Title: Anestel II: Cuil Eden
Parts: 1-39/?
Series: Sequel to Anestel and Ethuil'waew
Author: Esteliel
email: esteliel[at]gmx.de
Homepage: http://www.loes-valthen.de.vu
Pairing: Glorfindel/Legolas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: non-con, mpreg
Disclaimer: All the pretty elves belong to Tolkien, I'm just playing
with them and will give them back afterwards.
Summary: Legolas learns that despite the events told in "Anestel",
life continues.

Later chapters betaed by the wonderful Calenhard Elflover, thanks! :)

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

1

Legolas was impatient. He had just nursed their son who was now
sleeping peacefully in his cradle next to the open window once more.
Just yesterday Legolas had written another letter to his brother, and
the tome of poetry Glorfindel had given to him some days ago did not
tempt him anymore either after he had read most of the poems for two
or three times.

There was nothing left for him to do in their chambers, and it made
Legolas feel nervous. He wanted to go outside, feel the wind on his
skin, breathe the fresh air, but he did not dare to do this alone. He
had already spent an hour doing the exercises Thalaron had shown him
which were supposed to slowly build up his mucles and return the
strength to his body which he had los due to his pregnancy and all the
events surrounding it, but that was already several hours past. He did
not want to lie down and rest either, he had been forced by both
Elrond and Glorfindel to do so during the last months and was now
certain that he had slept enough to last him for the next year. But
what was he supposed to do then?

Of course he could always go and find Glorfindel. The elf had told him
that he needed to look up several things and so would work in the
library, and Legolas was sure that the Noldo would appreciate it if he
were to bring him some refreshment. Perhaps Glorfindel would allow him
to go and visit Lainiell then, or at least give him some new books to
read. Of course, Glorfindel might also be in the mood for a different
activity altogether, but as that was an occurence Legolas had grown to
expect every minute he spent with Glorfindel, that was not enough to
make him stay in this room, all alone with his sleeping son and his
boredom.

Yes, Legolas decided, he would go and visit Glorfindel then. One more
time he stepped up to the cradle, but his son was still sleeping
peacefully and so Legolas decided to leave him there. On his way out
he took an apple and a pear with him, then knocked at the door on the
other side of the hallway where temporarily a female elf had moved in,
a Noldo named Alwaeniel. Glorfindel had chosen her to be a nurse for
their son, but in fact she was only seldomly needed. Having grown up
without much contact to his father and his brothers himself, Legolas
was determined to keep his son as close to him as possible and so he
only asked Alwaeniel to keep an eye on their son when he went for his
daily exercises or - like now - wanted to visit Glorfindel. She was a
gentle and friendly elf who loved children and so often cared for the
young elves of Imladris when their parents had other obligations, but
Legolas was still wary of all Noldor. Like so many other times he only
asked her to look after his son for an hour or two and then quickly
left before she could try to start a conversation with him. Still,
despite his lingering distrust of all Noldorin elves he knew that he
could trust her to care for Gîlríon and so he went to the library
hoping to find Glorfindel in a good mood.

The library was one of the biggest rooms whose dimensions almost
rivaled those of the Hall of Fire, but after all Elrond was known as a
master of lore and had collected a vast array of scrolls and books
from all of Middle Earth during his long years. The library was
usually considered the realm of Erestor, but every time an assignment
made Glorfindel spend his days at one of the old tables, foraging for
a particular scroll, Erestor would find a distraction in some other
part of Imladris. Today this was the case as well but still Glorfindel
was not alone in the library which Legolas found out as soon as he had
opened the door. Glorfindel had been amidst a conversation with
Elrond, but when they heard the sound the door had made they turned
around and stopped talking.

"I am sorry my lord, I did not want to disturb you!" Legolas stuttered
and tried to quickly leave again, but Glorfindel's voice stopped him.

"No pen-neth, come, we were talking about you anyway..."

Legolas sighed softly and entered the library again, slowly making his
way towards the table where Glorfindel and Elrond were seated.

"I just wanted to bring you something to eat.." he tried to explain,
feeling a little embarassed to admit this while Elrond was watching
him.

"Thank you, roch-neth... You are right, I was growing hungry since I
did not think to take something to eat with me." Glorfindel smiled at
Legolas and took the pear, then wrapped an arm around Legolas' waist
and pulled him onto his lap which made Legolas blush and lower his
eyes.

"You have regained most of your strength, haven't you, little one?"
Elrond then asked, eying the body of the youth. "Thalaron told me that
he wants you to join the guard's training from next week on -- one
hour in the morning, one in the afternoon. I think that you are strong
enough for that now, there should be no problems. If you experience
any unusual pain come to me immediately, though I do not think that
this will happen."

Legolas nodded meekly while Glorfindel stopped eating the pear and
smiled at Legolas. "That is indeed good news! Once you are more
experienced with the sword I will train you myself, but until then you
will have a very good teacher in Thalaron."

"But we were talking about other things before you arrived here,
cunneth..." Elrond said and gave Glorfindel an almost teasing smile
before adressing his seneschal more directly. "Do you not think that
he should know as well what I just told you?"

"Yes, of course, I'm sure that he will like to hear this... we were
discussing your fertility, roch-neth." Glorfindel smirked when he saw
Legolas blush as soon as the words had left his mouth. "You know that
I will make you carry more of my children, don't you?"

Legolas nodded, not trusting his voice. Of course he knew, Glorfindel
had mentioned this often enough during the first months of his stay
here, but ever since he had given birth to Gîlríon the subject had not
been mentioned again and so Legolas had thought that he would be
granted at least a little respite. Apparently Glorfindel had decided
differently though, and Legolas felt despair grow inside him. Did this
really mean that his fate would be to give Glorfindel child after
child until the Noldo grew weary of him?

"Right now I think that it is enough for you to look after our son and
learn how to use a sword, you grew so weak during your pregnancy that
I would fear for the health of a future child," Glorfindel continued
and pretended not to notice the way Legolas' eyes widened with
surprised relief.

"I'm not yet quite sure if the herbs a woman would use to prevent a
pregnancy would work for you as well, but right now your body is not
ready to conceive anyway, and I think that as long as you continue to
nurse Gîlríon you will be safe. Afterwards... perhaps I will know more
about your body's reacction to those herbs, or perhaps Glorfindel will
want to sire another child then."

"Yes, after all I enjoy watching you grow with my child," Glorfindel
mused and gently caressed Legolas now-flat stomach. "First though, you
will train with our guards and grow more secure with a sword. Do not
look so worried, child, I already told you that you have no say in
these matters, it is for me to decide..."

"Of course, my lord..." Legolas said and lowered his head so that his
hair hid him from Glorfindel's eyes. "I will concentrate on my
training..."

Elrond had to try hard to stop from sending Glorfindel a knowing
smirk. After all he knew why his seneschal wanted to wait, he had
betrayed his true feelings when they had almost lost the young Sinda
during the birth. It would not do to tease Glorfindel while Legolas
was there as well, but Elrond was already thinking about when he would
meet Glorfindel without the youth... perhaps it was time to have
another conversation, now that their child was born and Legolas was
growing stronger each day.

"I will leave you to your work now," he said and stood up. "And...
please remember that there *is* work to do. You can play with the
princeling once you are back in your own rooms, but I really need that
report this evening."

"You know me, my lord, I always do my work. And this is only an
incentive to work faster, so I can return to my rooms and ravish my
little prince there."

Once again Legolas cursed his traitorous body as he felt the heat of
another blush and then Glorfindel's hands on the inside of his thighs,
slowly stroking him there as if to remind him about who would claim
him in some hours.

"The report, Glorfindel!" Elrond said again and then continued "And do
not begin something here which would make Erestor come running to me,
wait until you are in your rooms or at least somewhere where the more
sensitive member of this house will not see you."

"Of course, my lord!" Glorfindel agreed and waited until Elrond had
left the room to slip his hand into Legolas' leggings.

~~~~~~~~~

cuil eden = (a) new life

pen-neth = young one

roch-neth = colt

cunneth = princeling

~~~~~~~~~

2

Still a little breathless and his lips swollen from when Glorfindel
had made him kneel for him, Legolas returned to their rooms. With a
smile and a few shy words of thanks he released Alwaeniel from her
duty and seated himself at the window, close to where Gîlríon's cradle
stood. His son was awake now, he seemed to greet Legolas with a few
cooing sounds and then again turned his head into the direction of the
garden where the song of birds could be heard.

"Do you like their song, gîl neth?" Legolas asked with an affectionate
smile. Watching his little son always made him feel so full of warmth
and love, made everything he had to go through so far worth it, and
yet he was still a little afraid of the responsibility this brought
with it. After all he knew only too well how the actions of parents
could affect a child, and he was determined to save his son the
emotional pain he had lived with all through his childhood. No, his
son would always know how much he was loved, Legolas would make sure
of that. The only thing he could not be sure about was Glorfindel...
what kind of father would the Noldo prove to be?

"No matter what happens, he will never hurt you, I will not allow it,"
he promised his son. Still, so far Glorfindel had seemed so happy and
proud of their little star, and after all this was what he had wanted
from the beginning on, an heir to continue his line and to carry the
name of his house...

"You will make him proud, little one, you will be a warrior one day
like he is... and I can only hope that you will not hate me for my
weakness then."

Gîlríon cooed again, almost as if he were trying to comfort Legolas,
and then fell asleep again. The young Sinda smiled a little wistfully.
Would his son one day be able to understand what he had done for his
sake? He hoped so... but perhaps things would change in the next few
years. After all Glorfindel had now even allowed his training as a
warrior, perhaps he would one day stop treating him as a possession
and his son would never know of his pathetic past?

Legolas sighed and then looked out of the window once more. Glorfindel
had allowed him to take another book from the library, but at that
moment the youth had been far too distracted to really choose and so
he now had another old, heavy tome with a long and most probably dark
and hopeless lay of an ill-fated love with him. With his own life so
complicated Legolas did not desire to read about other dark times, but
when the time passed far too slowly until Glorfindel would return, he
finally began to read it nonetheless.



The unbridled energy apparent in the way the door was opened was
enough to make Legolas immediately realize that the goldenhaired lord
had finally returmed to his rooms once more. Yawning and leisurely
stretching Glorfindel divested himself of his heavy velvet tunic
before he crossed the room to where Legolas was still sitting with his
book.

"Have you been reading all this time, pen-neth?" he asked and laughed
softly when Legolas nodded. "Ai, I am happy that you are so studious,
and yet I think it would be more conductive to your health if you
would spend more time out in the sun."

"I would like to spend some time with Lainiell, my horse..." Legolas
admitted softly, "but... you know what happened the last time." The
moment the words left his lips he began to regret them. He had just
admitted that he was afraid, that he was too weak to stand up for
himself! Surely Glorfindel would laugh at him now... but instead the
Noldo smiled and drew him into his arms.

"Do you not trust me? I promised that no harm will come to you, for
you are mine and I protect what belongs to me. You gave birth to my
child, little one, nobody here has the right to hurt you."

"And yet those two Noldor were threatening me," Legolas answered
sullenly.

"Because they perceived you as weak, child!" Glorfindel patiently
explained. "Do not pout, you know it is the truth, you are old enough
to know how to defend yourself, and yet you have not been taught so.
This makes you an easy victim, and you are of Sindarin blood as well,
son of Thranduil who has so long been our enemy -- it is no wonder
that there is hate! Still, you have begun to train with weapons and
surely you will soon be able to defend yourself against something like
that without my help."

Legolas nodded, he did not dare to voice his doubts... but he wanted
to believe Glorfindel, he wanted to believe that one day he would be
like his brothers -- strong, independent, somebody no stable-hand
would dare to accost.

"And if you want to see your horse, we can go for a ride, I am sure
Asfaloth would like that as well."

Those words immediately raised Legolas' mood, the young Sinda was
beaming at Glorfindel until he remembered something. "Can you wait a
few minutes? Gîlríon has been asleep so far, surely he will wake soon
and be hungry then."

"Of course I can wait."

Glorfindel smiled and raised one hand to tenderly comb through his
young lover's silky hair. "Come, sit on my lap so I can feel you," he
requested and was immediately obliged, the so tempting soft little
mouth now far too close to be resisted. For several long minutes he
did nothing but taste every corner of Legolas' mouth, explore again
and again what should be so familiar by now and yet always felt like
discovering this pleasure for the first time. He only stopped when
Legolas had relaxed against him, moaning every so often while his
swollen, moist lips surrendered to Glorfindel's passionate
explorations, submitting and returning caresses with sweet hunger.
"Ai..." Glorfindel finally sighed. "Sometimes I think that I desire
you too much... if we keep this up, little one, I think that our
horses will miss their exercise."

"And our star will have to go hungry."

Indeed Gîlríon was watching them, making soft sounds of excitement as
he raised his small arms in Legolas' direction.

"Ah, we cannot have that, can we? Our little star will get whatever he
desires..."

"And one day he will be a spoiled big star," Legolas answered but had
already open his tunic and now took their child from the cradle,
holding it tenderly against his chest. Glorfindel smiled as he watched
the small mouth nuzzling against Legolas soft chest, searching until
he finally latched onto the plump nipple and began to suckle noisily.

"Mmm..." Glorfindel purred. "I like watching you nurse our son. It
makes me hungry for your taste... perhaps I should just keep you
pregnant?"

Legolas was blushing and frowning at the same time. "But Elrond said
that I would not get pregnant while I'm nursing him!" he said, visibly
unhappy with Glorfindel's suggestion.

"Yes, but you heard what he said, he has no experience with male
pregnancies as they are confined to your line exclusively... and you
seem to be more fertile than a female. After all no female would have
gotten pregnant if I had taken her like I took you at that lake -- you
did not want to conceive, did you?"

"I did not even know I *could* conceive!" Legolas muttered.

"So you see, if you can conceive although you do not desire so, why is
it not also possible that you can conceive so soon after Gîlríon's
birth? There is much Elrond does not know, your house has always made
a secret of this, so there will be no other option for you than to
wait... and really, you know that I want more children, what
difference does it make if it happens now or in some years?"

Legolas lowered his head, his eyes turning distant."You are right, my
lord..." he said sadly and then stayed silent. He did not want to
voice his complaints, not when Glofindel was in such a good mood and
had even promised to take him riding, but still he did not have to
like these news. Sometimes he felt like a victim of a curse, his body
constantly betraying him... why was it that a female only got pregnant
if she and her bonded both wanted a child, and yet he could get
pregnant everytime somebody claimed his body with no regard given to
his feelings? And why had his father never told him about this?

"Stop brooding, little one!" Glorfindel chided. "Come, sing something
for our little star and for me, and I promise to show you my favourite
waterfall later on."

Legolas sighed and tried to smile, his voice rising in a gentle hymn
although he still could not chase away his gloomy thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

gîl neth = little star

pen-neth = young one

~~~~~~~~~~~~



3

Sitting on top of his horse, his hands buried in Lainiell's mane and
his legs pressed to her warm flanks as they raced up a hill, Legolas
felt for the first time for months completely free and happy. With a
loud shout of delight he urged her to run faster and she immediately
complied, stretching her lithe body to stay ahead of the white
stallion which came thundering after them. For a while the brown mare
managed to stay ahead of Asfaloth, but despite the fact that his rider
was far heavier than the slender youth on Lainiell's back, the
stallion continuously gained on her and finally overtook her just
before they reached the hilltop.

"Not fair!" Legolas complained but he he was still laughing, his eyes
bright with happiness as he patted his horse's neck.

"Why is this unfair?" Glorfindel raised a brow, smiling himself. It
was good to see Legolas like this, flushed with excitement and filled
with youthful exuberance. This was the way Legolas should look like,
not pale and depressed like he had looked for far too long already.
But then, that was his own fault... it was him who had locked the
child up, took his freedom and his happiness away. There was only
himself to blame for the young prince's condition... Glorfindel sighed
as he watched Legolas slide from his mount's back, only to hug her
again before he let her free to have her fill of the sweet grass.

"It's unfair because she did not have any training, I have not taken
her for a ride for months! So you see, this does not count!" Lgolas
answered with an impish grin.

"You are right, it does not!" Glorfindel declared. "We will just have
to repeat this more often so we can have a fair contest one day."

"Really?" Legolas stared at him with wide eyes. "You mean it? We will
go riding again?"

"Of course we will!" Glorfindel felt a little remorse as he noticed
how surprised Legolas was. Had the young Sinda really thought that he
would keep him locked up in his rooms for the rest of his life? "You
need to be outside more often, it will help you to grow stronger...
and if you do not mind my company I will gladly accompany you if I
have the time. I think that my Asfaloth here can use a little
challenge... you're getting slow, old friend!"

The white stallion snorted angrily and used his head to push
Glorfindel away before he wandered off to have his share of the grass.
Glorfindel laughed, then held out his hand to Legolas. "Come, I
promised to show you my favourite waterfall, didn't I? It is not far
from here."

It was not far, but the path which led to the secluded fall was well
hidden, even for an elf the site was impossible to find if one did not
know what to look for. Never had Glorfindel taken any lovers there, it
was a private place which only he, Elrond, the twins and Erestor knew
of. Many years ago this was where Elrond had taken Celebrían when they
wanted to flee from the burden of being the Lord and Lady of Imladris,
now the half-elf shunned the fall and the painful memories it brought.

Although the path was less travelled now, Glorfindel was still able to
lead Legolas through the thicket of newly-grown bushes and weed until
they finally reached a gathering of tall rocks. They were already able
to hear the sounds the water made as it rushed down from a place
somewhere above them, and when they had finally climbed the rocks,
they found themselves directly at the entrance to a small valley. A
clear lake covered the bottom, fragrant flowers blooming at its sides
and even some trees had managed to grow despite the limited space. At
the other end of the valley, the water came out of an opening in the
rock and cascaded down into the lake, breaking the light of the sun so
that several small rainbows sparkled amidst the silver mist.

Legolas stood still for several minutes, taking in the beauty before
him. Glorfindel had been right, now he could understand why this was
his favourite fall. It might be smaller, less spectacular than those
other falls Imladris was famous for, but this place with its
unexpected, hidden beauty spoke to him with voices he had last heard
when he was alone deep inside the Greenwood. This was the beauty of
untouched nature, of a place that could exist this way only because
very few knew of it and took care to never disturb its peace.

"Do not tell anybody about this place," Glorfindel cautioned. "Lord
Elrond used to come here in order to think, and Erestor comes here for
only the Valar know what."

"And why do you come here?" Legolas asked curiously.

Glorfindel was silent for a while. Finally he sighed. "Its beauty
touches my heart. It is... it is like being back in Gondolin. There
was a beautiful, secluded place like this there as well, it was a
favoured meeting place for lovers, or friends. Of course it did not
look like this, but... the atmosphere is the same. It radiates
calmness, serenity. It makes me... yes, when I am here, I think I
understand why my life ran the way it did. Why I am here now. And I
know that I would make the same decisions again..."

Legolas was silent, he did not know what to say. This was a side of
Glorfindel the Noldo had kept hidden so far... he had never shown
Legolas any weaknesses, had never revealed too much of his emotions
and thoughts. Legolas had of course been curious about Glorfindel's
past, about his famous fight with the balrog, his time in Mandos'
Halls, but he had never dared to ask. But perhaps now would be the
time...?

"You do not talk about it very often..." he began shyly. Glorfindel
sighed and gave him a pained smile.

"No, I do not. It is the curse of our race to remember our losses for
all of our long life... and that day, I lost everything. My city. My
friends. My king. My warriors... all is gone, and there are not many
left in Middle Earth who can still remember the beauty that was
Gondolin. They ask me to tell them of my fight with the balrog, but
nobody ever asks me to tell them of Gondolin, of the beauty, the hope
that was destroyed that day. They only want me to remember the pain,
the destruction, the loss -- so I stopped speaking about it at all."

Legolas was silent for a while, thinking about what Glorfindel had
said. It was true, the Noldo had lost everything... it was a situation
which was by far worse than his own. He might be exiled, but at least
he knew that his family, his friends still lived. Yes, for him there
was still hope, while Glorfindel could not hope to see the faces of
his loved ones again until he finlly decided to leave for Valinor.

"Will you... will you tell me of it's beauty, then?" he asked and
timidly wrapped an arm around Glorfindel's waist, leaning against the
warrior's chest as he let his eyes take in the beauty of the small
fall. "I have not been able to read much, and I would like to hear of
the city, of your House -- if it does not wake painful memories."

"No, cunneth, it does not, or rather, I have learned to live with it.
Come, let us sit down, and then I will tell you of the beauty of
Gondolin and the courage of those within its walls. And if, at the
end, you are not bored with my stories, I will bring you books from
our Lord's library." Glorfindel smiled at Legolas' hopeful look and
then began a slow retelling of the history of Gondolin, trying not to
show how the youth's compassion had moved him. How could it be that
after all that had happened to him he could still find it in his heart
to share someone else's pain? This youngest prince of Mirkwood was
indeed a strange creature... Glorfindel promised himself that he would
take more time to reveal the secrets of this youth he had taken as his
own.

~~~~~~~~~

cunneth = princeling

~~~~~~~~~

4

One week later, when Legolas had once more been forced to leave their
son to Alwaeniel's care so that he could go outside for his first day
of training with the guards, Elrond waited until he was alone in his
room with Glorfindel to once more start on the topic of the young
Mirkwood prince.

"How was your day yesterday?" he tried to find an innocent opening for
their talk. Immediately Glorfindel turned to look at him, his eyes
narrowing in suspicion.

"What do you mean, how was my day? Elrond, I have not seen you fail so
terribly at smalltalk since the last time I was forced to take a seat
directly next to Erestor and he managed to spill his wine on me."

"Why this instant suspicion, my friend?" the Lord of the house
inquired with an amused smile. "Am I not allowed to inquire after your
day? No, wait," he then interrupted Glorfindel's answer with a raised
hand, "indeed there is another reason for me to inquire after this
than mere concern about your well-being. I wanted to talk with you
about Legolas."

"Is something wrong with him?" Glorfindel immediately asked, "Or did
you find out more about those herbs you were talking about?"

Elrond shook his head. "No, it is not his health I want to talk about.
I was thinking about his situation -- about your situation." His smile
had left as he studied the face of his friend carefully. "Tell me,
what would you call him? Your Mirkwood whore?"

"No!" Glorfindel immediately protested with anger in voice, then
glared at Elrond when the Noldorin lord again raised his hand to
silence him.

"But some weeks ago, you would not have protested. And you know that
this is what everybody thinks he is. They call him slut, toy, a slave
to be used by you as a breeding mare."

"Stop it, Elrond!" Glorfindel said angrily. "I know what you are
doing, believe me, I was thinking about this myself tonight! It is my
own fault, I know it very well, there is no need for you to provoke
me!"

"Ah, but who says that I am trying to provoke you?" Elrond smiled,
still amused by the reaction his words had wrought. Of couse this was
why he had chosen them, but to have his suspicions so easily
confirmed...

"Do not toy with me, my lord! I am no child, indeed, I am much older
than you!"

"And still sometimes you behave like a youth who is scared by what his
heart tells him," Elrond injected calmly. He rested one hand on
Glorfindel's arm, watching the emotions mirrored in the golden elf's
eyes. "Be at ease, my friend, I do not want to judge or accuse you, I
only wanted to show you what I see as the problem in your situation --
in our situation," he amended. "And I can see that you have become
aware of it as well, otherwise you would not have reacted as you did."

"Then stop this game, tell me what it is you want to tell me."
Glorfindel sighed, suddenly feeling tired. He had spent several hours
thinking about Legolas, about the effect the youth had on him, and he
still did not know what to think. There were too many sides to this
problem, too many old hurts... and despite the calm outside Elrond
presented, he knew that his friend had to be aware of them as well.

"I wonder what he means to you, what you see as his future... so far,
his status here has been that of a plaything to amuse you. Do you want
to keep him like this? In 50 years, when your son reaches his
majority, will Legolas still be lying naked in your bed, ready to be
used by you as if he were a soulless thing?"

"Stop it, Elrond!" Glorfindel was breathing heavily, lowering his
eyes. "I am not a monster, you know me that well, my lord! Do I seem
to you like a cruel human who only finds pleasure in rape and torment?
Legolas is not fading -- he has submitted to me of his free will, has
accepted to be mine! In all those long years you have known me and my
ways in the bedroom, have you ever seen one of my lovers fade?"

"Please, Glorfindel, I told you I did not want to judge you, I only
want --"

"No, Elrond, you are judging me! Why this sudden change in you all of
a sudden? Do not forget that this is Legolas Thranduilion! Thranduil's
son! How often have we fantasized about what we would do if we only
could get our hands on one of his heirs! What would you have done?"

"I would not have kept him," Elrond admitted softly. "My fear would
have been too great... fear of the hate he arouses in me, fear of this
darkness which makes me want to hurt him... These are dark times, and
sometimes I fear that we all have strayed too far from the light
already. But this is not about your tastes, my friend, this is about
your fears, about the hate everybody of us bears and about the fragile
peace we have finally achieved. I do not ask this lightly of you, but
I think that some things will have to change - for your sake as well
as his."

"What do you want me to change? It is not in my power to force our
people to love the son of our enemy!" Glorfindel answered heatedly.

"No, it is not, but I think that you are already on the right way...
after all, why do you let him train with a weapon? You cannot fool me,
this is not simply because you fear for the safety of your son!"

Glorfindel sighed. "No," he admitted. "He is so frightened, so
vulnerable -- his father truly did everything to make him into the
perfect prey. I like his dependency, yes, I admit that freely, but at
the same time I also feel pity. He cannot stay a young child for all
his life, he has to mature. Perhaps it is because I would soon get
bored with having him like he is now for more than a few years, but
perhaps it is also..."

"Compassion?" Elrond finished. "Ah, perhaps then not all is lost,
perhaps we will be able to shake this bitterness, this darkness..."

"But what do you want me to do, my lord?" Glorfindel asked now almost
pained. "Are you asking me to -- to love him? To bind myself to him? I
cannot do that, you know it well."

"No, I do not ask that of you." Elrond shook his head, sighing.
"Binding yourself to a nameless child, not even in his majority yet,
an exile who had to leave his home in shame -- this is not what I
would wish for you. But still it cannot continue this way, not if you
truly feel compassion for him. You know as well as I do that he cannot
stay a prisoner here for all of his life. Right now he submits to you
because he is afraid for both himself and your son, but his soul
continues to suffer and he will eventually fade when his son no longer
needs him. It is not in our nature to bear hate and rejection for a
long time."

Obviously unhappy, Glorfindel stared into Elrond's impassioned eyes.
"I know, my lord, but what would you have me do? I already--"

"Yes, I know, you give him more freedom now, but this is not what I
mean. This compassion you speak of, this worry about him, yes, even
this freedom you allow him -- I have never seen you act like this
before. And it worries me, Glorfindel! I do not want to see you hurt
-- and you would be hurt if he left you, either by fading or running
away. Do not bother to try to conceal this, I can see it in your eyes
when he is close to you! Be careful that you do not push him too far
-- he is yet young and malleable and could easily grow used to being
yours."

"He is already mine," Glorfindel muttered but lowered his eyes when
Elrond continued his lecture.

"Yes, but for how much longer? I would have you keep him if that is
what you desire -- not only because it pleases me to see Thranduil
humiliated but also because I want to see you happy. So take care my
friend, do not hurt him too much or you will lose him eventually."

Clearly Glorfindel was not entirely happy with the way this
conversation was going, but still he bowed his head deferentially. "I
will be more careful, my lord," he answered. "Still, you cannot change
that he is a Sinda -- it will take a lot more for our people to forget
their hate of his people."

"It will not change overnight, but change it eventually will," Elrond
said firmly. "From now on he will be treated differently -- I want to
hear no more comments about what he does at night in your bed. He will
not be called a whore or a slut at my table, he will be treated like a
prisoner of rank -- even if he has no rank at the moment."

"Ah!" Glorfindel said with an amused smile on his face as he suddenly
realized the reason for Elrond's unusual interest in what happened in
his bedroom. "So this is what you are aiming for... you think that one
day he will be restored as a prince of Mirkwood?"

Elrond's answering smile was equally amused, his eyes sparkling with
the contentment of a cat who had just caught a mouse. "Think about it,
Glorfindel... how would you like it to have the youngest prince of
Mirkwood bound to you? To have his royal blood flowing in the veins of
your heirs? It would be a bond most valueable for the continued peace
between our realms."

"Ah, it would please me to see Thranduil forced to give his blessing
to such a union!" Glorfindel sighed. "But it would take more than a
millenia to make him agree to this..."

"Do not be so sure of that, there are always ways! It might happen one
day -- and until then you should make sure that the child does not
grow to hate you. He is yours, I do not want to take him away from
you, but if you want to play with him, do so in your rooms or
somewhere where you won't be observed."

"Of course, my lord." Glorfindel bowed again as this was obviously the
last Elrond had to say on this. When a servant knocked and came inside
with another handful of messages that had to be read and answered, he
used the chance to leave the room. There was a lot he had to think
about now... but first he had to listen to the reports of today's
patrols. And then... perhaps he would pay a visit to the training
grounds and see what progress Legolas had made.

5

For days Legolas had been afraid of his first training together with
the other elves. The loathing and disgust he seemed to inspire in
Noldorin elves was something he could observe daily, be it at Elrond's
table or encounters with lowly servants. He did not even dare to think
what kind of behaviour his sudden appearance would inspire in a group
of guards, of warriors who had after all been trained for the war
against his people! So when he finally had made his way to the
training grounds it was with only badly disguised apprehension, his
mind running through nightmare-like scenarios of how this training
might resemble his encounter with the two stableboys in the garden.
After all, there would be no Glorfindel here to save him...

But instead of pairing him up with several Sindar-hating guards to
practise hand-to-hand combat which would then lead to a lot of bruises
and even more painful humiliation as Legolas had feared, Thalaron took
him to the side of the field where several strange-looking wooden
constructions stood. They consisted of one big pole which was deeply
embedded in the ground and had at seemigly random intervalls bars
branching out from it like a poor imitation of a tree. There were at
least 20 of those strange constructions and most looked battered, with
places where the wood was starting to splinter. Legolas had no idea
what they could be used for, but Thalaron finally solved the mystery
when he took a wooden practice sword and raised it to stroke the
highest branch with an elegant, effortless move wich made the whole
construction shiver. Legolas was then to repeat it while the Noldo
kept criticizing his stance until he was finally satisfied and showed
him two more moves. Again more criticism followed until Thalaron was
finally satisfied and left Legolas to practice the three moves by
himself while he returned to the other elves. They seemed to be more
advanced than Legolas and did not need to use the constructs, instead
they wore heavily padded armor and had short bouts with the same
wooden swords Legolas had to use while Thalaron yelled orders at them.

When the hour of training was finally finished, the other elves used a
small stream to clean themselves, several of them simply jumping in to
start a small fight in the water, others peeling off their
sweat-soaked shirts to empty a bucket of cold water over their head
and chest. Legolas as well yearned for the sensation of the clean
water against his overheated skin; although his workout had been less
exhausting than what he had seen the others doing he was still covered
with sweat, his muscles sore from the unfamiliar movements. Yet
Legolas did not dare to follow the example of the Noldor; he was too
afraid of their eyes and the derision it would surely bring were he to
undress and so display his still so strangely changed body.
Nevertheless he felt hot and dirty and did not want to stay this
way...

Finally he knelt down at the side of the stream, away from where the
waterfight was still taking place, and used the cold water to wash his
face and hands. After the exertion of the past hour the cool liquid
felt heavenly and Legolas wanted nothing more than to undress and
immerse himself fully in the water.This was not possible though, not
if he did not want to make himself even more vulnerable to the jokes
and loathing of Imladris' population than he already was. After a
final fearful glance in the direction of the other elves, he
nevertheless dared to open the laces of the white shirt he wore so
that he could splash some of the water against his chest, sighing with
relieve at the wonderful coldness. Several times he repeated this,
always shooting furtive glances in the direction of the bathing
Noldor. And just as Legolas had feared it did not take very long until
they became aware of him once more.


“Look, Glorfindel’s little pet thinks that he’s too good to bath with
us,” one of them said maliciously.


“Perhaps he’s just afraid of us!” another answered, and then Legolas
who had already begun to lace his shirt closed again with trembling
fingers could hear the sound of splashing water. Legolas began to
panic. This was what he had been afraid of all along... but he could
not run away now, could he? This would only reassure them in their
belief that he made an easy victim...


And then it was too late and Legolas felt a hand on his shoulder,
pulling him down into the water, and when he came up again he found
himself surrounded by six youths. Barely older than himself it was
nevertheless clearly visible that they had already passed several
years of the hard training under Thalaron.


“Well, little Sinda, don’t you like being clean?” one of them asked
with feigned curiosity which made the others laugh.


“Yes, come, undress and bath with us...” another suggested, curiously
eyeing Legolas’ bared chest. “Do not pretend to be so coy, we all know
that you are well used to displaying yourself!”


“Yes, you’ll enjoy it,” another of the nameless, darkhaired youths
grinned. “Gondir here is even bigger than Glorfindel – he’ll really
make you scream!”

While the others were laughing at that Legolas tried to find a way out
of the circle. “Leave me alone!” he finally said, glaring at the Noldo
whose eyes were still lingering on his chest. “I do not desire to be
close to any of you!”

“Ah, but that’s a lie, why are you here then in Imladris if you do not
like what Noldorin bodies have to offer? Come...” the first one
purred, running his hand over Legolas’ chest, “if Glorfindel wants you
trained, we’ll train you in something he’ll have a better use for than
weaponry!”

“Do not touch me!” Legolas hissed and slapped his hand away. “It does
not concern you what I am here for or not! You have no right to touch
me against my will!”

Again one of the youths snickered. “But who will stop us? You?”

“Yes, I will!” Legolas felt rage take over, driving away the fear
which had held him paralyzed before. Why did everybody here think him
weak, a perfect victim? It had not been his choice to end like this!
And before he had to surrender to even more Noldor, he’d at least try
to resist first...

With a growl Legolas lunged at the youth closest to him, pushing
against him with all his strength so that the Noldo found himself
falling back into the water before he had even realized what was
happening. “Leave me alone!” Legolas shouted once more, defending
himself against another pair of hands that wanted to grab him as he
tried to use the opening to escape from the water. Then, just as those
hands managed to pull him back into the range of the other Noldor, a
stern voice interrupted them.

“What is this? Did I not tell you to hurry and clean up?”

All of a sudden Legolas was free and as he turned around, he found
himself directly in the line of a disapproving glare. Thalaron, still
clad in his impeccable captain’s tunic, stood at the side of the
stream and simply watched as the young Noldor quickly left the water
and hurried to put their clothes back on. Finally Legolas was the only
one left in the stream, but Thalaron did not seem to want to
acknowledge his presence or what had led to this conflict as he
adressed the group again. “Come one hour earlier tomorrow, since you
all seem to have too much energy – I’ll make sure that you will be
sufficiently challenged by tomorows training! And now hurry, you still
have to clean and bring back your equipment!”

Muttering softly the youths returned to the field where wooden swords
and padded training armor were still strewn about. Legolas sighed and
followed them. His clothes were soaked now, the simple white linen
shirt so wet that it was translucent, but Legolas would rather clean
the field in the company of the Noldorin youths than invoke Thalaron’s
wrath.



6

When Glorfindel arrived at the training grounds the lesson seemed to
be over already. A group of youths was gathering swords and armor from
the ground and bringing them to the small building which held the
training gear. He could see Legolas in that group as well, carrying a
wooden sword and yet keeping away from the others youths.

Well, it was to be expected, Glorfindel told himself, of course it
would not be easy for Legolas to be accepted here. Still, he hoped for
their sake that they had not tried to bodily harm his little prince –
while he knew that Legolas would be faced with a lot of aggression,
that was one thing he would not allow.

“Glorfindel,” he heard a familiar voice greet him and found that
Thalaron had left the youths to their work so he could talk with him.
“Are you here to see what progress your little rabbit has made?”

Glorfindel shook his head, laughing. “Ah, what progress could he have
made after a single day? No, I was more curious about the reaction of
the other youths, and about how Legolas chose to behave. It is
difficult, to be all alone amidst a group of enemies...”

“Yes, indeed,” Thalaron sighed. “And at that age they have too much
energy but no real experience... they will not make it easy for him.”

“Glorfindel!” another, younger voice called out, and one moment later
Legolas had joined their group, smiling at Glorfindel with obvious
relief. “What are you doing here? Are you already finished with the
patrols?”

Glorfindel stared at Legolas, pure hunger in his eyes. He could see
Legolas’ body outlined by the wet, clinging garment, could see the
soft swelling of his chest, his dark nipples hard and visible through
the shirt. Wet hair clung to his face, his eyes were alight with
excitement... it had been some time since he had last seen Legolas
look so alive.

“Perhaps you have some time later to continue our conversation?”
Thalaron asked tactfully.

Glorfindel nodded quickly. “Yes... you can join us for tea this
afternoon, if you have the time... ?”

When the captain nodded, Glorfindel sighed in relief, then smiled at
Legolas who had blushed with embarassment. Glorfindel’s eyes had
reminded him once more of the state he was in... tomorrow he would
have to remember to bring a towel, or be quick enough to escape those
Noldor.

“You look like you are in desperate need of a bath,” Glorfindel said,
not even trying to hide the arousal he felt. “And I think I need one,
too – come, at this time of the day we can enjoy the heat of the
public baths for as long as we want.” Then he took Legolas’ hand and
pulled him away, followed by Thalaron’s amused gaze.

~~~~~~~

Legolas kept silent as he followed Glorfindel into the public baths.
They seemed to be alone; the baths were usually frequented in the
mornings and evenings, and now that it was noontime the great
underground hall with its steaming pools was deserted. Nevertheless
Glorfindel chose one of the smaller pools situated at the back of the
hall. They were designed for privacy, walls at both sides kept it
seperate from other small pools similar to it and a curtain could be
used to cover the entrance.

Usually Glorfindel never bothered with those small pools, he was not
ashamed of his body and saw no need to hide behind a curtain, instead
opting to use the main pool where other warriors were a source of
conversation and rumors. Legolas on the other hand would surely not
appreciate having his nude body displayed should some other elf decide
to have a bath at this time.

And after all it was not only the desire to clean his body which
brought Glorfindel here. No, he wanted more than that -- he wanted his
little prince. Had wanted him since he'd seen him in those simple
training clothes, the wet leggings displaying the slender body so
temptingly. He was flushed from the exertion, his hair wild, the scent
of sweat and grass clinging to his skin. Glorfindel had to have him,
as soon as possible. He had been half hard since he'd met him on the
training field, and he surely would not wait until they had returned
to their quarters. No, he had to have him now!

"Come, roch-neth, undress me!" he ordered. He was not able to hide the
hunger in his voice and knew that Legolas had realized what he wanted
of him. A light blush coloured Legolas' face and he took care to close
the white curtain behind them before he stepped closer to Glorfindel.
By now it was a familiar experience for Glorfindel to have himself
slowly divested of his clothes by those careful, slender fingers.
Nevertheless, it still aroused him to see Legolas blush, see him shyly
avert his gaze. Sometimes Glorfindel wondered that the youth could
still be so innocent after all he had done to him -- but perhaps it
was this what had made him keep his interest. Legolas' innocence was
not something which could be stripped away like his clothes, it could
not be destroyed by taking possession of his body night after night.

No, Legolas still exuded youthful innocence, and Glorfindel felt
himself drawn towards it. He hungered... yes, he hungered for the
taste of his skin, and now he would take what was his.

Legolas had by now reached the lacings of his leggings and dropped
graccefully to his knees so he could pull the garment down. It was a
sight Glorfindel thought he would never stop to relish: the golden
hair smooth like silk against his thighs, the fingers trembling ever
so slightly as they helped him to step out of the leggings, and the
soft mouth so temptingly close to his hardness...

Glorfindel knew that it would take only one small word by him to have
that mouth enclose him in wet heat. But no... this was not what he
wanted. No, he needed more...

He turned away from the tempting vision the kneeling prince presented.
"Undress yourself, then join me," he said huskily and stepped into the
hot water. At the other side of the small pool the rock was cut so
that one could sit there comfortably, still partly immersed in the
water. Glorfidel sat down there, sighing in pleasure as he watched
Legolas quickly undress and then follow him into the water.

"Closer, pen-neth..." Glorfindel purred when Legolas stopped in front
of him. He took hold of his hand and pulled him so that the Sinda
found himself seated on his lap. "So, since this was your first day of
real training, I think you have earned yourself a little reward... let
me wash your hair, and afterwards, perhaps I'll rub some oil into your
skin to soothe your sore muscles."

"Thank you, my lord," Legolas whispered. His body was already reacting
to being so close to Glorfindel... he did not know how to fight this.
And fighting would not help him anyway, not when he could feel that
Glorfindel was already hot and hard, each small movement rubbing the
swollen length along the crease between his cheeks.

But apparently Glorfindel really desired to wait for he stayed true to
his promise and carefully cleaned Legolas' hair with a fragrant soap.
It drove Legolas' crazy... all the small movements, the intimate
touches had quickly made him grow as hard as Glorfindel, and by now he
no longer even thought of fighting against this desire. He wanted the
Noldo, needed him, and apparently Glorfindel finally realized that as
well.

"Tell me, cunneth, what do you want?" he asked playfully, his hands
running down Legolas' sides to his thighs, spreading them wider.

"I want you, please!" Legolas moaned. "Please, I want to feel you
inside me!"

"Yes..." Glorfindel purred and dipped his fingers into one of the
bowls which stood at the side to the pool. "Yes, I want that, too..."
Quickly he coated his hard length with the oil. "Come, sweet prince,
if you want me, then take all of me inside you, impale yourself on
me!"

Legolas was almost trembling with lust when he watched Glorfindel
stroke himself. Then the Noldo leaned back, his arms along the side of
the pool, and simply grinned. His erection rested against his belly,
glistening with oil, growing impossibly bigger when Legolas wrapped
his fingers around it.

Glorfindel groaned softly but did not move. He remained motionless,
simply watching as Legolas used one hand to spread his cheeks while
the other steadied Glorfindel's hard length. Then he sat down, gasping
as he forced himself to open for his lord. It hurt, oh, it still hurt,
but he needed, needed even more... with a soft cry he pushed down
again, impaling himself completely. "Ah... so good!" he gasped, his
fingers clenching around Glorfindel's arms to steady himself.

"Yes," the Noldo agreed breathless, his eyes closed as he fought
against the desire to move, to simply slam up into the youth's body.
But no... not this time. "If you want more, roch-neth, you'll have to
work for it!"

Legolas whimpered in answer, his eyes fluttering shut. Slowly he
raised himself a little, then sat dow again, moaning when he felt the
head of Glorfindel's member brush against the gland deep inside him.
"Oh..." he breathed and repeated the movement, forcing a groan from
Glorfindel.

"Come on, move, little prince!" the Noldo gasped, barely able to
restrain himself, and all of a sudden Legolas realized what he could
do. Without doubt Glorfindel had chosen that position to subdue him
even more, to have Legolas take an active, voluntary part in his own
submission, but... there was also another side to this game Glorfindel
was playing. For the first time Legolas realized that he also held
power over Glorfindel.

Heat filled him at this thought, aroused him even more. He rested his
head on Glorfindel’s shoulder, purring into his ear. “But I do not
wish to move, my lord...” he whispered seductively. “I want to feel
you like this, filling me so completely, so deeply... ah, you are so
thick, my lord, so hard! You are burning me!” His words were
accompanied by the slightest of movements and he could feel that it
drove Glorfindel crazy. Oh, could it be... that he even had the power
to make Glorfindel beg now?

“I wish I could stay like this for all eternity...” he breathed,
flicking his tongue against the tip of Glorfindel’s ear. Then he began
to move again, slowly writhing on Glorfindel’s lap while he kept his
mouth close to the Noldo’s ear, moaning and gasping without restraint.

Glorfindel stayed motionless, his arms still resting on the edge of
the pool, but finally he could no longer resist the vision of the
shameless, wanton creature before him, he just had to touch him...
slowly he ran his hands over Legolas’ shoulders, his sides, feeling
him tremble with every small movement. Then he brought his hands
around to stroke the soft, milk-filled chest, tease the swollen
nipples until Legolas gasped and shuddered. Glorfindel smiled slowly.
Oh, he knew what game Legolas was playing... but he would not stop
him, not yet. There would be time later... and there were also other
ways to make the youth stop his teasing!

He lowered his head to gently start caressing one nipple with his
tongue. It made Legolas whimper and clench around him which in turn
aroused Glorfindel even more. He bit the hard nub non too gently,
forcing an indignant squeak from the Sinda. Glorfindel only grinned at
him and pushed his hips a little upwards to show what he wanted, then
again returned his attentions to the overly sensitive bud, soothing it
with his tongue only to finally take it between his lips and suck
harshly. Legolas cried out, arching up as all his muscles spasmed and
he achieved a sudden climax so intense that afterwards he hang limp
and trembling in Glorfindel’s arms.

The golden-haired Noldo was groaning as he swallowed a mouthful of
Legolas’ sweet milk. His swollen shaft was squeezed by Legolas’
contracting muscles and as much as Glorfindel would have liked to
prolong this even further, he could no longer fight against what his
body ached for. Once, twice he bucked up hard, pushing forcefully into
Legolas until he finally stiffened and released his seed deep inside
the Sinda.

For long moments only their loud breathing could be heard, then
Legolas finally slid down from Glorfindel’s lap, leaning against him
with a tired sigh. Glorfindel raised one hand to tenderly stroke his
cheek, smiling as Legolas turned his head to meet his eyes.

“Do not think that I don’t know what you tried to do, roch-neth,” he
smirked. “It’s nice to have you be more active, but I think you have
forgotten a few things... I’ll remind you of them tonight. Now up with
you, I want to finish a report before Thalaron comes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

roch-neth = colt

cunneth = princeling

~~~~~~~~~~~~~



7

Later that day when Glorfindel was finished with his work, Elrond came
for a visit. Legolas was sitting in the window, the sun was shining
brightly outside and warmed both him and his son. He had with him
another collection of poetry Glorfindel had given him and now softly
sang to his son while Glorfindel was putting his writing utensils
away.

When they heard the knock at their door, both were startled to see
that it was Elrond who appeared in the study and not one of the
servants. It was very uncommon for the Lord of the valley to choose
this time of the day for a visit to his seneschal’s rooms; although
the Peredhil and his golden-haired warrior often shared stories and
memories over a glass of wine in their private quarters, their
workload usually only allowed them time for this after the evening
meal.

“My lord!” Glorfindel said with a smile on his face at seeing his
friend, yet he was clearly surprised at the unusual occurence. “I just
finished the report and would have brought it to you in a few minutes,
there was no need for you to—“

“Do not worry,” Elrond chuckled, “I did not come to harass you about
your paperwork. No, I wanted to ask if you would like to join me for
tea in an hour, I will have it served on my balcony. I would like to
talk with you – you can bring Legolas as well if you want.”

“I would be honoured, my lord,” Glorfindel answered, then remembered
his captain. “I was planing on meeting with Thalaron though, we wanted
to talk about a few things...”

“Oh, it does not matter, he can join us, I would be glad to hear his
opinion on something. That is, if whatever you wanted to talk about is
not something you want to keep secret from me?”

Glorfindel smiled at Elrond’s teasing. “Of course not, my lord, I will
make sure then that your invitation reaches him.”

Elrond nodded, pleased with the answer. Then he stepped further into
the room, heading towards Legolas who had been distracted from their
conversation by tiny fingers curling around a strand of his hair.

“And you, little one? Are you well?” the Noldo asked and raised
Legolas’ face so he could look at him.

Legolas blushed. “Yes, my lord,” he answered, then stopped speaking
and stared nervously up at Elrond. He had never bothered about
dressing again after the bath and was still only dressed in the soft
white robe since it would be easier to feed his son this way – and
there was also the punishment Glorfindel had threatened him with.
Legolas was sure that an elaborate dress would not be a needed
ingredient for whatever Glorfindel had in mind, but now he regretted
that he had not put on other clothes as he felt very vulnerable now.

“You are singing the poems of Arúniel to your son?” Elrond inquired,
clearly amused. Arúniel, an elf maiden of noble birth who had lived
and died in Lindon long before Legolas was born was often a favourite
of young elf maidens – or those who tried to court them. Each of her
poems spoke of love in such a way that more experienced elves could
not help but feel amusement at the naïveté of the depicted emotions.
“Do you like her poetry?” he inquired, his amusement growing as
Legolas’ blush deepened.

“Yes, they are very beautiful... I was never given books like this in
Mirkwood.” Legolas sighed as he remembered the long and boring history
lessons he had to attend in his childhood. His grandfather did this,
Gil-Galad did that, this was wrong because it injured elven law, then
there were the thousands of reasons for and events during the war...
he had hated those lessons. “Glorfindel gave several of her books to
me as a gift,” he explained, smiling happily as he hugged the
leather-bound volume to his chest.

“Did you, now...” Elrond said, turning back to Glorfindel to regard
him with raised eyebrows. His old friend actually did him the favour
to blush.

“He likes her poems and needed something to do when he had to stay in
bed after the birth,” the golden-haired elf tried to explain, but the
expression on his lord’s face showed him that he was not very
successful. Glorfindel sighed as he tried to reconcile himself with
the fact that now his lord had somehing to tease him with for the next
few centuries – after all they had spent many evenings making fun of
her poetry, and now there he was, listening to Legolas sing those very
poems to their son.

“When he is finished with them, perhaps you should let him read those
books Erestor wrote for the lessons of the twins?” Elrond said. “If he
likes reading so much, he should further his education. “

Legolas could barely suppress a groan. If those book were anything
like Erestor himself... no, he would rather stay with poetry, history
books always began to bore him after the first few pararaphs.

At least Glorfindel seemed to share his opinion for he rolled his eyes
und uttered an “Of course, of course...” while pushing his report into
Elrond’s hands. Elrond seemed to realize that his proposal did not
meet with much enthusiasm and finally decided to leave their room
again, still shaking his head. “I will send a servant to Thalaron’s
quarters then, do not bother,” he added before he closed the door
behind himself.

„Do you want me to accompany you, my lord?“ Legolas asked curiously,
setting the book down so he could sit up with Gîlríon still cradled
carefully in his arms.

“Yes,” Glorfindel decided.”I will enjoy having you close – especially
after I’ve given you the punishment you’ve earned yourself earlier.”

“Oh” Legolas said softly, looking down at their son. “You want...
now?”

“Yes, now,” Glorfindel said slowly, a hungry smile spreading over his
face as he focused his attention on the youth. “Ai, I wonder what I
shall do with you... so many possibilities and so little time! But
then, I will have an eternity to play with you and teach you all the
ways to please me...

Legolas shuddered at Glorfindel’s words, heat spreading through his
body. Slowly he got up, his robe falling open and baring one shoulder
and part of his chest. He pressed a gentle kiss to his sleeping son’s
head, then looked up again. “Where, my lord?” His voice was soft but
he was glad that it did not tremble.

“Are you afraid that our star will know that you have earned yourself
a punishment? Ah, you should not worry, he is still far too young for
that,” Glorfindel said patiently. “But I will bring him to the nurse,
she will look after him while we join Elrond for tea.”

Legolas nodded. He was glad for this small mercy. Their son might
still be too small to know what was happening around him, but
nevertheless he would not be able to bear this kind of humiliation
knowing that their son was close by. Still he hesitated for a moment
before handing Gîlríon over with a sigh. He did not like to leave him
in the care of a nurse, it reminded him too much of his own childhood
and he did not want their son to ever feel that he was not loved and
wanted.

“Do not fear roch-neth, I will tell her that if he gets hungry or
upset, she has to bring him to us immediately.”

“Yes, thank you, my lord,” Legolas sighed and kept his gaze on his
child as Glorfindel carried him out of their room.

“I will be back immediately, you can undress and lie down on our bed,”
Glorfindel said, and Legolas took a deep breath before he entered
their bedroom. Glorfindel did not seem very angry – and in the pool,
he had seemed more amused than enraged. Perhaps it would not be so
bad, Legolas tried to tell himself, perhaps he would not hurt him so
much. But no matter what he chose to do, Legolas was sure that it
would leave him humiliated, once more aware of his place as
Glorfindel’s toy and nothing more.



8

Legolas had spent only a few seconds lying on the cool silken coverlet
when Glorfindel once more returned. The Noldo sat down next to him,
one hand gliding over the smooth, pale skin of the youth’s back,
traveling along the ridges of his spine, following the elegant line of
his flanks down to where the perfect swell of his buttocks seemed to
beg for his touch.

“You know why I’m doing this, do you?” he said gently. “It is not
because you felt pleasure – I want you to feel pleasure. You are very
beautiful to me when you are lost in passion like you were this noon.
And it pleases me to see you become more active. Still, you should
never forget one thing: You are mine. Everything we do is about my
pleasure. It does not matter what you feel – if you do feel pleasure,
be grateful that I allow it because it pleases me. Your situation
could be much worse, little one, it would be very easy for me to make
sure that there won’t be pleasure for you. So, remember this, remember
your place and don’t try to play a game you do not understand. Do you
understand me?”

“Yes, my lord,” Legolas said meekly. “I am sorry...” he added – not so
much because he agreed with Glorfindel’s words but because he felt
shame for his earlier behaviour. Was it any wonder that those Noldorin
youths called him a slut? Today he had truly behaved like one, he
should be happy that they had been alone and without any witnesses of
his wanton behaviour. But at that moment it had felt so good, to know
that he was not just something to use for Glorfindel, no, the Noldo
wanted him, *him*... he could make him shudder, make him gasp and
tremble if he wanted it. Glorfindel might try to deny it, but he did
not only belong to Glorfindel, no, in turn the Noldo belonged to him
as well.

Glorfindel smiled. “You are sorry? Don’t be... try to act as
rebellious as you want, you know very well how I love punishing you.
But I think that you are safe from my more creative methods today,
after all Elrond awaits us in an hour. I’m sure that there will be
another time though. Now come, lie over my knee for your punishment.”

Silently Legolas obeyed. So Glorfindel wanted to spank him again... he
could feel the heat returning to his cheeks at that thought, and at
the same time he also felt relief. This was not so bad, more
humiliating than painful, at least when compared to feeling a belt or
a cane. And perhaps Glorfindel would not be quite so forceful if he
wanted him to accompany him later...

He flinched when he felt Glorfindel’s hand come into contact with his
bottom. There was no force behind the slap though, all it did was to
leave a tingling feeling behind. More of those not-quite-caresses
landed on his skin, and to his humiliation Legolas felt how the
situation affected him. Being totally at Glorfindel’s mercy like this,
it should disgust him, but instead, he felt a spark of excitement in
his belly.

“Come, spread your legs, child,” Glorfindel ordered and Legolas obeyed
helplessly, shuddering when Glorfindel’s hand reached between his legs
to grasp his slowly filling member. The Noldo sighed with appreciation
when he was swollen and hard after just a few strokes, then his hands
returned to caress the firm behind once more while he watched the
youth wriggling, trying to find a comfortable position. When Legolas
finally relaxed again, his member now hot and damp against
Glorfindel’s thigh, Glorfindel let another series of slaps follow. He
was still holding back, using only enough force to turn the pristine
white to a blushing rose colour and only when Legolas began to move,
to rub his hardness against his thigh with each slap Glorfindel
increased their strength.

Soft, keening sounds began to escape Legolas’ lips, his fingers
trembling where he held them over his head, his body helplessly
accepting whatever Glorfindel gave him. Ah, was this what Glorfindel
wanted to teach him? That even if he could tempt Glorfindel, it would
never matter because Glorfindel had complete power over him?

He gasped, moaning with every slap, pushing back against Glorfindel’s
hand, then rocking against the hard muscles beneath him. “Please...”
he begged, feeling no longer shame at his complete surrender as once
more he was overtaken by sensation.

“Yes!” Glorfindel purred and let his hand come down with even more
strength, delighting in the loud slap of skin against skin. Legolas
gasped and moaned without restraint as Glorfindel’s hand covered his
buttocks and the upper part of his thighs, the rose changing to a
light red. “Come for me, roch-neth nín!”

Legolas sobbed and rubbed himself against Glorfindel’s thigh, crying
out when he was finally allowed release. Glorfindel smiled with
amusement, his hands gently rubbing circles on Legolas’ back to soothe
him through the last shudders of his climax.

“Shh, do not cry, little one,” he said gently and pulled Legolas into
his arms, allowing him to sob against his shoulder. “Your eyes will be
all red later if you continue like this... and it was not that bad,
was it?”

“No, my lord,” Legolas said, still sniffling against his chest. “I’m
sorry...”

“Do you even know what you are sorry for, sweet one?” Glorfindel asked
with a patient smile. “This did not happen because you made me
angry... had I been angry, you would be in a lot of pain now. No, I
had to do this so that you would not forget your place. Tell me,
little one, what have I just taught you?”

“That I belong to you, my lord. That it is you who decides whether I
feel pleasure or pain. And, that... that...”

“That I am your master in all things.”

“Yes, my lord...” Legolas whispered, bowing his head.

Glorfindel smiled and kissed him, delighting in the sweetness of the
soft lips against his, the way Legolas was clinging to him, exhausted
and pliant. For long moments Glorfindel kept tasting him without
hunger; he did not want anything more right now than this submission
Legolas offered. It was sweet, more so because he knew what Legolas
had to feel right now. The youth had to be confused at this reaction,
his reaction to a punishment like this which had caused his body to
feel more pleasure than pain. And despite his confusion he still
surrendered and accepted Glorfindel as his master.

Yes, this was sweeter than honey to Glorfindel. Legolas’ trust, his
tender touches and his complete surrender... it made him feel a warmth
inside which he had missed for a long time. “Sweet child...” he
sighed, running his fingers through Legolas hair. And the youth leaned
into his touch and pressed small kisses to his face, almost as if he
could even now not stop to apologize and show his remorse.

Finally Glorfindel pushed him gently away so that he could look down.
Legolas’ soft member was still resting against his thigh, trails of
his silvery essence were scattered all over his leggings and tunic.
The Noldo chuckled and shook his head. “Look what you have done,” he
said with a smile, “now I have to change before we meet Elrond.”

Legolas blushed. “Shall I clean you, my lord?” he asked softly and
lowered his head, his tongue lapping delicately at a spot at the
inside of Glorfindel’s thigh. The Noldo groaned, then shook his head.

“No, I would have had to change anyway, you know that Elrond prefers
formal robes at his table.”

“Do you desire another thing from me?” Legolas breathed and pressed a
gentle kiss to the bulge in Glorfindel’s leggings. “Tell me, my lord,
whatever you want, my mouth, my hands...”

“Ai, you tempt me, sweet prince, but there is not enough time to truly
enjoy you...” Glorfindel sighed, his eyes dark with passion. “I will
wait, little one, wait until this evening to have you. There is one
thing though you will do for me: I want you to use the time to think
of how you will please me tonight. Think about what would give me the
most pleasure and tell me tonight – make it worth to me that I have to
wait so long!”

Legolas’ eyes grew wide as he thought about that challenge. What would
Glorfindel like? It was a difficult assignment... but perhaps it would
keep his thoughts off the stinging heat which now radiated from his
buttocks. “I will try my best, my lord,” he answered and then
carefully stood up to dress in a formal green robe while Glorfindel
chose a light blue for himself.


9

The table was already laden with cups and plates and all sorts of
small cakes when they arrived. There were even some of the almond
cakes Legolas so loved, almost as if the cook had known that today he
and Glorfindel would join Elrond for tea. It should have made Legolas
happy, even more happy than he should already feel for another thing
had happened on their way to Elrond’s rooms. For the first time for
months he did not have to wear Glorfindel’s knots of possession – the
Noldo had simply stopped him in the corridor and then taken out the
knots which told everyone that Legolas was his. He had chosen to
simply ignore Legolas’ questioning glance and had told him in a
matter-of-fact voice that the next time he would wear those knots, it
would only happen after he had first begged him for it.

Which of course was something that would never happen, Legolas told
himself with a little shake of his head. Sometimes he really wondered
what strange thoughts Glorfindel’s golden head harboured. Why should
he beg for something as demeaning and humiliating as wearing another
person’s knots of possession? No, he was perfectly happy the way he
was now... his hair flowing freely down his back, finally rid of the
weight of those horrible knots. Not even another spanking would make
him ask for this!

When they arrived at Elrond’s rooms, Legolas’ steps still light and
energetic from this surprise, there was another unexpected occurence,
although this was not a good one. Apparently Elrond had invited
Erestor as well for the darkhaired advisor sat next to his lord,
several books in front of him which he was just discussing with
Elrond.

Legolas’ shoulders sagged and he sighed, loud enough to be heard by
Glorfindel. But the goldenhaired warrior only rested one hand at the
small of Legolas’ back and gently pushed him forward. The youth had no
other choice than to step up to the valley’s lord and bow to him with
lowered eyes, much deeper than his birth would have warranted, but
then he had no longer any name or title and it was only Elrond’s
kindness which gave him some sort of home here. “Thank you, my lord,
for your invitation,” he said softly and focused his eyes on the
embroidered neck-line of Imladris’ lord, refusing to acknowledge the
disgusted, angry expression which he knew could be found in Erestor’s
eyes.

Now Glorfindel stepped up to him though to lower his head in greeting
of his lord. His arm slipped around Legolas’ waist and pulled him a
little closer, and that gave Legolas enough courage to meet Erestors
eyes with his own and not flinch back. He did not know what he had
done to have Erestor hate him so, apart from being born to Sindarin
parents, but he trusted that the presence of both Glorfindel and
Elrond would keep the advisor from becoming too open in his loathing
of him.

When Glorfindel and Legolas had sat down and Glorfindel had answered a
few questions to the report finished a few hours earlier, Thalaron
appeared as well so that now all those Elrond had wanted to talk with
were gathered.

Legolas was still curious why Elrond had invited them all, and
especially why he was allowed to come along. But then, he reasoned
that his presence did not really matter, even if the lord wanted to
talk about military or diplomatic matters. There was no way for
Legolas to give this information away, and so there would be no need
to deprive Glorfindel of the presence of his toy. A little morosely he
concentrated on one of the wonderful little cakes while Elrond decided
to begin with the real reason why he had invited them all.

“You know that Elrohir writes regularly to me,” he said, pretending to
ignore the sudden stiffening of Erestor’s body. “He is getting along
in Mirkwood as best as we could hope for given the circumstances, and
you know that a lot of the recent developements were only possible
because of his incessant endeavors to make Thranduil’s advisors see
the benefits a steady and longer collaboration would bring their
realm. I do not doubt that without his help Thranduil would not even
have acknowledged our request for a prisoner exchange, much less acted
on it.”

“Yes, he is doing extraordinary work there,” Glorfindel agreed. “Still
I’m not quite sure if it is so good to have him continue staying
there... I do not think that he is really safe there. Even with
Thranduil’s other son in Lórien, it is still possible that some
embittered Sindarin noble might decide that he does not like the
current peace and attack your son.”

“He is old enough to handle situations like this by himself. This is
what we have prepared him for after all – think, Glorfindel, if I were
to die now, he and Elladan would be the Lords of Imladris and would
have to face all those problems and more. No, Elrohir has learned all
that he could here. This stay in Mirkwood will teach him many things
we cannot; he is on his own there and has to face his problems on his
own like any ambassador of our valley.”

Glorfindel sighed. “Very well, my lord. I do understand your
reasoning, and I know that these are invaluable experiences which will
help him grow into a fine lord of our people one day, but nevertheless
I am concerned for him.”

“I know, my friend, and I understand where your concern comes from.”
Elrond rested one hand on top of Glorfindel’s and gently smiled at his
seneschal whose love for his twins was beyond all doubt. “And this is
why I asked Thalaron to join us... tell me, captain,” he then turned
to the other elf, “I would like to send four further guards to
Mirkwood. And since both Galuchén and Merenir have a mate here in
Imladris, I would like to have them return and their place taken by
two other guards. Are there any you would recommend? It would be a
good opportunity for some of the younger guards to get experience in
situations like this, but choose somebody who has learned at least a
little about diplomacy. I do not want to see some of these youths
start another war there!”

“Of course, my lord!” Thalaron nodded. “There are some who I think
would be fitting for this task, I will think some more about this and
send you a list of names tomorrow.”

“I do not think that some more guards will suffice.”

It was the first time that Erestor contributed to the conversation,
and although his voice was soft, it nevertheless carried an air of
unrelenting conviction. “It is not simple strength which will help to
keep Elrohir safe in Mirkwood. Send someone who will understand the
dangers he daily faces, someone who knows the ways of a court.”

Glorfindel snorted. “You want him to send youself, Erestor? Have you
finally decided to put Elrohir out of his misery?”

“No, not me!” Erestor glared at Glorfindel and Elrond sighed and shook
his head.

“Stop, both of you! Glorfindel, let Erestor finish his sentences, and
Erestor, did Glorfindel understand you right? Do you really want to
offer yourself as an advisor to Elrohir?”

“No, that was not what I meant. If I left, you would be without any
help, my lord, and I doubt that I would be a good choice to send to
the court of that damned Sindarin king. I thought of one of the
younger librarians, Arphen perhaps.”

Elrond nodded thoughtfully. “I will consider this... it might be
beneficial to Elrohir although I do not know if Arphen is yet up to
the weight such a position would mean for him. Bring him to my study
some time tomorrow, I want to talk with him first.” Then Elrond turned
to Legolas and smiled at him, deciding to forego matters of state for
now. “In case you have wondered, little prince, there is a reason I
asked for you to join us... I’ve got something for you!”



10

Legolas looked up in surprise at being adressed so suddenly.
“Something for me?” he echoed, staring at the Lord as if he feared bad
news.

Elrond chuckled. “Do not look at me like that, little prince, it is
not that bad... I had Erestor bring me the books he wrote for the
lessons of my children. I understand that your education so far has
been rather fragmentary, and although your love for poetry is
admirable I think that you should also further your education in other
areas. These are books on the history of our realms and also of those
of men and dwarves. I think they should suffice as a beginning... tell
me when you have finished them, there are many more things which will
help you to get a deeper understanding of Arda. For example
languages... can you speak Westron? Khuzdul? Or what about Quenya?
Tell me, can you read and write Valinorean?”

“N-no, my Lord,” Legolas said, clearly confused by these qestions. “I
do not speak the languages of men and dwarves, but I had some lessons
in Quenya as a child. I-I do not think that I could read an entire
text in Quenya, though...” The admission of his ignorance made him
blush, even more so when there came a snort of derision from Erestor.

“So not even the king’s own sons are taught? The ignorance of you
Sindar is no wonder then!”

His cheeks were flushed with shame but nevertheless Legolas glared at
Erestor. What did the advisor know of his life in Mirkwood, of his
father? But he could not just tell him that his father had been too
disgusted by the weakness which he must have shown even then to keep
him at his court....

“Oh, I would not call them ignorant, Erestor, or have you already
forgotten how often their tactics left us surprised and brooding over
solutions deep into the night? No, Legolas,” Elrond then adressed the
young Sinda again, “do not feel ashamed because of your lack of
knowledge. Instead, work through those books I brought, and afterwards
I will have you assigned a tutor to teach you Quenya and some other
languages. Glorfindel, I think that you might even want to take up
that task yourself, after all you are one of the few in this valley
who grew up with that language.”

“Gladly, my Lord,” Glorfindel answered and rested one hand on Legolas’
shoulder. “But you know that my schedule does not leave me much free
time, I do not know if I will be able to teach him regularly every
day...”

“Yes, I know, and that is another thing I wanted to talk about. During
the long years of this war you have worked very hard, Glorfindel, with
almost no time for yourself. Now that we have finally achieved the
peace we have longed for for so long, I wish to relieve you of some of
your duties. I do not think it is neccessary that you ride out with
the guards that often, once a week should suffice, don’t you think? I
know that several of your captains have proven themselves to be more
than capable leaders, you should give them more responsibilities and
have more time to yourself. No, listen to me,” Elrond said sternly
when he saw that his seneschal wanted to protest. “You have a family
now, a little son. Spend more time with him, my friend. Now that we
are finally in a position to enjoy the peace we wished for you should
use this time... he is your first child, you should enjoy this
experience as much as possible. Far too soon he will be grown and you
will wonder how these years could pass so swiftly.”

Elrond’s words left Glorfindel silent for a moment which the
golden-haired Eldar used to think about what his lord had just told
him. At first he wanted to protest against what felt like a demotion,
a dismissal to him. But Elrond was right... he was a warrior, and now
that finally peace was achieved, he no longer had to dedicate his
entire life to protect the valley. Of course the peace was far from
perfect and they would have to continue to keep attention to the
goings-on in Mirkwood, but nevertheless it would not hurt if he
delegated several of his duties.

“Yes...” he finally sighed, “ you are right, Elrond. With the
situation as it is, my presence is not needed all the time anymore – I
will think about your suggestions, my friend, and then talk with my
captains about it.” When Elrond nodded with approval, Glorfindel
turned and smiled at Legolas, the fingers of the hand which still
rested on his shoulder twining a strand of pale golden hair around
them. “What do you say, roch-neth, do you want to learn Quenya?
Believe me, all the poetry you have read will pale before the beauty
of the Ainulindalë in its Quenya form.”

“Yes, my Lord, I would like that,” Legolas answered and smiled at
Glorfindel. He had not thought that Glorfindel would be one to know
and cherish the beauty of words, but then, he had given him the poems
of Arúniel after all. Then the youth offered him another, more
tentative smile. “And our son, I think it will make him very happy to
be together with you more often.”

Elrond gave him a thoughtful look, then raised his eyebrows at
Glorfindel without saying a word. He did not have to, his seneschal
had also picked up on what had suprised Elrond. It surprised
Glorfindel as well, but then, he knew what Legolas’ life had been like
and how much Legolas had yearned for his father’s love. It was only
natural that he would try to offer his son what he himself had never
been able to have. Although this also meant that Glorfindel would not
only have more time to play with his son, but with Legolas as well...
Still, this seemed to be something Legolas was aware of since he
blushed when Glorfindel smirked and pulled at the hair around his
fingers a little too hard for comfort.

“Good, you shall have my company then, both our son... and yourself.”


11

A short while after the conversation had reverted back to political
and military matters, a servant came to inform Legolas that the nurse
had brought his son since he had begun to cry and could not be calmed
again. Elrond, who knew how much work small children could be,
reassured Legolas by telling him that their son was probably only
hungry, and then offered him his bedroom to have some privacy.

Once Legolas had left them, Thalaron continued to discuss his
impression of Mirkwood’s remaining army with Glorfindel and Erestor;
as usual, Glorfindel and Erestor could find no agreement. Elrond
himself was sure that regardless of what plans Thranduil still might
have, right now it would take several months, if not years, to once
again bring Mirkwood back to where they could risk open war.

Deciding to leave his advisors to their argument, Elrond left the
balcony to go have a look at the young prince and his son. Apparently
Legolas had accepted his offer to use his bedroom since the door which
led there was left half-open. When Elrond entered his bedroom he found
Legolas seated on his bed, reclining against the headboard with his
son nursing at his chest.

Legolas looked up and when their eyes met, he blushed, his gaze
involuntarily flickering down to his son and then back to Elrond who
regarded him with an amused smile. It was obvious that Legolas felt
uncomfortable about having him watch, but there was nothing Legolas
could do about it since this was after all Elrond’s room. Not only did
Elrond enjoy, on some level, seeing that look of humiliated
embarassment in the Sinda’s eyes, he also felt the natural curiosity
of a healer who for the first time encountered something that he had
before only rarely found information about. So he walked towards
Legolas and sat down next to him, watching how the apprehension was
growing in the eyes of the prince.

Elrond just smiled and rested his eyes on the small Gîlríon who
ignored him and was solely focused on suckling. It made Legolas frown;
he changed his grip on the small body so that his arm covered himself
and his babe, although he could not even say why he felt like hiding
from Elrond who was, after all, a healer. Still, he did not like being
watched when he already felt so vulnerable and insecure. But the small
movement seemed to have disturbed his little star, who let go of his
nipple to make an angry sound and then latch back onto it once more.
Something was wrong now, though; this time it hurt and Legolas made a
small squeak of surprise and pain while he tried to get the aching nub
free of his son’s insistent mouth.

“Ouch, Gîl! Stop it!” he complained, pressing one hand to the aching
nub while the other held his squirming son in his lap. He groaned
miserably at the feeling of soreness, then glared at Elrond when the
lord actually dared to laugh. Legolas had not invited him to come
watch, so what was he doing here? If he had nothing better to do than
laugh at him, then he could just as well leave. Legolas certainly did
not need him here; he hated having others observe his body. It was
enough that they were already calling him a girl for submitting to
Glorfindel; he did not need to show them that his body had changed to
function like that of a female as well.

But of course Elrond could not simply leave him alone to care for his
son, no, he had to touch him, too. Legolas was very annoyed by now,
and flinched back with an angry hiss when Elrond’s fingers brushed his
hurting nipple, glaring at the Noldo when he dared to reach out for
him once more. “Do not touch me!” he insisted and then growled deep in
his throat when Elrond did not listen and instead held him still
against the headboard of the bed with one hand. His other hand once
more brushed against his nipple, pressing against the swollen area and
taking in the redness and Legolas’ soft gasp.

“Does this happen often?” he asked calmly.

Another glare answered him. “Sometimes.”

“Hmmm...” Elrond mused, changing to the other nipple to prod and
massage there as well. “This happens because you hold him the wrong
way... but I showed you what to do, did I not?”

“Yes,” Legolas admitted, a little calmer now but still clearly unhappy
with the intimate touches. “But sometimes he is too impatient to wait
for me to position him correctly.”

Elrond laughed softly and shook his head. “He will have to learn
patience if you do not want to continue to hurt.” Then he smiled at
Gîlríon and stroked his cheek with one finger. “Impatient and
demanding, hmm? Just like your father to take what you want without
caring if you cause pain...”

Legolas blushed under Elrond’s meaningful smirk, feeling shame at
being so casually humiliated, and by means of his son even!
Nevertheless he kept silent and tried not to give away how Elrond’s
remarks had affected him.

“Stay here, I have a salve which will help with the pain,” Elrond
finally said and got up to get a small pot from a board. When he
returned, Legolas refused to meet his eyes and did his best not to
flinch when his aching nipple was once more touched. The salve felt
good though, and Legolas finally relaxed a little when the pain
lessened under Elrond’s skilful massage. “Next time, you should tell
me if you experience any pain, no matter why or where... I am a healer
after all, and although I have tried to find as much information about
male pregnancies as possible, there is not much written about it.”

Legolas nodded meekly. His anger had disappeared again and all he
wanted right now was to get away from Elrond as fast as possible. Even
if the Noldo was a healer, he hated this forced intimacy. He just
could not bring himself to trust him; even when Elrond was checking
his body he could never forget that this was his father’s nemesis who
touched his most intimate places while he had to helplessly accept all
that was done to him.

“I am beginning to write down all I could gather from your pregnancy,”
Elrond began to tell him while his hand was still moving in gentle
circles over Legolas’ chest. “Now that I am finally able to witness
such a pregnancy, I am sure that this will someday help somebody... at
least when you carry Glorfindel’s next child we will know what to
expect.”

Glorfindel’s next child... Legolas chose not to answer and instead
only sighed. That was not something he looked forward to... especially
not when he still felt so insecure when it came to caring for Gîlríon.
Would they not at least give him some time to grow more experienced
with the raising of a child?

“Your other children are going to be as adorable as this little one, I
think,” Elrond smiled and watched as Gîlríon’s blue eyes fixed on him
in fascination. “Yes, little star, you look forward to having
siblings, don’t you? I will enjoy seeing children playing in my
gardens once more... and you, princeling, you will enjoy having a
family like that, won’t you?”

Legolas’ eyes widened. Did Elrond know...? But no... how could he?
Perhaps he was so easy to read that it was obvious to everybody how
much he needed those small tokens of affection Glorfindel granted
him?It was pathetic, this need, Legolas knew that, but until now he
had always hoped that nobody knew that weakness of his. “I will always
love my children,” he declared and felt to his great dismay the threat
of tears. No, he could not start crying, not in front of Elrond... he
would never be able to forgive himself if he brought that shame on
himself.

“I know, little one,” Elrond sighed and gently forced his chin up so
he could look into Legolas’ eyes. “There is a lot of love inside of
you, isn’t there? No, do not fear me,” he then added when Legolas
again lowered his eyes, “I will not hurt you. And you should not fear
Glorfindel either, he cares for you very much... If you could bring
yourself to trust him completely, I think that you would find that
there is nothing for you to fear here. But you cannot do that yet, can
you?”

Legolas was trembling a little; his eyes showed that he did not
understand what Elrond tried to tell him, that he was even scared by
this sudden friendliness.

“You look very beautiful, sweet prince,” Elrond whispered and pressed
a kiss to the Sinda’s brow. “And I think that it might make you feel
better if you were to wear your braids... Remember that you are not a
nameless, unimportant plaything; you are the one who will carry the
heirs of Glorfindel the Balrog-slayer, Lord of the House of the Golden
Flower, beloved of all our people. And while you belong to Glorfindel,
you do not belong to anyone else, so try to show that you are no toy,
indeed you are of far nobler birth than those who mock you!”

“But I am no longer a prince...” Legolas almost whimpered when
Elrond’s words brought back the pain of being exiled by his own
father.

“Yes, you are! You were born as a prince and nobody can take that away
from you! Your father, your whole realm might try to pretend that you
don’t exist, but this does not change the fact that you do exist, that
you are a prince, the youngest prince of Mirkwood!”

Tears began to run down Legolas’ cheeks. He had so desperately tried
to hold them back but now he could no longer fight them. Elrond’s
words had shattered something inside him and he began to sob, shaking
against the Peredhel who readily gathered him into his arms.

“Shh little prince, do not cry,” Elrond whispered sweetly into his
ear. “You are not made for tears, beautiful one...” His mouth moved to
the silvery tracks on Legolas’ cheeks and kissed the moisture away,
then pressed gentle kisses all over the youth’s face until Legolas
finally stopped crying. “Such beauty... how could anybody not love
you?” he sighed and then took Legolas’ mouth, gently and yet
insistently sampling what so far only Glorfindel had tasted. Legolas’
lips parted for him in what could have been a startled gasp, or
perhaps also willing submission. And when Elrond’s tongue delved deep
into his mouth to explore, Legolas did not follow it’s invitation to
play but neither did he pull away. After a moment, Elrond even managed
to coax a soft, helpless moan from somewhere deep in Legolas’ throat
when he did not relent in his agressive exploration. The eyes of the
Noldo lightened up with pleased satisfaction, and he became gentler
and raised one hand to caress Legolas’ hair. Then he turned a little,
still tenderly kissing the youth, and raised his eyes to throw a gaze
both teasing and challenging to Glorfindel who stood frozen in the
door.



12

“What exactly are you doing there, my lord?” Glorfindel asked slowly.
His voice was calm... too calm, and Elrond knew that his friend was
only a very small step away from showing his infamous temper. At the
sound of Glorfindel’s voice the young prince in his arms had frozen as
well until he suddenly pulled away from Elrond and scrambled
backwards, only stopping when he felt the headboard at his back. His
eyes were wide and filled with dread, he was once more shaking as
panic began to set in, and for a moment Elrond felt remorse for what
he had done. It was not something that he had planned to do; at the
beginning he had only wanted to talk with Legolas and see how this
situation affected him. But then this chance had presented itself, a
chance perhaps to finally make Glorfindel realize that Legolas was
more than those he had taken to his bed before.

Of course this action could disastrously rebound and cause more hurt
to these two, but this was a risk Elrond told himself he had to take
if he wanted to see an improvement of this situation in the near
future. As much as he loved his seneschal, sometimes you had to hurt
your friends in order to help them – as least if they were as
pig-headed as his dear seneschal.

“Oh, I think that is obvious! I wanted to know if your fair prince
tastes as sweet as his appearance promises. And so far you have never
protested if I wanted a small sample of your lovers.” Elrond smiled,
then got up from the bed. “Do not be angry with him, I surprised him.”

Glorfindel stayed silent, still not moving and not showing any
reaction to Elrond’s words. His eyes had darkened in what could have
been both rage and hurt at being betrayed so; Elrond was not sure. But
when he moved closer to his friend in order to leave the room, he once
more spoke, this time in a whisper that was meant only for
Glorfindel’s ears.

“Now ask yourself what you feel, and ask yourself why you feel it.”

Glorfindel flinched and turned to look into Elrond’s eyes. So this was
what was behind it? This was just some sort of game to prove a point
to him? Elrond would frighten the Sindarin child out of his wits, he’d
destroy any trust the young prince might have developed, only to gain
an advantage in a game Glorfindel did not even want to play?

No... Elrond had always been his friend as much as his Lord, but that
strange, calculating creature he saw in front of himself now did not
have any resemblance to the man he had been glad to call his friend.
“Do you not care at all about how deeply you have hurt him?” he
murmured tonelessly, the feeling of betrayal obvious in his eyes.

“Ah, and now ask yourself why *you* care,” Elrond whispered in a voice
which seemed strangely sad, and then he left the room to return to the
balcony where Erestor and Thalaron were still waiting. Glorfindel did
not move for several minutes, he kept standing in the door and
watching Legolas who still crouched at the end of the bed. Pale,
shocked, trembling, his cheeks wet with tears... it was obvious what
Elrond’s casual use of him had done to the youth. Glorfindel still
felt betrayed, still wanted vengeance for the pain in Legolas’ eyes,
but at the same time a feeling grew inside him which was dark and too
powerful to resist. It told him that he should not care, that he
should ignore the state Legolas was in; after all, the Sinda had been
a willing participant in the kiss, had not protested... he deserved
the pain, yes, he deserved a good deal more, a cane, no, one of the
whips humans used on their horses...

“Please, I am sorry...” Legolas whispered finally. His lashes were
sparkling with tears when he raised his eyes to give Glorfindel a
pleading gaze, his son cradled tightly against his chest as if he were
afraid that Glorfindel might take him away from him.

The golden-haired warrior gave him a look filled with such rage that
Legolas flinched back, then Glorfindel turned and left the room
without another word. Legolas broke down then, curled around his son
and sobbed until there were no more tears left.



It took an hour until Legolas finally found the courage to leave
Elrond’s bed. The lord had not come back to see him and Legolas was
glad. He did not think that he could look at Elrond again without
showing how betrayed he felt, how much it had hurt him to see himself
handled as a toy by the very same man whose sweet words had given him
back some confidence only moments before. And now he had to face
Glorfindel, there was no way around it... Legolas hoped that in the
meantime the warrior had calmed a little, but he did not really
believe it. That look in Glorfindel’s eyes had scared him – but there
was nothing he could do about it. If the Noldo decided to punish him,
he would just have to accept it - even if it meant submitting to the
cane once more, or to whatever other means of punishment Glorfindel
deemed neccessary...



Glorfindel was not in their rooms when Legolas finally forced himself
to enter them. This caused both relief and even greater panic in
Legolas. He had never known Glorfindel to wait; usually the warrior
would act immediately whether it was a matter of punishment or
politics. That he kept away from their room now scared Legolas;
perhaps Glorfindel’s rage was so great that he feared doing Legolas
permanent harm if he dealt with him now?

Legolas sighed. He would have to wait and see what Glorfindel would do
with him, but for now he could do nothing but wait. He pressed a
gentle kiss to his son’s brow and then put him to sleep in his cradle.
They had put it in what had once been Glorfindel’s dressing room; now
it was a nursery and Legolas was for once glad about the wall which
separated him and his son. At least Gîlríon would not see or hear what
happened when Glorfindel eventually returned...



It was already dark outside when Glorfindel finally entered his
bedroom. Legolas was asleep, naked as Glorfindel had decreed so many
months ago and tightly curled in on himself. There were tracks of
dried tears on his face and every so often he would whimper and move
restlessly. It was obvious that Legolas’ sleep was darkened by the
events of the afternoon, but Glorfindel did not move to comfort him.
Instead he pulled his clothes off and threw them against the wall, not
caring where they ended up. When he was naked he joined Legolas on the
bed and shook him hard until the youth jerked awake with a frightened
whimper.

“Well?” Glorfindel hissed. “I set you a task earlier today... have you
decided on a way to pleasure me?”

Legolas stared at him, wide-eyed and trembling with fear. This was not
what he had expected – did Glorfindel want to pretend that nothing had
happened? At least it was better than being punished, Legolas tried to
tell himself. But with the events of the day, he had completely
forgotten about Glorfindel’s request... what could he do? What would
Glorfindel like? Always Glorfindel had been the one to initiate
intimacy, always Glorfindel would tell him how to please him. How was
he supposed to think of something special? He had no experience in
these matters, and Glorfindel knew it...

Nevertheless he had to do something or Glorfindel would decide to
punish him after all. “I... I could use my mouth... if you would
like...” Legolas stammered and then bent down to give some tiny licks
to Glorfindel’s shaft. The Noldo was already half hard, so Legolas
tried to take him deeper into his mouth, desperate to not irritate
Glorfindel any further. Over the months, Legolas had become more
skilled but it still was not easy for him to overcome the fear of
choking. That was why he usually took his time, taking more and more
of the lord’s considerable length in small steps, but today he did not
think that he should wait or Glorfindel might get even angrier. So he
forced himself down, trying to take all of Glorfindel as deep as
possible. Of course this did not work; Legolas had to fight the reflex
to cough and was soon choking around the swollen shaft, crying in
panic both at the lack of air and the certainty that he had now
enraged Glorfindel beyond anything that he had experienced before.

Suddenly he was yanked back; Glorfindel glared at him and then simply
threw him down on the bed and moved to cover him with his body.
“Enough, you stupid little... was that supposed to please me? Is your
fumbling, your ineptitude, supposed to arouse me? If you are not able
to serve me properly, I’m going to take what I need, and don’t you
start crying, you had your chance!”

Legolas was sobbing softly but nevertheless spread his legs when he
felt Glorfindel’s hardness nudge his opening. And then the Noldo
pushed into him, one thrust so hard that he was buried completely
inside the young prince. Legolas whimpered at the burn – he had oiled
himself earlier that day but that was already several hours ago and it
was not enough to ease the way. The only thing that helped a little
was his own saliva, but nevertheless Legolas whimpered from the hot,
burning sensation of being taken so forcibly. And it only got worse;
soon Glorfindel was pounding into him with abandon and without any
regard for the pain he caused. At least it did not take long until
Glorfindel reached his climax, and Legolas sobbed his relief when the
hot length inside him twitched and spurted scalding seed deep into his
abused passage. The Noldo growled and thrust one, twice more, then
fell down onto his back.

Legolas did not dare move lest Glorfindel decided that it was not
enough. He hurt and Glorfindel was so heavy on his back that it became
hard to breathe, but above all he was shocked by the fact that he had
not come. No matter what, so far Glorfindel had always made sure that
he experienced pleasure as well, even that violent first time... But
this time Glorfindel had not cared about him at all, had not taken
care to angle his thrusts so that Legolas would be aroused.

Then Glorfindel got up, put his clothes back on, and left without a
word. Once more Legolas was shaken by sobs, but all the events of the
day had left him so exhausted that he fell asleep after a few minutes,
only to jerk awake again sometime later after a nightmare. Several
times the same thing happened until he grew afraid of sleep and the
dreams it brought, and yet he could not fight his body’s need, and so
always slipped back into reverie.

Finally he woke once more when the light of Arien was already sending
the first rays to fight the darkness of the night, and this time he
was no longer alone. Glorfindel must have returned while he had been
asleep; the golden warrior rested behind him and had drawn him into
his arms, his face buried in Legolas’ hair. Once more tears began to
slide down Legolas’ cheeks, but this time it was from relief.
Glorfindel no longer hated him, Glorfindel no longer sought to punish
him... perhaps it was too early yet to see if he had forgiven him, but
at least Glorfindel had returned to him. And when Legolas fell asleep
this time, there were no more nightmares while Glorfindel held him
close.



13



Legolas was still asleep when Glorfindel woke up. It was already late,
the sun was high up in the sky, and for a moment Glorfindel wondered
why nobody had come to wake him so that he could fulfill his daily
duties. Legolas was sleeping peacefully, his head buried against
Glorfindel’s throat so that with each breath, the youth’s slightly
parted lips caressed his skin with warm air. A soft whimper greeted
Glorfindel’s first movement, and Legolas pressed himself more tightly
against him. It was almost as if he were desperate not to lose contact
with Glorfindel’s skin, and for a moment Glorfindel revelled in the
warmth of the slender body so close to him, a warmth which seemed to
be caused not only by bodily closeness, but even more so by affection,
by love and trust.

Then memory returned to him and he froze. His trust had been betrayed,
by both Elrond and Legolas. He remembered that moment when he saw them
kiss, remembered the pain... and how could his lord, his best friend
hurt him so? After those long centuries of servitude, how could Elrond
betray him like this?

Yes, Glorfindel remembered the pain, and oh, he also remembered what
he had done to Legolas in retaliation. He had – he had raped him.

There was no other word for what he had done. He had taken him
brutally, made him hurt and bleed, not for his own pleasure, but
solely because he wanted to punish Legolas. Sickness rose up in him,
and his stomach seemed to clench as he realized that now, finally, he
had crossed a line, and had commited the one crime he had promised
himself that he would never become guilty of.
This was worse than when he had taken Legolas for the first time. Then
he had been brutal as well but he had realized in time what crime he
was about to commit, before he had completely destroyed the innocent
youth. Now, though... there was no going back. No matter how much pain
Legolas had caused him, he should not have punished him like that. He
should have taken a cane to him, a whip even, but to punish him like
this, to twist something which always should mean pleasure and ecstasy
into an act of torture...

Glorfindel sobbed once then swallowed the sound, afraid to wake
Legolas and be confronted with his fear and revulsion. He bowed his
head in grief, buried his face in the golden hair of the young prince,
a tear escaping his eyes and running down his cheek.

“Forgive me, Legolas...” he whispered and pressed his lips to his
brow, then gently extricated himself from the tight grip of the
youth’s arms and got up. He spent a long time standing at the window,
staring blankly outside where the sun was shining brightly, almost as
if to mock the darkness in his heart.

Finally Legolas stirred. Slowly he propped himself up on his elbow,
blinking as his eyes focused on the light-filled room. He yawned and
stretched, rolling over to where he usually rested against
Glorfindel’s body, but when he found that part of the bed empty, he
sighed and sat up.The motion caused a painful, burning sensation in
his lower body. He was used to soreness, but this was worse than what
he usually felt after Glorfindel had claimed him. He hissed softly and
frowned when he saw that the Noldo stood at the other side of the room
against the window with a unreadable expression on his face. And at
that moment, when his eyes met those of Glorfindel, he remembered.

For a long moment he kept sitting in the bed as if frozen, returning
Glorfindel’s gaze out of wide, fearful eyes. Then finally Glorfindel
moved; he turned away from Legolas and entered the bathroom without a
word, and at that perceived rejection, the Sindarin prince began to
cry silently, shaking as he realized what his betrayal had done. But
Glorfindel did not stay away for long; after a short moment he came
back with a jar in his hand and sat down on the bed next to Legolas.

“Shh, do not cry” he soothed, pain obvious in his voice, when Legolas
flinched away from him. “I am not going to hurt you...” Not again, he
added silently.


At those words, Legolas lowered his head in supplication until his
forehead rested on Glorfindel’s thigh, crying even harder. “Please, I
am sorry,” he said brokenly. “Please, please don’t send me away.
Punish me any way you want but do not take my son away from me...”

Glorfindel closed his eyes, then he pulled Legolas into his arms.
“Hush, pen-neth, I won’t send you away, and I will never ever part you
from our son! I... I am sorry about the way I reacted yesterday.” It
was the truth; he felt terrible remorse. He had not thought that he
would actually be able to apologize, but now that he was confronted
with Legolas’ fears – ai, what a monster he must appear to be if the
youth actually thought him able to take their son away from him! “I
should not have hurt you that way. But you must understand, little
prince, I have warned you about my temper... and to see you betray me
like this! I should have taken a cane or a whip to you, and believe
me, if this happens again I will do so, do you understand me?”

“Yes, my lord,” Legolas sobbed and clutched at Glorfindel’s arms. “I
am so sorry, I know I deserved the punishment.. but please, I did not
want to betray you, I was so confused, so afraid...”

Glorfindel sighed. Yes... he would have to talk to Elrond again. There
was no acceptable apology for this; his lord’s reasons were callous
and entirely self-serving. But first he had to calm his princeling and
see what harm he had done...

Glorfindel kept one hand on Legolas’ back and rubbed the pale skin to
soothe him as his other hand dipped once into the jar of healing salve
and then began to rub it carefully around Legolas’ sore opening.
Legolas whimpered softly and Glorfindel became even gentler, pressing
a light kiss to the tip of his ear to distract him as he pushed one
finger inside to spread the salve there as well. “Shhh,” Glorfindel
whispered again and kissed the soft, tear-stained lips, “I am sorry
for what I did... I promise you, I will never punish you that way
again."

Legolas sighed and rested his head on Glorfindel’s shoulder, a little
uncomfortable because of the slowly moving finger inside his still
burning passage. But in spite of his discomfort, he was still grateful
that his lord not only seemed to have forgiven him, but also tried to
ease his pain. “No, I am sorry, my lord, and I promise that I will
never again allow another to touch me, no matter who they are.”

“Yes,” Glorfindel agreed, his eyes growing dark for a moment. “Yes,
you had better keep that promise, because you do not want to know what
I am otherwise capable of.”


14

Once he had finished tending to Legolas, Glorfindel left to find out
what had happened to his work while he was asleep. Unfortunately, the
first person he came upon was Erestor, who sneered at him, commenting
on his age and the fact that it must be very exhausting for him to
keep up with his little toy. After another round of only thinly veiled
insults, Glorfindel finally managed to find out that Elrond had
already implemented the plans he had spoken of yesterday, and most of
his usual work was being taken care of by his captains. Glorfindel was
not happy about this, despite the free time it granted him, but at
least that left only one other task for him now... finding Elrond and
clarifying a few things. After having spent almost the entire night
walking through the gardens in an attempt to calm himself and to
gather his thoughts, it was time now to confront the one who had been
the cause of all this.

Finding the Lord of the Valley was actually harder than Glorfindel had
thought since he was neither in his rooms nor in the library or the
healers’ chambers. Finally, after what felt to Glorfindel like the
fifth trip through all of the Last Homely House’s rooms and corridors,
he encountered Elrond. The dark haired Noldo had just come around the
corner which led to the kitchen and storerooms when he found himself
eye to eye with his blond seneschal, who scowled at him instead of
apologizing for running into him. Glorfindel’s mood had steadily grown
worse with every room he had found empty; every corridor he crossed
gave him more time to once again sink down into the dark, simmering
anger of the last night.

“Elrond, so you exist after all!” he said angrily, staring at the
Noldorin Lord who did not even seem to be aware of what his actions
had done. “I have been looking for you for what feels like the better
part of the day!”

Elrond frowned, then shook his head with a sigh. “Your usual duties
are already being taken care of. I’ve told you yesterday that I don’t
want you to–“

“Yes,” Glorfindel interrupted him darkly, “and I did not look for you
to beg for more work. On the contrary, my Lord,” he spat the title out
like an insult, “I came to tell you that I will not do any of your
paperwork today. Instead I think I will have to spend all day trying
to remedy what you so carelessly destroyed yesterday.”

“Legolas?” Elrond took a deep breath, then sighed. “Look, Glorfindel,
I did not want to cause you any pain, I simply wanted you to realize–“

With a growl Glorfindel swept Elrond against the wall, simultaneously
yanking his dagger from his belt and pressing it to the Elven Lord’s
throat in a motion so swift and smooth that Elrond did not even
realize what was happening until the cold metal rested against his
skin.

“You wanted me to realize something, my friend? Do you want to know
what you made me do? I raped him, Elrond. I raped him. And all of his
pain, his tears, his blood and his fears were caused by you.”

Glorfindel closed his eyes. His voice was shaking, as well as his hand
which held the dagger. It had all come back to him... his anger, his
despair, the violent need to see somebody punished in retribution for
the hurt he felt... Legolas’ tears, his pliant submissiveness, limply
accepting his punishment... and his own terrible enjoyment of it. It
was all Elrond’s fault – it had to be! How could he possibly accept
that there was a darkness like this inside him, some horrible dark
presence which fed on the pain and the tears of one who was far too
weak to protect himself?

And now he had even used his knife to threaten his lord, the one he
had sworn fealty and obeisance to! What had he been thinking? No –
this went too far. He had no control over himself anymore, he had to
stop this before something happened which he could never atone for.

With a soft, desperate sob, he pulled the weapon away from Elrond and
thrust it into the wooden door frame against which the Peredhel's
shoulder was pressed. Elrond flinched as the dagger struck hard
scarcely a hand's breadth from his neck. “Never again try to help me,
my Lord, lest I kill somebody the next time you decide to meddle in my
affairs!”

Open-mouthed and visibly shaken, Elrond watched as his seneschal ran
from him, the  dagger still quivering from the force which had been
used to thrust it into the door frame next to his head. For a few
moments he stood there, simply trying to gather his thoughts and calm
his breath, then he made a decision.

“Wait, Glorfindel! Don’t run away from me!” he shouted as he hastened
after his seneschal. The golden-haired elf did not listen to him, but
Elrond did not relent in his pursuit of the distraught elf. Finally
Glorfindel had to stop or else find himself running through the more
heavily traveled hallways of Imladris with its Lord in pursuit,
yellling about events that no other elf had a right to know.

“Curse you, Elrond, what do you want from me?” Glorfindel growled as
he turned to face his pursuer. “Haven’t you done enough already?”

“You cannot simply throw something like... like that into my face and
expect me to just accept it!” Elrond had clearly lost his patience as
well. The aura of calmness he usually seemed to generate was left
behind along with Glorfindel’s dagger; his grey eyes sparked with a
power which could be unleashed by a single wrong word and break down
upon the other like lightning at any moment. “You raped him,
Glorfindel? You raped him and now dare to blame me for it? No, do not
argue with me now! What about Legolas?” Elrond took a deep, calming
breath. “What did you do to him? Does he need my attention?”

“I think he has already seen enough of your attention!” Glorfindel
snorted, answering Elrond’s scowl with a glare of his own. The anger
was still there, simmering deep inside him, but the reminder of what
his actions could have done to Legolas calmed him more effectively
than any reasoning of Elrond. “It is good to see that you care about
him so much... but no, he is not hurt. I already took care of him.
Although not every wound of his is as easy to treat... Do you have any
idea what you did to him yesterday? Just when he began to develop a
little trust? Your little game was successful, Elrond, indeed I have
now proven how much I care for him – but you did not think that you
would be the first one to feel the result of this care, did you? Stay
away from him, Elrond, and cease your games. He does not deserve to be
a pawn to be used by you, and not even our friendship will stay my
hand should you try something like that again.”

Elrond’s eyes had grown cold during Glorfindel’s little speech, and
when he was finished, the Peredhel nodded stiffly. “I understand,
Glorfindel, and I realize that what I did to Legolas yesterday was not
entirely fair. Yet you cannot blame me for the crime you committed;
you have only your own temper to blame for that. And if you indeed
have finally realized that you care for the little prince, you would
do better to work on controlling that temper in the future. Now return
to him if that is what you want, you can resume your work tomorrow. I
have to meet with Erestor now.”

Glorfindel could not believe that Elrond would simply dismiss him like
that, but while he stood there in the hallway still white with anger,
the Lord of the Valley turned his back on him and walked away.

Glorfindel slowly shook his head. He would never have thought that
their friendship would one day end like this, and because of a
Sindarin prince at that! Still, there were things which he simply
could not forgive that easily... if Elrond valued their friendship, he
would have to do more to regain his trust. As it seemed right now,
Glorfindel would have to adjust himself to coldness and silence at
Elrond’s table from now on.



15

~~~

Several weeks passed without incident. The new arrangement of the
guards and their captains’ schedules worked as well as Elrond had
hoped, which left Glorfindel with a great amount of free time. As
proposed he had undertaken to instruct Legolas in Quenya, and the
young Sinda had proven to be an inquisitive and eager student – if his
mind was not occupied by other things, which happened far too often
for Glorfindel’s liking. Their son, Legolas’ training in weaponry, the
history books of Erestor or the latest volume of poetry – almost
anything could distract his young student from his lessons.

Glorfindel was sorely tempted to give him a thorough spanking so that
Legolas would finally learn to pay attention – but he had thus far
refrained. He could still remember how easily the twins had been
fascinated by each and every thing when they were as young, and
somehow he found himself sympathizing with the youth who was now for
the first time allowed to ask questions.

And of course there was still the matter of that night when he had
taken the youth brutally, in order to punish him. Since then the
thought of causing Legolas pain no longer held delight for him. Every
time he thought to discipline the young prince he again felt the panic
and remorse he had felt after he realized what he had done.

This situation was not acceptable to Glorfindel. He could not allow
this irrational fear to stay his hand when it came to discipline. The
youth needed to have firm limits set now or the future would lead to
more misunderstandings and power struggles. Still, it was hard to
punish Legolas when he came to him flushed and breathless, talking of
a blue butterfly with obvious delight, when he should have already
finished the translation of a poem – more so because he could still
remember the terrible fear in Legolas’ eyes not so long ago.

Glorfindel demanded submission, but he did not like it when it was
brought on by fear alone. He had thought those days to be long gone,
but through Elrond’s meddling, Legolas’ confidence and trust had
experienced a relapse. The youth was still painfully shy when it came
to interaction with the other Noldor of Imladris; he kept quiet during
dinner and during his training sessions and in general tried not to
catch anyone’s attention. The only one he allowed himself to act
unguarded around was Glorfindel, and while the seneschal was happy
about that fact, it baffled him. After all he, had been the one to
betray Legolas’ trust; he had broken his promise to protect him.

This uncomfortable fact made it all the more harder for Glorfindel to
enforce discipline when it came to lessons. He was the only one that
the youth trusted, and after the recent crisis, he did not want to
strain that trust further by having to punish Legolas over the matter
of lessons. The studies in language and weaponry and history were all
in his best interest - yet if Legolas did not soon exert self-control,
then he would be forced to take a firm hand to encourage his
attention. For apart from his general neglect in training Legolas, it
seemed that Thranduil had also failed to encourage self-discipline, a
trait that the young prince sorely needed to develop if he were ever
to grow into the position that he was born to.

Nor was this matter of lessons the only area in which Glorfindel
hesitated to exert control. Even the pleasure that he took from
Legolas was tainted by that night. It seemed that Legolas had forgiven
him, or – more likely – was convinced that Glorfindel’s actions had
been a just punishment he had earned, despite the fact that Glorfindel
had admitted his mistake. It left the Noldo in an awkward situation as
he could not quite bring himself to use Legolas as was his right, and
so he had held back at night.  Refraining from hurting the youth
nevertheless meant that he was at the same time denying himself
pleasure, the kind of pleasure that only the feeling of a trembling,
helpless body beneath him could bring. And Glorfindel had never been
somebody to deny himself, especially not when it came to pleasure. His
frustration grew with each day he forced himself to gentleness as he
took Legolas, making him irritable and short-spoken when he met with
his captains.

The situation between the Lord of Imladris and his seneschal was also
still unresolved. Elrond had not said a single word about the event,
beyond the heated exchange in the hallway that day. Every time they
had meals at his table, both Glorfindel and Elrond refused to talk to
each other. This in turn caused the other members of the household to
keep silent as well, fearing to worsen the situation. Meetings in
Elrond’s study had also shortened considerably; Glorfindel never
stayed longer than needed. A few frosty words while he delivered the
reports of his captains was the only interaction that took place
between them.

But today something had happened which brought a change to the usual
routine of the day. During the last exchange of prisoners with
Mirkwood, one of Elrond’s advisors, who had been taken during the war,
had been freed together with several other Noldorin warriors. Most of
those who had survived their time as prisoners left for the Grey
Havens, after spending some time in Lórien until they were well enough
for the long journey. But Ellonúr, together with two other warriors,
had decided to return to Imladris and his place in his Lord’s council.
As a servant had just told Glorfindel, the small group had arrived an
hour ago, so instead of the usual dinner, a small feast would be held
to celebrate the event.

Legolas had been frightened when he heard the news as he was well
aware that someone who had been a prisoner of his father could only
harbor hostile feelings towards him, despite the fact that Legolas’
own relationship with his father was rather complicated. Dinner would
probably mean humiliation for him as those Noldor would certainly
enjoy seeing the son of their enemy in a position like this. On the
other hand there had been situations like this before and by now he
should have learned to live with them, Legolas told himself while he
looked through the robes that Glorfindel had had made for him. Surely
it could not be worse than that evening when he had insulted Celeborn
and had then been punished by Glorfindel...

The memory made him shiver which in turn directed Glorfindel’s
attention to him. The golden haired elf had just decided on a robe for
himself which he now laid out on the bed. As usual when it came to
ceremonial events it was embroidered with tiny golden flowers, the
symbol of his house. Next to the robe there was a small box which, as
Legolas knew, contained a hairbrush and several small hairclips, also
made from gold and formed into filigreed golden flowers.

Glorfindel frowned when he saw Legolas so lost in thought. He sat down
on the bed, next to the small box, and patted the space between his
thighs, ordering Legolas to sit there. He wrapped his arms around him
when the youth obeyed, drawing him closer and resting his cheek
against the soft hair of the young prince.

“Well, roch-neth? What is it that makes you frown so?” he asked,
although he was fairly sure that he knew the source of Legolas’
concern.

The Sinda sighed, then bit his lip. “Do I have to accompany you to
dinner, my lord? Can I not stay with Gîl instead? I am sure that no
one would miss my presence...”

“I would, little one,” Glorfindel said and gently kissed Legolas’
neck. “I enjoy having you close to me, you know that. I also know why
it is that you do not want to come to the Hall of Fire tonight, but
believe me, if you stay away everybody will think that you are
frightened. There is nothing you have to be afraid of – you are mine
and I will not allow anyone to harm you, not even if it is one of
Elrond’s advisors.”

Legolas was clearly not convinced by those words, but he had learned
to obey Glorfindel and so simply nodded with an unhappy sigh.

The seneschal continued to study him, frowning as an idea came to him.
It had been one of Elrond’s suggestions, yes, but perhaps it might
raise Legolas’ confidence enough to make the evening bearable for him
– of course, it could instead make the evening even worse, but at some
point Legolas would have to face who he was and who he would be one
day, if the Valar were willing.

Legolas did not react when Glorfindel took up the brush and began to
move it gently through his hair, but when the Noldo was finished and
instead began to take several strands and interweave them into a
complex structure, he frowned again. “What are you doing, my Lord?” he
asked, wincing when Glorfindel tugged at a strand. Had he not been
told that he would only wear his knots again if he begged for it? Why
would Glorfindel change his mind now?

“What do you think I’m doing, little one?” Glorfindel asked back and
laughed as he finished his work. “This is after all not a normal
dinner; we are expected to dress for the occasion – and that means
that you will look the way someone of your position should look."

Legolas groaned. So he would once again be flaunted as Glorfindel’s
possession, as a slave, a whore... But he had survived it before, and
so he would survive it again, he told himself in resignation when
Glorfindel turned him around so he could look into the mirror next to
the bed.

What he saw there made him freeze. It was no slave who looked at him
from the mirror, nor was it Glorfindel’s willing whore – no, this was
someone he had never seen before. It was Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood,
whose pale hair was woven into the ceremonial braids of the Royal
Family of Mirkwood.


16

For a long moment Legolas stared at his image in the mirror. He was
speechless – he had not expected this. Slowly he raised a hand to
touch his intricately woven hair, as if he doubted the reality of what
he saw. Yet this was real, his hair soft against his fingertips, the
knots and loops following the pattern which was so familiar and yet so
new. The Royal Braids... how often had he dreamed of wearing them one
day? And yet he had known deep within his heart that it could never
be, not after all that he had done...

When he finally spoke, it was not what Glorfindel had expected. “Why?”
Legolas said in a small voice, tears already starting to form in his
eyes. “Why mock me like this? Please my lord, don’t force me to do
this – ai, I cannot bear it...”

Glorfindel was stunned – he had expected gratitude, not tears.
Frowning, he turned Legolas around, brushing his tears away with his
thumb. “Why are you crying, pen lend? I do not want to mock you – you
are a prince, it is your right to wear these braids!”

“But I am no prince, my lord!” Legolas cried out, and all of a sudden
Glorfindel found himself with an armful of distraught youth sobbing
against his shoulder.

“Legolas! Calm yourself!” Glorfindel was shocked by this outburst. No,
this was indeed not what he had expected, but how could he have
foreseen this reaction? All he had wanted to do was to raise Legolas’
self-confidence, and instill some of the pride he should feel as a
prince of his people.

“I am not worthy of them,” Legolas sobbed. “I do not deserve to wear
them; my father would never have allowed it! Take them out, take them
out and give me back your knots of possession, for that is who I am
now!”

“No, little one,” Glorfindel said, and gently began rubbing Legolas’
back. “I said that you will have to beg for my knots, but not like
this, and not for this reason.”

The young prince did not react. He did not even seem to listen as he
wept his shame and despair into Glorfindel’s tunic, but the seneschal
continued to soothe and hold him until finally the tears subsided.
Then he raised Legolas’ face and kissed the tear-stained cheeks,
smiling at the tired and hopeless look on the face of the youth. “You
are so young, sweet one... you have not yet learned that not
everything is as bleak as it looks to you at the moment. You are a
prince; your father might deny it, but one day you will be restored to
your rightful position – I promise you. I do not mean these braids as
a mockery; no, I only want to make certain that everyone who looks
upon you this evening knows that they stand before Legolas, Prince of
Mirkwood. I will not allow anyone to ridicule you; have I not promised
to protect you?”

Glorfindel grinned when Legolas grudgingly nodded. “What do you think,
then – shall I bear my sword with me to the feast? The first one who
looks at you the wrong way will get pierced by my sword.” Despite his
tears, Legolas snickered. “Not that sword!” Glorfindel admonished with
mock outrage although he was secretly pleased at having brought a
smile to the youth’s face.

“See? It is not that bad, is it?” he then said softly, his voice
serious once more. The young prince nodded and raised a hand to rub at
his reddened eyes. It made Glorfindel smile; Legolas looked like a
small child pouting because another child had stolen its sweets. But
then, that thought wasn’t so far off – Legolas was yet as vulnerable
as a child. So easy to hurt, so easy to bring down. Glorfindel still
wondered what had made Thranduil treat his youngest like this. Had the
king not realized what his constant rejection would do? Legolas
believed that he was not worthy of love and affection and yet he
yearned for it so desperately that each new rejection, each new insult
sliced open the scars his father’s coldness had left. And Legolas
believed those hateful words, believed them to be true since it was
identical to the treatment he had known at home. If he ever met him,
Glorfindel swore he would make Thranduil suffer for the pain he had
caused Legolas. But right now he had more urgent things to deal
with...

When he again focused on Legolas, he found the youth’s eyes downcast,
his entire body radiating misery and shame after breaking down in
tears. “I am sorry, my lord,” Legolas said softly. “I should not have
reacted like this.”

“No, little one, I should have thought to tell you before I braided
your hair. I am sorry for surprising you. Still, I think that you look
very beautiful like this. And I am certain that tonight, you will look
even more beautiful than Elladan,” Glorfindel said, trying to change
the topic. “It makes you look older, and more serious; people will be
afraid to offend you tonight.”

“You are jesting, my lord,” Legolas said, but his eyes showed his
happiness at the compliment. “But I cannot wear them; I lost that
right when I was exiled...”

“Ah, did we not already talk this over, cunn lend? I told you that
your father’s opinion will change one day. And did the blood in your
veins change the minute your father banished you? Have you been denied
the love of the trees of your homeland? Does your soul no longer
understand the songs of the wind and the leaves of Mirkwood? No, you
are still a prince of that realm and your father cannot change that.
He might think that he hates you now, but the trees will still sing
for you if you return.”

Legolas was silent. His eyes were unfocused as his thoughts were
filled with memories of his home, of the great wood and the valiant
soul of the land. Yes, Glorfindel was right... he still had their
love. That had not changed, nor would it ever. He sighed, calmer now
that he had remembered how it was to sing with the wind. “If it
pleases you, then I will wear these braids, but it does not change the
fact that this is not who I am.”

“Perhaps not right now, but this is who you will be one day.” After a
gentle kiss, Glorfindel made Legolas get up so that they could both
change into their robes. “And this evening is the first step on the
way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
pen lend = sweet one
cunn lend = sweet prince
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


17

When Glorfindel and Legolas entered the dining hall, they found that
the arrangement of tables for dinner was different this evening.
Usually, they took their meal in a more intimate setting in a smaller
room with one big table for the family and friends of the Lord of
Imladris and a few tables for other high-ranking members of the
household who decided to take their meals there. Today, to accomodate
all those who wished to celebrate the occasion, dinner would be served
in the more festive atmosphere of the formal dining hall. Two long
lines of tables swept down from the head table, which dominated the
hall. The head table was reserved for Elrond and his family, and the
three returned Noldor would be seated close to him for easy
conversation. The tables were decorated with flowers from the gardens;
bottles of wine and bowls filled with fruit were arranged at regular
intervals so that everybody could have easy access to them.

When Glorfindel and Legolas arrived, the hall was already full of
elves; they were standing at the sides of the hall and waiting for the
Lord of Imladris to arrive. The room was filled with voices excited
about the feast and the stories the three returned elves might have to
tell. Nobody took notice of Glorfindel and his companion, as by now
the inhabitants of the valley were well used to the sight of the young
Sinda. While he was still the object of speculative glances and
whispered insults, nobody had dared to be open with their opinion
since Elrond had begun chastising anyone who insulted Legolas. And now
that there was another event which demanded their attention, it seemed
that Legolas had been granted a respite from the curious and
all-too-often mocking eyes.

Legolas smiled up at Glorfindel, showing his relief when the seneschal
led him to their usual place close to Elrond. There they waited,
standing next to their seats until finally Elrond entered the room,
accompanied by Erestor, Elladan, and the three freed captives. When
the Lord of the house took his seat, everybody else sat as well, and
after a few words from Elrond, servants entered the room and placed a
vast assortment of dishes on the tables – all sorts of meat from
venison to rabbit, vegetables cooked, grilled or filled with other
delicacies, freshly baked breads made from wheat, rye or oats, and
plates upon which were piled various cheeses and cold meats. The cooks
had done their best to celebrate the return of the freed Noldor, and
so the tables now offered samples of the vast array of food that
Imladris' kitchen had to offer. This was indeed a feast, and while
everybody busied themselves with sampling as many of the proffered
delicacies as possible, speech was mostly reduced to requests for
plates or a refilling of wine.

Finally the hunger of the company was sated and conversation began
anew. Legolas discovered that for once he was not the center of
attention; for all his concern over the braids, it seemed to him that
perhaps only Elrond and Erestor realized which braids they were. As
those two were engaged in conversation with Ellonúr who had been given
a seat on Elrond’s side, Legolas let his eyes wander around the room,
watching all the other elves happily celebrating the event. It made
him a little sad to be part of it and yet not belong, since he was not
able to share in the happiness as it was his own father who had held
these elves captive. So he merely sipped from his wine while he
listened to the conversations around him, and when it was gone, even
dared to take Glorfindel’s goblet while the seneschal was telling an
anecdote to his neighbour.

Legolas was seldom allowed wine, and even then, it was always watered
down. Today, in celebration of the events, the wine Glorfindel had
chosen for them was a sweet one which tasted slightly of apples; it
was not watered down, and Legolas enjoyed the feeling of warmth that
it caused in his belly. He soon began to feel sleepy, and the voices
around him seemed to grow louder and it became harder to concentrate
on the conversation around him as they all seemed to blend into each
other. With a soft sigh Legolas finally leaned against Glorfindel’s
side, feeling the arm of the seneschal come around his shoulder to
hold him close while Glorfindel continued his conversation with his
neighbour.

It was a good feeling, Legolas decided, to have Glorfindel close and
to be surrounded by so many happy people who focused their attention
on something other than him. Smiling dreamily, he rubbed his cheek
against his lord’s shoulder, wondering what he might have planned for
that night. Ever since that one violent night Glorfindel had been very
gentle with him; not once had he disciplined Legolas or forced him to
submit. On the one hand it pleased Legolas to be treated with such
tenderness, to not have to fear pain, but on the other hand Glorfindel
had made it very obvious to him that his pain and submission aroused
him... So what did it mean that the lord restrained himself like this?
Legolas knew that their gentle couplings could not possibly bring
Glorfindel the satisfaction that he wanted, and he wondered just why
Glorfindel denied himself the domination he must crave. And what would
happen if this continued? Would his lord finally grow bored and decide
to look for another?

It made him feel a little uneasy. Things which made him happy never
lasted; Legolas had learned that lesson well. Surely matters could not
stay like this, and something would soon happen - something that would
change Glorfindel's behavior. Still, he decided, he would not mind
that much if Glorfindel returned to his former self, if only he would
not get angry with him again. After all, it would be better than
losing Glorfindel’s attention to other things... or other elves.

Legolas shuddered. No, he did not know what he would do if Glorfindel
grew bored with him. But he did not know what he could do to keep
Glorfindel’s attention either. The last weeks had always followed the
same routine, and even Legolas himself had begun to feel slightly
unsatisfied. Not that he craved the pain Glorfindel sometimes chose to
inflict on him, but at the same time... somehow Glorfindel had always
found a way to make Legolas enjoy it. Somehow, every time he had been
forced to submit, he had been rewarded with pleasure and the feeling
of being safe and cherished. And now that Glorfindel seemed almost
remote, Legolas found himself almost wishing for those days of their
relationship – then, at least, he had known that Glorfindel desired
him.

His musings were finally interrupted by Elrond who stood up to lead
them to the Hall of Fire. More wine was waiting for them there as well
as scattered comfortable seating so small groups could gather to talk
or listen to the musicians. With determined steps Glorfindel made his
way over to a window where he sat down on the cushioned window-seat,
pulling Legolas down to cuddle at his side.

The elf Glorfindel had been seated next to at dinner had followed them
to continue her discussion with Glorfindel, and after a moment,
Thalaron joined them as well. From their conversation Legolas gathered
that she seemed to be the one the captain was currently courting –
rather successfully, Legolas gathered from her pleased smiles. Her
name was Celairael and she was in charge of the correspondence with
the libraries of other realms. Apparently, she had just managed to
acquire several valuable scrolls which Elrond had wanted for quite
some time, and was now even regarded as an aspirant for a future
position at Elrond’s council. In addition to these merits there were
certain other assets which Legolas was certain had drawn Thalaron’s
attention in the first place. The plunging neckline of her robe
revealed a rather tempting décolleté, and together with her hip-length
russet hair with its small, decorative braids, it was obvious why
Thalaron was attracted to her.

Legolas decided that he liked her. Apart from a greeting, she had not
tried to engage him in conversation, and – most importantly – she had
neither insulted him nor shown him any loathing. Nevertheless he kept
quiet. He was well aware that nobody in this room was interested in
him and his thoughts; he was only an appendage to Glorfindel – pretty,
even amusing as a sign of their enemies’ fall, but not someone to talk
to. So he only moved a little closer to Glorfindel, smiling when the
arm around his shoulder tightened. He let his gaze wander through the
room, watching the groups of talking elves from the safety of
Glorfindel’s side.

Then, suddenly, he felt eyes coming to rest on him, felt the familiar
weight of a scrutinizing gaze run up and down his body. Legolas
shivered and turned, trying to discover who was watching him so
closely.

He had half expected to find either Erestor or Elladan giving him
their usual look of cold derision, but the eyes that he found fixed on
him belonged to none other than the returned advisor, Ellonúr, who now
gave him an satisfied smile. “So you are Legolas Thranduilion?” he
said loudly enough to make heads turn to him. “I have heard a great
many things about you.”


18

Legolas flinched, the heat from the wine fleeing his cheeks as he felt
the attention of the room come to rest on him. Glorfindel was abruptly
pulled from his discussion and he turned to face the advisor, his arm
never leaving its position around Legolas' shoulders. The youth did
not quite know what he should say or do now, as he had no idea as to
what the former captive wanted from him. There was no open derision or
hate on his face, yet nevertheless Legolas was sure that the advisor
did not mean him well.

Overall, he did not look very threatening - unlike most of the
warriors he knew, Ellonúr was rather slight, both smaller and more
slender than Glorfindel. While the braids he wore were those of a
warrior, keeping the hair out of his eyes and from interfering in a
fight, they were also decorated with fine jewelry as was befitting his
position. The festive robes he wore hid most of his body, yet there
was a certain tensed grace to his every movement which Legolas had so
far only seen in experienced warriors like Glorfindel. Yes, this elf
was dangerous... Legolas had no doubt that no matter what the
situation, Ellonúr would always be prepared to draw weapon, here in
the Hall of Fire as well as outside while on patrol.

Yes, I am Legolas," he heard himself answer - perhaps in a voice that
was too soft, but at least it did not shake and betray the fear the
advisor's question had caused him. He returned the gaze of the Noldo
with pretended calmness, although his fingers were cramped around the
hem of Glorfindel's wide sleeve.

Ellonúr continued to smile, but his expression became slightly
derisive as he came closer, looking Legolas up and down. "I can tell
you, your father was not very happy when the news reached him that you
ran away to Imladris." Curiously, the advisor studied Legolas and took
in the way he clung to Glorfindel's side. "I got to know your father
quite well during my time in Mirkwood, but you are nothing like him...
I have to say that even though your father's men tried hard to break
me, I could never quite stop feeling some admiration for your father.
After all, despite the disagreements between our realms, he has long
remained a wise and steadfast ruler to your people…" His voice trailed
off and he seemed to become lost in a memory of something, but Legolas
was far too distracted by the mention of his father to notice
anything. He tried desperately to keep from showing the hurt these
words had caused, but when Ellonúr's smile grew brighter, he knew that
it had been in vain. Then Glorfindel got up from their seat and
stepped in front of Legolas, using his body to shield him from view.

"We are all glad that you have returned to us, Ellonúr," he said
gently, but his eyes darkened as he observed the advisor's smile.
"While I am certain that you have more than enough reason to hate the
Sindar after what has been done to you, I do hope that you realize
that none of this has been Legolas' fault. He is mine... and I think
that you have learned to respect my property."

The advisor was still smiling, although his expression now changed -
the derision he had greeted Legolas with became a warm, almost
intimate smile as he took yet another step and raised a hand to rest
it on Glorfindel's shoulder. "Mellon nín," he said, speaking so
softly that only Glorfindel and Legolas could understand him. "I have
suffered greatly, yet all I have been able to think about since I was
freed is the time I spent with you and the feel of the cane in your
hand... do not tell me that this shaking child here satisfies all of
your needs. I know your tastes just as you know mine. Please my lord,
I beg you, allow me to offer my body to you. I find myself yearning
for something to burn away the memory of my captivity. Will you not
help me?"

Slowly, Glorfindel shook his head, his eyes filled with compassion as
he rested one hand against Ellonúr's cheek in a fleeting caress.
"Surely there are others you can go to... you always loved to play,
and you were never satisfied with just one. I know that you have never
been without partners before, so there must be others who will have
you."

"Is this a no?" Ellonúr asked. There was a growing distress in his
voice when he realized his proposition was being rejected. "You have
never denied me before! Can you not see what has happened to me? Do
you not know what it is that I need?"

"I know what you think you need, but I cannot give it to you anymore!"
Glorfindel took a step back and shook his head. "I am not the right
person for this... it would not be a good thing for either of us."

Ellonúr snorted, then watched with jealous eyes when Glorfindel pulled
Legolas against his side, holding him close in a clear demonstration
of where his affections now rested. The young prince was confused and
embarrassed at being pulled into the center of attention once more,
but at the same time he felt the anger build within him. He did not
know what was happening here, neither who Ellonúr was nor what he was
talking about, but it seemed that at one time, this beautiful Noldor
had been Glorfindel's lover. Legolas did not know what kind of history
connected them, and it did not matter anymore, as Glorfindel was his.
He glared at the advisor when he felt those arrogant eyes come to rest
on him yet again and was rewarded with soft laughter.

"Oh, little prince, are you afraid of losing your position as a
pampered pet? Do not look at me like that, you should know by now what
it is you need to do to keep Glorfindel happy... and you had better
try hard to keep him happy because your father has said that he will
never allow you to return to Mirkwood after your dirty lusts brought
such shame to his house."

It took a moment for Legolas to fully realized what the advisor had
just said.... but then his memories took hold of him. He still
remembered what it had been like to be forced to tell his father; he
still felt pain and utter humiliation at having been slapped and
called "whore" by his own father, in front of his counselors, when he
was exiled. It had not been true what his father had said then - he
had had no choice when Glorfindel first took him by force that summer
day over a year earlier! Even though his father still believed the
worst about him, it wasn't true! His father knew nothing about what
really happened, and neither did this advisor. It was frustrating and
it made him livid.

"Take that back!" Legolas yelled and jumped forward, pushing so hard
against Ellonúr's body that the advisor stumbled a few steps backward
before he could catch himself. "You have no right to say such things!"
The youth blinked furiously but could not keep the tears back. They
ran down his cheeks, hot and wet and shameful in front of all the
gathered Noldor. It only made him hate this elf more - he had hurt
him, humiliated him and even worse, he was threatening to take away
the only one here who cared for him. If Glorfindel decided to take
Ellonúr's offer, then where did that leave Legolas? "I am not
dirty..." he whispered in a choked voice.

"Yes, you will take that back," Glorfindel said darkly as he pulled
Legolas back against his body to calm him. He grasped the front of
Ellonúr's robe with his other hand. "And you will apologize - this is
a Prince of Mirkwood you are talking to. You will show him respect, or
I will be forced to teach it to you!"

It was easy to see how amusement was replaced by confusion on
Ellonúr's face when he realized how different the situation was from
what he had expected. For a long moment he held Glorfindel's gaze, but
finally he gave in when he realized that something had changed about
the seneschal he had known. "Very well," he said, his voice suddenly
cold, "I apologize. I was not aware of the situation here. I will make
certain to reacquaint myself with the changes in this household before
I approach you again." He freed himself from Glorfindel's hand and
turned away, pushing through the curious group that had gathered
around them, and moved to the other side of the room where Elrond and
Erestor were talking to the musicians.

Glorfindel sighed and shook his head, then frowned when he realized
that Legolas was still pressed against him as if he were unable to
stand on his own. "You could have handled that better!" he chastised,
"there was no need to yell, and even less of a need to attack the
guest of honor, even if he did insult you!" Legolas sniffled and shook
his head, then turned to hide his face from view against Glorfindel's
chest.

"He deserved it! He enjoyed hurting me..." His voice was muffled by
the robe, and Glorfindel frowned again. He pushed Legolas away so he
could look at him, then sighed when he finally realized why the youth
had been so easy to provoke. "You are drunk, Legolas!" he said
sharply. "Do not deny it, I can see it in your eyes! I allowed you one
drink, yet I can see that you have had more, even though you knew that
this was an important event!"

"Why should I care?" Legolas retorted and tried to pull away from the
golden-haired elf. "No matter what I do, it does not change what they
think of me! Leave me alone then, I will go back, and you can go and
talk with Ellonúr - I am sure he will not embarrass you like I do!"
There were still tears running down his cheeks although his eyes were
dark with helpless anger - at Glorfindel, at Ellonúr and most of all
at himself. Again he tried to free himself, but Glorfindel had had
enough and pulled him back with a growl.

"I am tired of this!" the seneschal declared angrily and then pushed
Legolas forward, in direction of the door. "I will not have you
embarrass us both! You are not fit for company and will return to our
room. And I hope that you will be able to give me a good explanation
for all of this, or else I will find a way to make you regret your
behaviour!"


19

Glorfindel was still angry when he closed the door to the hallway, and
once he had pulled Legolas through the sitting room into their
bedroom, he pushed the youth towards the bed. For a moment, he glared
at Legolas, then began pacing. "Let me see... you got drunk although
you knew that this was an important event. You lost control over
yourself in front of all the important members of this household,
shouting at the guest of honor. Even worse, you have embarrassed me in
front of my lord and the guests! You are my responsibility, and your
actions this evening have made it very apparent to everybody that I am
not capable of controlling you. So many offenses, Legolas - can you
tell me what it is that I am supposed to do with you?"

Legolas glared back at him, rubbing furiously at his eyes to get rid
of the humiliating tears. "Why is this my fault? He insulted me! He
had no right to say those things to me! And then he, he.... asked you
those questions! As if I didn't even exist! But I will not stay silent
when I am insulted!"

"Stop!" Glorfindel interrupted furiously. "What are you, a little
child? It is not your fault because he was the one who started it? No,
be silent, Legolas! You are old enough to know that you cannot counter
one insult with another! I told Ellonúr that he was wrong  to address
you so, and the situation would have ended peacefully had you remained
calm."

"You cannot expect me to just quietly suffer their insults!" Legolas
said and jumped up, only to be pushed down back onto the bed by a
glowering Glorfindel.

"Stop acting like a child, Legolas! I took you to the feast, I put
those braids in your hair, I defended you from Ellonúr! Tell me, when
did I give you the impression that I wanted a silent, meek little pet
at my side? No, you had my support, my protection, but all you managed
to do is to feel sorry for yourself! You disappointed me this evening
Legolas- truly, I had high expectations for you, but you ruined it."
Still glaring at Legolas, Glorfindel grabbed a fistful of his hair and
angrily yanked him up by it. "Tell me, what should I do with you? Oh,
I want to..." For a moment, Glorfindel's fingers tightened their grip
in the hair while he closed his eyes, trembling with tension. Then he
suddenly pushed Legolas down and took a few steps back, his hands
again clenching into trembling fists while he turned his gaze away
from the youth. It took a visible effort for him to contain himself,
but despite his anger he held himself back, shaking with sheer
frustration.

Legolas laid sprawled on the bed, staring up at Glorfindel. Confusion,
fear and indignation warred on his face until he finally sat up,
frowning as he studied the golden-haired lord. This was the closest
Glorfindel had come to losing control in several weeks; ever since he
had taken him in anger that one night, Glorfindel had somehow reined
in his temper. Legolas was well aware that the past weeks had been
frustrating for Glorfindel; there were certain things the elf lord
craved that he had denied himself.

But now the situation had changed... Ellonúr's offer had been very
obvious, and by accepting it, Glorfindel could have what he wanted.
And what would happen if he did? What place would Legolas have then -
either here in Imladris or in Glorfindel's heart? To passively do
nothing was to risk all that he had. If he did not want to lose
Glorfindel to Ellonúr, he would have to give his lord what he
needed... even if that meant submitting to whatever humiliation
Glorfindel might choose as punishment.

"You should punish me."

Glorfindel whipped his head around to stare at him, and for a moment
Legolas himself was surprised to hear this sentence come from his
lips. Nevertheless, it was the truth - it was what Glorfindel needed
and had missed for so long, and deep in his heart Legolas knew that
Glorfindel needed an outlet for his ever-growing frustration. If it
meant that Glorfindel would hurt him, then he would have to bear the
pain - it could not be worse than losing Glorfindel's regard. "Yes..."
the young prince repeated softly, sitting up on the bed, "yes, you
should, my Lord. You are right, I deserve it..."

Glorfindel took a step towards him, disbelief warring with anger on
his face. "Do you realize what you are asking? I am very displeased
with you, Legolas..." Glorfindel warned in a quiet voice.

Legolas nodded, afraid to speak, but he held Glorfindel's gaze for a
long moment. The Noldo's face was pale, although his eyes burned
bright with anger. Suddenly, Legolas felt apprehensive. Glorfindel had
restrained himself for so long - what had made him think that the
warrior would give into his needs now?

But the events in the Hall of Fire had kindled Glorfindel's anger to
bright fire, and roused the need within him to such a point that he
finally nodded, satisfied with what he had read in Legolas' eyes. "If
you are certain that you want this, then stand up," he commanded, and
sat down on the bed in Legolas' stead. "Undress, and kneel before me."

Legolas briefly hesitated, and then proceeded to strip hastily as if
to make up for the delay. When he was naked he sank to his knees in
front of his lord, looking up for further instructions. He tried his
best to hide the fear he could not quite suppress, but Glorfindel gave
him a knowing look and raised a hand to run it through Legolas' hair.

"I will hurt you, but I promise that I will not harm you," Glorfindel
said softly, and then withdrew his hand. He watched Legolas through
half-lidded eyes until the youth started to tremble, and then gifted
him with a dark, threatening smile. "So... what shall I do with you
now?"

"Anything you wish, my Lord," Legolas whispered and lowered his eyes.

"That is the kind of attitude I would have liked to have seen this
evening!" Glorfindel said and shook his head. "But instead you chose
to behave like a spoiled little child! I have told you this before -
as long as you behave like a child, I will punish you like one. Now
bring me my brush, the golden one, it is on top of that black chest
there. And you will stay on your knees while you get it..."

Glorfindel smirked when Legolas blushed. Nevertheless, the youth
crawled towards the chest as commanded, but when he reached for the
brush, Glorfindel interrupted him again.

"Did I allow you to use your hands? Use your mouth, roch-neth... it is
such a lovely mouth, and you do too much talking anyway!"

Legolas' cheeks reddened even more and for the first time since he had
offered himself up for punishment, Glorfindel detected a glimmer of
rebellion in his eyes. Still Legolas returned to him, crawling on
hands and knees with the brush between his lips. It was a lovely
picture, and Glorfindel found himself enjoying it far more than he
would have imagined. He spread his legs a little to accomodate his
growing hardness, then examined the kneeling youth in front of him.
The slender, pale body so pleasing to behold, shivering lightly with
fear, or perhaps it was excitement...

Glorfindel noted Legolas' growing arousal with some amusement, but did
not comment on it; Legolas' embarrassment was already very obvious.
"Very good, hên lend. You are very appealing like this!" He took the
brush from Legolas' mouth, caressing the moist lower lip with a quick
swipe of his thumb. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you now? I'm
going to spank you with this brush, roch-neth, and I won't stop until
your pretty little behind is all sore and red. Perhaps that will help
you to remember to think before you speak the next time! But first,"
Glorfindel smirked, "I want to hear you beg to be punished!"

Legolas stiffened, then sighed when he remembered just what had led
him to this state. "Please, my Lord," he said softly, "I deserve
this... please punish me." He looked up to see the response to his
begging but Glorfindel was frowning and shaking his head. So Legolas
tried again, tentatively resting his cheek on Glorfindel's thigh.
"Please," he whispered, "please, do not hold back... I deserve your
anger. I have displeased you, my Lord - punish me in the way that I
deserve, and teach me how to please you better!"

"This is a good beginning, pen-neth... yes, for now it will suffice.
There will be other opportunities to teach you how to beg...."
Glorfindel threatened and then pulled Legolas up to sprawl over his
lap. "You can cry all you want, but I will not stop until I think that
you have had enough!" he warned and then gathered Legolas' wrists in
one hand to press them into the bed over his head. "You will leave
your hands here - move them and I will bind them!"

Legolas nodded helplessly. He had no other choice but to simply accept
what Glorfindel did to him... he could not even rise as the Noldo's
hand now let go of his wrists and instead came to rest on his back,
holding him in place.

And then the brush connected with his backside for the first time.
Legolas yelped; he could not help himself. It stung, worse than when
Glorfindel used his hand... but it was not as bad as the day when the
Noldo had used his belt. Nevertheless it left behind a feeling of
heat, smarting and throbbing and painful until the brush came down
again and another jolt of hot, stinging pain made him twitch. He
remembered that Glorfindel had told him not to move his hands, so by
sheer force of will he kept them still while the rest of his body
jerked and writhed under the stinging slaps.

There was no escape; the brush came down again and again with enough
force to bruise - at least that was what it felt like to Legolas. It
soon felt as if his entire bottom had to be glowing red, but still
Glorfindel did not stop, not even when Legolas began to sob softly. No
matter how much he writhed and tried to turn, the brush always came
down again on the by now tender skin. It hurt even more now; the
entire area was so sensitive that the slaps were far worse than in the
beginning. And still Glorfindel did not stop, although Legolas was
begging now and crying out with each slap. When Legolas finally ceased
to resist and lay still, accepting the pain from which he could not
escape while crying softly into his arms, only then did Glorfindel
cease.

For a long moment, the only sound that could be heard was Legolas'
helpless sobbing, while Glorfindel laid the brush aside and then began
to stroke his hair. Legolas was still hard - the spanking had not
diminished his arousal, and he could feel Glorfindel's answering
erection against his thigh. It was all too much - the pain, the heat
from his abused skin and the dark excitement that was still there.
Legolas whimpered, humiliated. Why did his body betray him so? And why
was he still aroused?

"Do not cry, roch-neth..." Glorfindel soothed and pulled Legolas into
his arms. The youth buried his head beneath Glorfindel's chin,
pressing himself tightly against the body of the Noldo. "You have been
very good! You kept your arms where I told you -I did not have to
correct you even once! You pleased me, pen-neth..."

Legolas continued to sob against Glorfindel's shoulder, but after some
minutes had passed, Glorfindel began to gently stroke his backside.
His fingertips ghosted over the hot skin, and although the sensation
was painful, it was also very intense. Legolas moaned softly. It hurt,
despite the lightness of the touch, but at the same time his skin was
so sensitive now that not only the pain but also the pleasure
increased...

Glorfindel smiled as if he knew what Legolas was experiencing and then
used a fingernail to lightly scratch over the hot skin. "Have you had
enough, roch-neth? Or is there something else that you want?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
hên lend - sweet child
roch-neth - colt
pen-neth - young one
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


20

Legolas whimpered. It hurt, even the light scratches made his sore
skin burn... but at the same time, the intense sensation also made him
moan softly. For a long moment he stayed motionless in Glorfindel’s
embrace, shuddering and gasping against his throat while he felt the
nails tease his skin. Finally he let go of Glorfindel’s robe and
looked up into his eyes which had become dark with lust. But it was
not just lust that he could read in his lord’s gaze, no... there was
also amusement and a warmth that almost made him forget about the
pain. Despite his tears he shyly smiled up at the Noldo as he slid
from his lap, sinking to his knees to kneel before him.

“I want to please you... would this please you, my lord?” he asked
softly, and although his voice trembled he did not hesitate to press a
gentle kiss to where Glorfindel’s hardness fought against its
confines.

“Oh yes,“ Glorfindel groaned, “yes, that would please me very much
indeed… go ahead, roch-neth!”

Carefully, Legolas parted Glorfindel's robe until he uncovered the
leggings the lord wore beneath. There was a noticable bulge in their
front, and a damp spot which told Legolas that the warrior had indeed
enjoyed disciplining him. When Legolas finally freed Glorfindel’s
erection, he found it hard and red, the tip already moist with
droplets of clear fluid that kept leaking from the slit.

When Legolas gathered those drops with his tongue, Glorfindel groaned
and threw his head back. Legolas smiled at seeing the lord so
abandoned to his pleasure... it was not often that Legolas could watch
Glorfindel like this. Again he licked over the tip, paying special
attention to the small opening from which more of the bitter fluid
leaked, as each touch there made Glorfindel groan and shudder. The
lord allowed him to take his time and tease him, but finally
Glorfindel seemed to have had enough and rested a hand on his head. He
did not force him to take his entire length into his mouth, but
Legolas understood the unspoken command and moved to worship the
entirety of the hard shaft with his mouth. He gave long, slow licks up
and down the swollen length, then finally took the tip into his mouth
to suckle on it while his hands stroked the root of the shaft.

Glorfindel moaned with appreciation; he slowly let himself sink back
on the bed but still kept his hand in Legolas’ hair. Gently he pulled
at a strand – there was not enough force behind it to hurt, but
Legolas realized that he should not tease Glorfindel much longer. So
he took a deep breath and then took more of Glorfindel into his mouth,
concentrating on breathing through his nose and not accidentally
hurting Glorfindel with his teeth. It seemed to work, as the Noldo was
now making soft moans of pleasure and had let go of the strand,
petting him instead to show his approval.

Legolas kept his eyes open, looking up to catch glimpses of
Glorfindel’s face to drink in the vision of the golden lord lost in
his pleasure, reduced to moans and sighs as his head moved restlessly
on the coverlet. Legolas realized in that moment that he had never
before seen anything as beautiful as this – and there could not exist
anything more beautiful on all of Arda, he was sure. Glorfindel was
hot and powerful in his mouth, and Legolas wanted to worship him until
he spilled himself down his throat - wanted to swallow his essence and
show his adoration - but then Glorfindel opened his eyes again and
smiled at him.

“Enough, roch-neth,” he sighed, and gently pushed Legolas away so that
the youth had to let his erection slip from his mouth. “Enough, I do
not want to spill myself in your mouth... Undress me, and then I will
use you the way the Valar intended you to be used.”

Leglas almost moaned aloud, both from the image the Noldo’s words
created and also from disappointment at being hindered from tasting
the lord’s essence. That disappointment did not last very long,
though, as he realized what Glorfindel had just ordered him to do...

Disrobing Glorfindel was always like unwrapping a present, Legolas
thought. He reverently stripped the lord of his robes and leggings,
stopping now and then to press small kisses of worship onto the newly
bared, powerful body. Glorfindel was indeed beautiful, the epitome of
a warrior, and Legolas could almost imagine what he must have looked
like when he faced the Balrog, clad in his armor with the symbol of
his House gleaming in the fiery light.

He must have been the most beautiful and most adored warrior of
Gondolin, Legolas thought hazily, and for a moment the prospect of
being the one such a valiant lord desired seemed to be impossible...
and then Glorfindel pulled him up and back onto the bed to lay on top
of his now-nude body and kissed him deeply. Legolas moaned and tried
to move even closer into the Noldo’s embrace, forgetting all about
Gondolin and warriors. What mattered was only that he pleased
Glorfindel, that he did whatever the lord wanted him to do, so that
Glorfindel would caress him and kiss him and hold him close...

“Ai, roch-neth, roch-neth nín...” Glorfindel moaned between his
passionate kisses. “I want you... I want to take you so hard that you
will cry my name! I will make you cry, little one, I will make you
shed tears, so hard will I take you, and you won’t be able to do
anything but surrender to me and my lust, because you are mine!”

Legolas shuddered and moaned; Glorfindel could feel Legolas’ length
twitch against his thigh. The Noldo grinned and then suddenly rolled
over so that he had the youth pinned beneath him. “Spread your legs,”
he growled into his ear. “I want to take you now!”

Legolas obeyed, trembling a little when he felt Glorfindel’s hardness
brush against his own. Then the Noldo’s hot length slid against his
cleft, and before Legolas could even try to relax for what was to
come, Glorfindel had already pushed forward and buried himself to the
hilt with one violent thrust.

Legolas cried out in pain and gripped Glorfindel’s arms; he trembled
and sobbed at the burning sensation of being stretched so suddenly.
But Glorfindel’s only answer was a soft, breathless laugh before he
began to use him as hard as he had promised.

Legolas closed his eyes and gave himself up to whatever Glorfindel
wanted to do with him. He wrapped his legs around the Noldo’s waist to
allow him to thrust deeper; his hands clutched at Glorfindel’s
shoulders. Every sensation was shadowed by the pain of his aching
body, but at the same time now it was almost as if he could feel it
everywhere whenever Glorfindel’s length hit that spot within him.

The hot burning of his still hurting backside as well as the almost
unbearable friction of Glorfindel’s hard shaft inside him changed to
another feeling altogether, until nothing else seemed to exist in the
world but Glorfindel. His strong body, his unique scent of alluring
musk and sun-warmed glades, the sound of his groans... Legolas lost
himself in it. Glorfindel’s golden hair fell down around him like a
curtain that kept them apart from the rest of the world. For a long
time Glorfindel continued to take what was his, while Legolas lay
trembling and helpless beneath him while the sensations built, until
finally he was overwhelmed.

He cried out Glorfindel’s name while he shuddered and came, and the
Noldo stopped briefly to wait until Legolas had calmed again. Then he
began moving once more, taking Legolas with violent thrusts while the
youth lay helplessly beneath him. Legolas whimpered each time he was
filled – he was no longer aroused, but instead of the lust there was
now a new feeling that made him arch up and cling to Glorfindel. His
body seemed to float with the knowledge that he belonged to
Glorfindel, that the Noldo owned him and that he took pleasure from
his body. It made Legolas nearly swoon to feel his lord’s passion for
him and he continued to bear his untamed lust without giving voice to
the discomfort he felt.

Glorfindel took his time, almost as if he wanted to assert his claim
over Legolas, but finally, he could hold back no longer. He bit hard
into Legolas' shoulder, leaving red marks, as he buried himself deep
inside the youth with one last hard thrust, finally reaching release.
“You are mine, cunneth, never forget that...” he groaned as he
collapsed on top of him.

Legolas wrapped his arms around Glorfindel’s neck and deeply breathed
in the scent of his hair. “Yes, my lord...” he sighed, and then they
were silent, listening to the sound of their heartbeats, their bodies
still joined.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
roch-neth - colt
roch-neth nín - my colt
cunneth - princeling
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~







21

Legolas was not sure what he had expected their life to be like after
that night, but he had not expected it to be like this. He was
enjoying himself, and he actually looked forward to spending his time
with Glorfindel – except for the lessons, of course, as those were
almost as boring as before. Although there was one thing that had
changed about them... Now that Glorfindel was no longer afraid to
punish him, Legolas had quickly learned to concentrate on whatever
task Glorfindel set him. On the few occasions when he let his
attention slip away to dream about other things, he later had to pay
when his bottom turned red under Glorfindel’s hands – although this
punishment would also inevitably end with pleasure for both of them
when they abandoned the study for their bed. After this happened a few
times, Legolas took care to always pay attention, and Glorfindel
changed his lessons to make them more interesting for Legolas.

As Glorfindel’s idea of interesting also encompassed certain Quenyan
phrases which made Legolas blush, their hours of studying often ended
in their bedroom – or on whatever flat surface was closest. It pleased
Glorfindel to make Legolas wait for his release until he begged for it
in grammatically correct Quenya, and so Legolas’ vocabulary was
enriched by phrases and words which he was sure he would never read in
the Quenyan manuscripts in Elrond’s library.

But they did not spend all of their time over old books and
manuscripts. In the afternoons, they would often go for a ride, or
play with their son in the garden. Gîlríon had by now learned to stand
and walk, and it was one of his favourite games to run through the
gardens or the wood with his parents chasing behind him, trying to
catch him before he could hurt himself.

But Gîlríon had also made progress in other areas. Several weeks ago,
he had uttered his first word, and Legolas, whose biggest fear it had
been to be labelled nana by his son, was relieved to be called ada.
Often Glorfindel had jokingly called the Sindarin prince a mother,
knowing all too well how it infuriated Legolas to be seen as a female,
and so Legolas had both wished for and at the same time dreaded their
son’s first words.

Nevertheless, it seemed as if Glorfindel had only teased Legolas with
the threat of being called a mother, while at the same time searching
for a way for their son to address them. And he seemed to have found a
solution he liked, for as soon as Glorfindel entered the room, Gîlríon
began to squirm in Legolas’ arms and called out for his atto. Legolas
was surprised, and immensely relieved. And while he watched Glorfindel
kissing and praising their little star, he realized that Glorfindel
must have secretly spent some time teaching their son that word.

“Atto?” Legolas asked with smile that was at once thankful and amused,
for Glorfindel had tormented him with the notion of being called nana
for quite some time.

Glorfindel smiled back, tickling Gîlríon until he was squirming and
giggling. “Yes... he cannot call both of us ada, that would be too
confusing for him. And why should he not call me by the same name I
used for my father when I was as old as our star is?”

Legolas smiled but kept silent as he watched Glorfindel, who was
obviously proud to see Gîlríon speak, and full of love for the
golden-haired child that had been given to them.

In this way, autumn passed almost too quickly as the days were filled
with lessons in lore and warfare for Legolas and the remaining time
was spent with their son, whose ever-growing energy and curiosity
managed to keep both of his parents busy.

One afternoon in late autumn found Legolas and Glorfindel outside in
the sun, with Gîlríon sleeping between them. Although it was probably
one of the last fair days of the year, there was still the scent of
flowers in the air. The protection of Vilya granted the valley green
grass and flowers from spring until the end of autumn, but it could –
or would – not protect them from the cold and ice of winter. Soon the
days would grow grey and rainy, and then the first snow would fall to
lull nature into a deep, well-earned sleep, until Arien’s warmth would
wake the valley again in spring.

But this one afternoon, it was still so warm in the sunshine that
several elves had taken off their tunics to let the rays of sunshine
warm their bare skin. Glorfindel and Legolas were sitting beneath an
apple tree that had been relieved of its heavy burden just days ago.
On the wide, grass-covered slope in front of them many of Imladris’
inhabitants were sitting, talking and eating as they enjoyed the
beautiful day. Even the Lord of the Valley had joined them; he sat
together with Ellonúr and several other Noldor in a half-circle around
a minstrel who had brought his lyre outside to entertain Elrond.

The sweet sounds of the song filled the valley, carrying over to where
Legolas and Glorfindel sat and watched their son sleeping peacefully
in the sunlight. Earlier he had wandered through the high grass,
following a small bird that kept hopping away until Glorfindel came to
rescue it from its pursuer. Now that they finally had a moment of
respite from their son’s unending curiosity, they were content to
silently sit next to each other, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine
while watching the group surrounding the minstrel.

Legolas’ gaze rested on Elrond. Earlier, he had been in an animated
conversation with Ellonúr; they had even heard him laugh out loud a
few times. It had been a long time since Legolas had last seen the
lord of the valley so relaxed; if he thought back, he had not seen
Elrond smile ever since the dreadful day of his falling out with his
seneschal.

Glorfindel sighed. His eyes had followed Legolas’ gaze to see Elrond
staring wistfully at where the three of them were resting under the
old apple tree. Before their quarrel, he would have joined them, but
now Elrond stayed with the other elves. Glorfindel knew that Elrond
felt lonely; he knew what it was like to be surrounded by people who
would only speak with the utmost reverence and politeness and never
disagree with something their lord said. That was one of the reasons
they had become friends so fast – both were glad to have found someone
they could be honest with even if this candor often led to
disagreements.

Glorfindel raised a hand to run it through Legolas’ hair, then rested
it on his cheek, gently stroking over the soft skin with his thumb.
“Would you mind if I went over to Elrond for a moment? Be careful that
Gîlríon does not escape you again; I do not think that he has given up
on that bird.”

“Of course, my lord,” Legolas said and watched Glorfindel with barely
veiled curiosity. Glorfindel sighed and shook his head, giving Legolas
a small smile.

“Do not fear; I do not plan to throttle or otherwise kill the Lord of
Imladris in front of all of his subjects – I just think that it is
time we should talk again. I have not yet forgiven him for breaking my
trust, but I do not think that we can just go on ignoring each other.”

Legolas smiled back at Glorfindel, barely able to hide how pleased he
was by this openness. This was probably another sign that Glorfindel
was beginning to dearly miss his friend and confidant for although he
had spoken freely to Legolas about many thing over the last several
weeks, Glorfindel never once broached the subject of the events of
that particular day. Secretly Legolas wondered if he still blamed
himself for what had occurred that night and tried to pretend that it
had never happened by not talking about what had set that event in
motion.

Legolas knew that he had not been entirely innocent that day and he
still felt guilty for not protesting immediately. But Glorfindel had
never asked him for a reason why he had not resisted Elrond, and so
Legolas preferred not to think about it at all.

Legolas wondered what would happen if Elrond and Glorfindel finally
resolved their problems. Perhaps then Glorfindel would once more
become interested in his role in that little drama. Legolas did not
look forward to the conversation they would have should Glorfindel
ever bring those events up again. Nevertheless he knew that things
between Elrond and Glorfindel could not continue the way they were
right now. After all, Glorfindel was the one responsible for Imladris’
defense – in the long run, the valley could only continue to flourish
if those two managed to somehow rebuild their friendship.

While Legolas was thinking about this, Gîlríon woke up, and his
interest was immediately captured by a huge, black bug that was
crawling up a long blade of grass. Gîlríon giggled when the bug spread
its wings to fly away to more promising places, and Legolas sighed. He
tried to interest his son in a large, hairy caterpillar that at least
would not tempt him to run after it. When Legolas looked up again, he
saw that Glorfindel had sat down next to Elrond while the group of
elves had respectfully moved a short distance away from them. From
what Legolas could see of them, their conversation seemed rather
awkward, with many unpleasant pauses, but at least they were talking
again.

Legolas was relieved. Although he still felt somewhat angry and
betrayed if he thought about what Elrond had done, he would find a way
to live with it. It was more important that the two lords were once
again on speaking terms. And perhaps, during the long, cold winter
that was waiting for them, the two Noldor would find a way to slowly
rebuild what had been so suddenly destroyed.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
atto – affectionate form of father [Quenya]
ada – affectionate form of father [Sindarin]
nana – affectionate form of mother [Sindarin]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


[If you wonder why Gîlríon is already able to talk and run, although he
is only half a year old: According to "Morgoth's Ring: Laws and Customs
of the Eldar" elvish children acquire these abilities rather quickly:

“The Eldar grew in bodily form slower than Men, but in mind more
swiftly. They learned to speak before they were one year old; and in
the same time they learned to walk and to dance, for their wills came
soon to the mastery of their bodies.” p 209

A mortal watching Elf children at play “…might indeed have wondered at
the small limbs and stature of these children, judging their age by
their skill in words and grace in motion. For at the end of the third
year mortal children began to outstrip the Elves, hastening on to a
full stature while the Elves lingered in the first spring of
childhood. Children of Men might reach their full height while Eldar
of the same age were still in body like to mortals of no more than
seven years. Not until the fiftieth year did the Eldar attain the
stature and shape in which their lives would afterwards endure, and in
some a hundred years would pass before they were full grown.” P 210]


22

Legolas was panting, his breath a white cloud hanging in the cold air.
Winter had finally arrived and the valley was covered with snow, yet
that did not stop Thalaron from driving his students even harder. Only
some weeks ago had Legolas finally been allowed to join the other
youth in their training fights, and although in the beginning he had
feared that they would use this opportunity to hurt or disgrace him,
it had gone amazingly well. Partly that was something he had to thank
Glorfindel for, as the seneschal was now often present on the training
ground. On the other hand, Thalaron usually punished any behaviour
that was meant to humiliate, either with even harder training, or else
with a duel against himself - one that inevitably ended with the
culprit lying defeated and aching on the ground.

Today once again Glorfindel arrived near the end of their training
session to watch Legolas' progress. While the young Sinda had again
lost to the Noldorin youth he was partnered with, his defensive moves
as well as the occasional attack showed how much he had profited from
Thalaron's teaching. Glorfindel clearly saw the influence of Thalaron
in Legolas' movements and gave the captain an acknowledging nod while
the youths gathered their equipment and then left the training field
together with the older warrior. Legolas was the only one to stay
behind, still sweaty and out of breath as he curiously looked at his
lord.

"That was good, pen neth, I can see that you are getting much better!"
Legolas smiled, then yelped in surprise when Glorfindel grabbed a
handful of his hair to pull him into a demanding kiss. "And now I am
hungry... for you, little one. Do you even know how delectable you
look when you are fighting? It is a pity Thalaron does not really see
your beauty, otherwise you could use it to your advantage in a fight!"
Glorfindel laughed when Legolas blushed, and then pulled him forward
until they reached a group of trees and bushes which would hide them
from view.

There Glorfindel pushed Legolas up against one of the trees so that
Legolas had to embrace the rough, frozen trunk with his arms. "So,
roch neth nín, what do you think I should do with you? We are alone
here... I could do anything I want with you, and nobody would notice!"

Legolas shuddered. "Please, my lord... what if Thalaron returns, or
one of the other youths? Please let me go, my lord..."

"Ah, but do not forget that I can feel you tremble, my pretty one -
are you excited, I wonder?" Glorfindel smiled when he realized that it
was arousal as much as fear that made Legolas' heart beat faster.
"Perhaps you would even like it if somebody were to see you like this,
surrendering to me..."

"No!" Legolas gasped, growing harder with every word that was
whispered into his ear. Glorfindel was now opening the lacing of his
leggings with barely suppressed impatience, tugging so hard that
Legolas was afraid that the cloth would give any moment and force him
to return to their rooms half naked.

Finally Glorfindel succeeded and pulled the leggings down with an
impatient growl, then opened his own ties so that his hard flesh
sprang free. He laughed when he forced Legolas' thighs apart with his
legs, excited by the thought of taking the prince like this. Legolas'
pale buttocks were bared to him, smooth and unblemished and far too
tempting... He gripped them, kneading the yielding flesh until Legolas
whimpered and then pulled them apart to reveal the tight, rosy
entrance. "Have you prepared yourself for me this morning?" Glorfindel
breathed into Legolas' ear. He rubbed himself against Legolas' cleft,
the slick tip already nudging the youth's opening.

Legolas shuddered and tightened his grip on the tree. "Yes, I have..."
he answered breathlessly and then moaned when Glorfindel's shaft
forced itself into him. Legolas was hard, and feeling Glorfindel's
thickness sliding into him, slowly and insistently taking possession
of him, was enough to make him forget any fears about being
discovered. He whimpered, helpless against the wave of ecstasy that
rushed through him when Glorfindel was fully sheathed, with the head
of his erection pressing against that place deep within him.

"Please!" Legolas begged, then whimpered again, louder this time, when
Glorfindel's hands holding his hips forced him to stay motionless.

"Be silent!" Glorfindel growled into his ear and punished him with a
light bite to the sensitive tip. "Or do you want someone to observe us
after all?"

Legolas shook his head and rested his cheek against the rough bark of
the tree, panting when Glorfindel pulled back and then pushed deep
into him again. The Noldo quickly build up a hard and fast rhythm,
groaning as he repeatedly drove himself in the youth's tightness,
while Legolas tried to stifle his moans against one of his arms.

With each of Glorfindel's forceful thrusts Legolas was pushed against
the tree so that his own hardness rubbed against the rough bark. It
was not very comfortable, but Legolas was so aroused that the painful
contact with the tree only increased the lust he felt.

It did not take long until they both came, Glorfindel spilling himself
with a deep groan inside Legolas' heated flesh, while the youth's
release dripped down the tree's frozen bark.

Glorfindel sighed in satisfaction. "Dress yourself," he finally said
when he had pulled out of Legolas and tied his leggings. "And you need
a bath... I can smell myself on you. It would not do to take you to
dinner like this."


Later that day, when it was time to join Elrond at his table,
Glorfindel had another surprise for Legolas. Thalaron was sitting next
to them, which made Legolas blush when he thought about what the
warrior might have seen only some hours ago. Ellonúr was there as
well, as was usual since his return from captivity. While he had been
acting rather cold towards them since Glorfindel's decision to not
resume their former relations, he had nevertheless refrained from
pursuing the seneschal's affections since the events that had
transpired in the Hall of Fire.

The only one who was missing was Elladan, who had joined a patrol to
search for orcs - something he was doing far more often than his
father liked, ever since his twin had left for Mirkwood. But Legolas
was glad of it - without Elladan, dinner at Elrond's table was almost
peaceful, as even those who still hated the young Sinda would never
show signs of it in Elrond's presence.

"Legolas," the Lord of the Last Homely House now addressed him, "a
rider arrived from Mirkwood today, bringing me messages from my son.
There is also a letter for you from your brother Celeirdúr."

Legolas immediately sat up taller and smiled brightly when the lord
handed him the letter. Glorfindel rested a hand on his shoulder, idly
playing with a strand of hair, and began to discuss training schedules
with Thalaron and Ellonúr. Legolas was strangely pleased by this
display of trust. After all it would be well within Glorfindel's
rights to take the letter from him and read it through first to see if
there was any dangerous content in his brother's writings.

Instead Glorfindel went on talking about which route and what escort
would be advisable for the next journey to Lórien, once the spring sun
melted the snow and ice that made such a journey inadvisable for all
but the most urgent messages. Usually the talk of journeys and patrols
fascinated Legolas, who had never left Mirkwood apart from the
desperate ride to Imladris. But that journey had not been for
pleasure; he had been so afraid at that time, weak with hunger and
grieved from suffering his father's condemnation, that he could
remember little of the lands he had crossed during that long journey.

At that moment, however, the lure of hearing from his brother was far
stronger than his curiosity about other realms, and so he did not
listen to Glorfindel's planning. Instead he hurriedly read through the
lines Celeirdúr had penned, only to sigh softly when he arrived at his
brother's signature. Again he read through it, this time more slowly,
savoring the news his brother brought and soaking up the words that
spoke of the affection his brother still felt for him. However, there
was no mention of their father, and Legolas knew that Thranduil still
had not forgiven him - and probably never would.

Legolas sighed again and resolved not to brood about it anymore.
Instead he tried to be happy about Celeirdúr's questions about his
young nephew, and dreamed of a time when his older brother might
actually hold Gîlríon in his arms.

"Good news, Legolas?" Elrond asked with a tentative smile. Although
his friendship with his seneschal was slowly mending, they were still
not as close as they had once been. And so until now, Elrond had kept
his distance from Legolas, to avoid putting further strain on the
trust he was working to regain.

"Yes, my lord," Legolas answered politely. "My brother is well..."

"That is good, then," Elrond said with a sigh. No doubt he was
thinking of his own son, now living far away at Thranduil's court in
Mirkwood as a hostage to ensure the peace. Legolas knew that Elrond
deeply regretted the necessity of this arrangement. The Peredhel had
told Glorfindel that he not only missed his son, but that he was also
concerned about the other twin. It was becoming more and more obvious
that Elrohir's absence was affecting Elladan, who grew more unsettled
with every passing day. "

"At my request, Elrohir has sent me some scrolls he has copied, notes
of healers who have dealt with male fertility before. He said that
your brother helped him to obtain them, as all records of this nature
are kept hidden by your father's orders. That was truly very helpful,
Legolas; I hope to find some information which will make it easier for
you should you bear another child. Perhaps I will even find some way
to prevent you from getting pregnant again too soon... if Glorfindel
wishes this, of course."

Legolas blushed. He was not comfortable to have his fertility talked
about at the table, but he was grateful that his brother had gone
against his father's orders to help him. After Celeirdúr had been
captured and brought to Imladris, Legolas had feared for a while that
his oldest brother would never be able to forgive him. However, it now
seemed that although Elladan's torture of him had brought his hatred
for the Noldor to new heights, Celeirdúr had at least been partly able
to overcome his loathing if he had cooperated with Elrohir.

"That is indeed good news, Elrond," Glorfindel interjected. "I do not
want Legolas to go through another pregnancy again so soon, so it
would be best to wait another year or two. I do not want to risk
harming him, though I would love more children. Gîl should not grow up
alone."

Legolas sighed, and Glorfindel could feel that the young Sinda did not
share his enthusiasm. Still, Legolas loved their son more than
anything, and Glorfindel was certain that he would love another child
just as much, should the time come. Nevertheless, that time had not
yet arrived, and in the meantime Glorfindel knew something which would
restore his spirits...

"We have decided, Elrond... There will be twenty of us, which should
be more than enough should we encounter orcs on our way. I want to
take five of the younger guards so that they will get some experience,
and the rest will be my most trusted warriors, to ensure your
daughter's safety."

Elrond nodded. "We can talk about the route you have planned in more
detail tomorrow, but you know that I trust in your abilities to
protect Arwen. Nevertheless, the journey to Lórien is not short, and
even if you wait until all the snow has melted you might yet still
encounter late storms. Take more warriors with you, Glorfindel, even
if it will slow your speed - the younger and inexperienced members of
your party will be especially grateful for that, and you yourself
might enjoy it as well to have some time for yourself. Also, I want
you to take Ellonúr with you - he desires the counsel of the Lady of
the Golden Wood, and his sword will be a valuable asset."

Legolas looked at Glorfindel who did not seem very happy about that
addition to his plans, but refrained from commenting on it as Ellonúr
was sitting just across the table. And Legolas was not happy either -
on the contrary, right now his emotions wavered between being angry,
feeling betrayed and the very simple fear of being left alone in the
realm of his enemies. Why did Glorfindel have to do this to him, and
to their son? If he left for a journey to Lórien and back, it might be
months before he returned...

"What do you say, Legolas?" Glorfindel inquired. "Would you like to
see the Golden Wood, and sleep under a sky of mellyrn leaves?"

Legolas stared at him in shock. "You want to take me with you?" he
breathed while a smile spread over his face at the thought of seeing
that fabled realm. But then another realization came. "What about
Gîlríon? I cannot leave him alone for so long..."

"You can take him with you," Elrond stated calmly. "He will be old
enough for such a journey, and you will travel slowly under heavy
guard. It was Glorfindel's idea, and I think that he is right... You
will enjoy the Golden Wood, and you might like to see your brother
Galuron again, who will then have the chance to meet his nephew."

Legolas looked questioningly at Glorfindel, who nodded with a smile,
then laughed out loud when Legolas threw his arms around his neck. "Of
course I would like that, my lord! Thank you!"

"Then work hard, little one, so that we can give you a sword of metal
and not of wood for the journey!" Glorfindel said and pressed an
affectionate kiss to the brow of the youth.

"I promise, my lord, I will do my best!" Legolas answered, already
dreaming about the realm he had so far only visited in books, while
Glorfindel once more turned to discuss the military aspects of the
journey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
pen neth - young one
roch neth nín - my colt
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


23

Legolas still had to wait some very long months until the weather was
stable enough to make the long trip to Lórien feasible with a young
child. Glorfindel used that time to aquaint the prince with the
hundreds of maps which were in Elrond's possession, and carefully
instructed Legolas in how to use them to plan a journey. When the day
of their departure had finally arrived, Legolas felt that even on his
own he should be able to find the way to Lórien without any trouble.

Nevertheless Legolas was anxious at the thought of taking Gîlríon on
such a long and possibly also perilous journey. Despite the end of the
war, the roads outside of Elrond's valley were still dangerous, and
Legolas could not bear to even think of the possibility of an orc or
warg attack on their little son. Still, now that they were surrounded
by the warriors on their horses, that fear seemed unfounded.
Glorfindel had taken all possible precautions - in fact, there had
been times when even Legolas began to feel exasperated with the extent
of Glorfindel's cautious preparations.

To safeguard them against the weather's whims, both he and his son had
been given a new cloak made of a heavy, blue wool that was lined with
the softest white fur. Together with the royal braids, which
Glorfindel insisted on for formal occasions like their leave-taking of
the Last Homely House and its Lord, Legolas indeed looked like a
prince. And with the sword hanging from the belt around his hips he
even felt like one, although he still could not believe that
Glorfindel had truly gifted him with a weapon. The sword was old and
not very impressive at first glance, but Legolas was in love with it
nevertheless. When Glorfindel had given it to him he had even
apologized for being unable to give him a nobler looking weapon, but
as Legolas was still slighter than the average youth and had problems
handling heavier swords, this was the only suitable blade they had
been able to find in the armoury.

During the first days of their journey, the weather was beautiful and
Legolas did not need the heavy cloak. For most of the day, Gîlríon was
seated before him, with Legolas' arms firmly around him to prevent him
from falling - not because he was afraid that Lainiell would try to
unseat them, but because the now almost one year old child possessed a
seemingly untiring curiosity for all the animals and plants they
encountered on their journey. Legolas was pleased by Gîlríon's love of
Ilúvatar's creation as it seemed to him a sign of his Sindarin blood,
but all the same it proved to be hard work to satisfy their son's
curiosity during the day.

Fortunately all those new impressions made Gîlríon tired. When the day
was over, he often fell directly into reverie as soon as camp was made
and Legolas had given him his usual fare of mashed fruits with lembas.
Then came a time Legolas had begun to look forward to - those warriors
that were not on duty to guard the travelling group would gather
around the fire to share a meal and to entertain each other with songs
and tales.

The company of the other elves and the stories they told fascinated
Legolas, and they also kept him from brooding over what his brother's
reaction would be like. He had never been close to Galuron, who had
always seemed cold and aloof and had not shown any desire to spend
time with his little brother. What would he think now, to see his
exiled brother so dependent on Glorfindel and with a small child at
his side? And surely being forced to leave his realm and his people to
serve as a hostage in Lórien would not have thawed Galuron's feelings
towards him...

But this brooding would change nothing, and so Legolas was glad of the
distraction the evenings offered him. The first few times, he had felt
very awkward, sitting among the warriors around the fire as if he were
one of them. He was certain that their opinion of him could not differ
very much from what Elladan thought of him, although by now, due to
Elrond's displeasure with any openly voiced insults, most of Imladris'
inhabitants simply ignored him.

Legolas would have preferred to sit at a distance from them, even
though he was not very tired yet, but Glorfindel wanted his company
and so it came to be that Legolas had spent every evening so far with
the warriors around the fire. They did not seem to mind his company -
although Legolas ascribed this to Glorfindel's presence - and their
tales captivated him. They painted a picture of a life he had always
wished to lead himself, but it had been a long time since he had
entertained any fantasies of some day bringing glory to his father or
his kingdom.

But there was more to these warriors than just songs - due to the
constant threat of death, they used their moments of rest to openly
express desire and love without shame. Legolas had soon found out that
there were a few couples among the guards, and that nobody seemed to
mind if those lovers found pleasure in each other's arms at night.
Apparently it was a commonly accepted habit for a couple to move their
bedrolls a little away from the fire - although still close by to the
other members of the company, in case of a surprise attack - in order
to enjoy each other.

During the first night of their journey, Legolas had been afraid that
Glorfindel would want to take him like that. Uneasy and tense with
nervousness he had waited for Glorfindel to join him for the night,
but when the seneschal had finally lain down next to him, he had only
wrapped one arm around him to pull him close, and they had fallen
asleep like that. Legolas had been relieved - and yet, over the next
few days when he witnessed the pleasures other elves enjoyed, he began
to wonder about the reasons for Glorfindel's uncharacteristic
abstinence. Perhaps Glorfindel was too tired after an entire day of
bearing the responsibility for the safety of their group? Or perhaps
he did not want to lose the respect of his warriors? Yet this reason
seemed strange to Legolas - certainly the other elves would not judge
Glorfindel for indulging in bodily pleasures when it was an accepted
habit for other members of their group...

This evening, the last one before they would be so far up in the
mountains that they would encounter snow, saw the heightened passion
of one particular pair. Searching for a place that would give them at
least a small amount of privacy, they had lain down behind a small
bush which shielded them from the view of the elves gathered around
the fire - but they had yet to realize that the bedroll of their
seneschal had been laid out only a small distance away.

Glorfindel had sent Legolas to look after Gîlríon, who was still
sleeping peacefully, and had also whispered into his ear the order to
go and prepare himself with some oil. This made Legolas both anxious
and excited - anxious, because this was the first time that Glorfindel
had expressed the desire to take him since they had started on this
journey, and Legolas felt ashamed at the thought of all the other
elves being able to listen to their sounds and guess just exactly what
they were doing under their blanket. Yet he also was excited because
Glorfindel had given him a deep, hungry kiss that had left him hard
and aching for the lord's skillful touch before sending him off.

And now, just when Legolas had pulled his leggings off and slipped
beneath the blankets to ready himself with his fingers for
Glorfindel's attentions, the two elves had settled behind that bush
just a horse's length away without noticing him.

At first they were trying to be silent and only soft sighs and gasps
reached Legolas' ears, but soon Legolas found to his utter
mortification that they liked to talk during their loveplay. And their
talk did not only consist of breathless pleas, no - Legolas could hear
his own name coming from the lips of one elf.

"Did you see our captain today? He looked ready to jump his little
prince right there at the fire!"

Legolas swallowed and looked around to make sure that nobody was close
enough to hear what they were saying. Glorfindel was still talking to
those who would keep watch during the night - Ellonúr had as usual
offered to take the first watch, keeping apart not only from
Glorfindel but also from the other warriors - and Legolas was once
again reminded what the lord had demanded of him. His face reddened
when he pushed one oiled finger into himself after he had made sure
that the blanket hid his actions from view.

Then another groan disturbed the silence. "Oh, I would have liked to
have seen that - certainly Glorfindel is as magnificient in loveplay
as he is at weaponplay!"

"Oh, believe me, Fairion, he is!" the first elf said and chuckled,
then moaned. "And his weapon is magnificient, too - no need to be
jealous of the captain's little love, I'm sure you'll hear him scream
tonight. But first I will make *you* scream..."

Legolas took a deep breath, wriggling uncomfortably. He was still
hard... he only hoped that those two would be finished and gone before
Glorfindel returned.

For a moment there was some rustling of leaves and dry branches, then
the moans started again. "Aiya, please, more... touch me!" Fairion
pleaded, then whimpered. "Ai, to think of our captain taking
possession of that sweet little thing... what I would not give to see
that!"

The other elf growled softly. "Like that idea, do you? That pretty,
pale youth helpless beneath our captain, all vulnerable and afraid and
yet forced to submissively accept him because our lord Glorfindel is
so much stronger.... mmmh, he must be delicious! Think about it, how
the young one must feel when he is taken, filled by our lord beyond
what he thinks he can endure..."

Fairion whimpered and then there was more rustling before soft moans
could be heard. "Please Laindir... move!" he begged, "I need you!"

Laindir groaned, and then there was a moment of silence where only the
sounds of lovemaking could be heard.

"Once we're in Lórien, I'll take you that way!" Laindir gasped. "Like
Glorfindel does with his prince!" A moan answered him, breathless and
needy, and he growled. "You'll be my little captive... and I'll do
with you whatever I want!"

Fairion cried out; apparently the picture his lover's words painted
had been enough to make him reach his climax. Legolas as well was
seeing himself beneath Glorfindel, just like the elf had described -
and although he was flushed with shame he still had one finger deep
inside himself, while his other hand rested between his legs,
squeezing around his member which was achingly hard and already moist
with the first drops of his essence.

The two elves were both still trying to calm their fast and noisy
breathing while Legolas closed his eyes for a moment, trying to keep
from spilling himself, yet unable to stop touching his heated flesh as
he imagined Glorfindel taking him so. Then he opened his eyes again,
only to find himself face to face with the golden-haired lord.


24

Legolas gasped and froze. Glorfindel smiled at him, a slow, languid
smile that gave Legolas a sinking feeling despite the amusement it
signified.

“What have we here?” Glorfindel murmured. “Did I not tell you to
prepare yourself?” He pushed one hand beneath the blanket and let it
rest over Legolas’ fingers, which were still wrapped around his hard
flesh. “I cannot remember telling you to pleasure yourself!”

“I did prepare myself, my lord...” Legolas protested softly, only to
gasp and fall silent when Glorfindel’s fingers moved further back
between his legs until they encountered his other hand.

“I see,” Glorfindel breathed and let his fingertips rub gently against
the opening that was stretched around the prince’s own digit. Legolas
shuddered and moaned softly, unconsciously arching his back to press
himself against Glorfindel, offering himself to him. “Then let me
inspect how well you have prepared yourself for me!” Slowly he pressed
the tip of one finger inside against the resistance of the tight
muscle. Legolas gasped, first tensing in surprise at the intrusion and
then trying to relax as Glorfindel’s finger slid deep inside him,
rubbing against his own in the process. It was so strangely erotic
that Legolas’ eyes fell closed and his entire body shuddered with
want.

“Aiya!” he whimpered. “Please, my lord...”

“Please what, roch neth?” Glorfindel said with a dark smile. “You need
to tell me what it is you want.” He crooked his finger, rubbing
against the nub inside the youth and chuckled at the immediate
response. Legolas tensed, holding his breath for a moment as the
intense pleasure threatened to overwhelm him, and then gasped for air
in what resembled desperate little sobs. 

“Take me, my lord! Please!” Legolas pleaded, and the need in his voice
was so clearly audible that Glorfindel showed mercy. He pulled his
finger out, allowing Legolas to do so as well, and quickly yanked the
tunic from Legolas' body. He pushed the bared youth down onto the
blanket, staring hungrily at Legolas while he unlaced and pulled off
his own clothes. Already Glorfindel was erect, and unlike Legolas, he
was not in the least bit concerned about the nearness of the guards.
He turned Legolas to his side, and then laid down behind him, with
Legolas' back to his chest and his taut buttocks flush against his
hard length.

“Like this?” he murmured and used his thumbs to open Legolas for him.
He pushed forward a little to let Legolas feel the blunt head of his
shaft, the rosy opening quivering at the contact. “Is this what you
want?”

“Yes! Oh yes, please...” Legolas begged helplessly, clawing at the
ground in order to keep from touching himself again. “Fill me my
lord... I am yours!”

“Oh yes, you are!” With a soft growl Glorfindel pushed forward,
forcing the tight ring of muscle to open around the thick head of his
erection, and did not stop until he could feel the smooth flesh of
Legolas’ buttocks against his testicles. Legolas moaned long and
deeply, and rustling sounds as well as the murmuring of soft voices
reminded them that they still had two eavesdroppers, and probably the
attention of the entire camp as well.

Glorfindel could feel Legolas tense and whimper with dismay when he
realized how exposed they were to the nearby elves. “Hush,” Glorfindel
tried to calm him and pressed a kiss to his temple, “do not worry
about them – your only concern right now should be to please me.”
Legolas closed his eyes, still trembling while he tried to ignore the
voices of the two guards. Glorfindel pulled the blanket up to cover
their bodies, then wrapped a strong arm around Legolas to hold him
close, kissing his neck and shoulder until the prince began to relax
into his arms once more.

“Concentrate on me!” Glorfindel breathed into his ear. “Concentrate on
how I feel – my body, my touch, my hardness inside you. It is the only
thing that matters to you."

“Yes, lord,” Legolas whispered weakly and reached for Glorfindel’s
hand which was resting on his belly. Timidly he entwined his fingers
with those of the warrior, then sighed and rested his head back
against Glorfindel’s shoulder. Glorfindel pulled back a little, then
pushed back in, nudging the spot inside Legolas that made him gasp and
arch his back. “Ai... more, please!” he moaned, pressing himself back
against Glorfindel to take him as deep as possible inside himself. He
turned his head to the side, silently pleading for a kiss, and the
Noldo indulged him and covered the offered lips with his own.

Legolas sighed, his lips parting in surrender when Glorfindel’s tongue
took possession of his mouth. He was flooded with sensation,
completely enveloped by Glorfindel. His mouth was filled with
Glorfindel’s taste, he was held in his arms, and surrounded by his
scent – and deep within him, he could feel Glorfindel’s passion, his
desire for him, hot and thick and claiming him so completely that
Legolas could not help but revel in his complete surrender to the
golden warrior. He moaned into Glorfindel’s mouth, giving himself over
to the strong Noldo, and was rewarded for his submission with another
gentle thrust which sent sweetest pleasure straight into the center of
his being. Again and again Glorfindel pushed into him, and while
Legolas vaguely realized that he should be silent, he could not hold
back the soft sighs and moans which Glorfindel’s skillful lovemaking
forced from him.

The warrior’s hand, entwined with his own, was still resting on his
belly, and now Glorfindel withdrew his fingers from Legolas’ grip to
wrap them around the youth’s aching shaft. Legolas shuddered, his
muscles tensing around Glorfindel, and after a few more of the
agonizingly slow thrusts Legolas came hard, still gasping for breath
when he felt Glorfindel’s warm essence fill him scant heartbeats
later.

Glorfindel panted as well, and for a short time both were unable to do
anything but rest, their bodies still joined. Finally Glorfindel
withdrew, pressing a gentle kiss to Legolas’ neck when the prince
sighed, then took a cloth to wipe the sticky result of their
lovemaking from their bodies.

“You could not wait for me?” he then asked, playfully biting into the
tempting shoulder before him. “Although you knew that I intended to
have you, you could not wait? Tell me, do you still remember my
rules?”

“I am sorry, my lord...I know that you told me to not touch myself!”
Legolas said softly and lowered his head.

“And yet you broke my rule. What do you think I should do with you,
roch neth nín?”

Legolas bit his lower lip. He knew what Glorfindel wanted to hear.
“You should punish me, my lord...” he whispered, tensing as he thought
about what it would feel like to be chastised before the eyes of the
warriors – and worse, before their child. Would Glorfindel truly do
this to him?

“Oh yes, you certainly deserve a punishment!” Glorfindel turned
Legolas around so that they now rested face to face, then smiled in
dark satisfaction at the anxiety he saw. “There are two ways we can do
this, Legolas – I will let you choose. I can punish you right here,
pull you over my knees and give you the spanking you know you deserve.
Or we can wait until Lórien, where neither Gîl nor my guards will be
able to watch, but where I will then use more than just my bare hand.
It is up to you, Legolas!”

“Please wait until Lórien, my lord!” Legolas hastily answered,
relieved and thankful that he would not have to endure the humiliation
of being disciplined like a child in front of the warriors. Nothing
could be worse than that.

“I will not go easy on you, Legolas,” Glorfindel warned. “It is not
only that you broke one of my rules; even worse – instead of finding
you ready for me, I see you pleasuring yourself while listening to the
lovemaking of two of my guards! Tell me, what am I supposed to think
about that?”

“Ai, I am sorry!” Legolas moaned, burning with shame. “Please, my
lord, believe me, it was not my intention to listen to them! But they
were so loud, and... and they were talking about you and me...”

“Is that true, Fairion? Laindir?” Glorfindel asked in a slightly
louder voice. Soft laughter answered him, then the two elves appeared
from behind the bush, dressed again but still flushed with the
aftermath of pleasure.

“Aye, Lord,” Fairion answered. “I have to admit that I told Laindir
how beautiful I thought you were together, especially your little
prince... and oh I was right, he makes the sweetest sounds!”

A choked noise of shame and protest came from Legolas at that
statement.

“I am sure he was thinking of nobody but yourself when he touched
himself, my lord,” Laindir said, smiling with unveiled amusement as he
looked down at his captain and the slender body cuddled against him.
Glorfindel wrapped one arm around Legolas and pulled him closer, but
his voice was notably colder when he again addressed the two elves.

“Who or what he thinks about is none of your concern – I suggest you
go and get some rest now, tomorrow will be a strenuous day for all of
us.”

“Of course, Lord Glorfindel,” the two guards immediately answered and
bowed their heads before they took their blankets and left, this time
without any outward signs of amusement.

Glorfindel sighed, shaking his head slowly. “They are all laughing at
me,” he said, but it was obvious that he was not truly angry about it.
"To think how I have complained every time we had to guard some lord
with his lady and children on the journey to and from Lórien, instead
of fighting orcs... ai, it is no wonder that they laugh now that I
myself am taking my small son on a visit to the Golden Wood.”

“Is that why you have not... taken me until now?” Legolas asked
slowly, not certain if the question would anger Glorfindel. But the
Noldo only smiled and shook his head.

“Had I known that you would take to eavesdropping on my guards if I
did not give you release, I would have taken you much sooner, my
wanton little prince!” Glorfindel said and laughed out loud when
Legolas protested. “I have made it a habit to not indulge myself at
the beginning of a journey, not until I see how the dynamics of the
group work. You must have been very tired these last several nights if
you did not realize that I often got up from our bed to see how the
current watch was doing!”

“You are right, my lord, I had not realized that,” Legolas said,
suddenly feeling very young and foolish to sleep through those
disturbances.

“Do not worry, Legolas, I know that you are not used to travel. That
is why there are so many guards with us, so that you and Gîlríon can
sleep safely at night.”

“And what about tonight?” Legolas asked, lowering his eyes to escape
Glorfindel’s amused gaze.

“Oh, I do not think I will have to get up tonight – by now I have
worked out a plan that matches the inexperienced youngsters with my
older warriors, and I have assured myself that they work well
together. No, from now on the nights are my own, to use as I like...
to use *you* as I like!” Glorfindel crowned the last sentence
with a light bite to Legolas’ nipple, soothing the stiff nub with his
tongue when Legolas gasped. “I should like to get you with child
again, you tasted so sweet...” he mused before he bent down to suck on
the small nipple.

Legolas was clearly not happy about that thought, but soon he was
writhing again, softly moaning as his tender flesh was manipulated.
Only a short while ago Gîlríon had been weaned, and while Legolas’
chest was finally once more as flat as that of every other male, his
nipples were still very sensitive. Legolas was not sure if this was
still an effect of giving birth and nursing a babe, or if this
sensitivity was normal – after all, he had never had his nipples
sucked before he got pregnant.

That thought alone made Legolas blush, and Glorfindel released him,
chuckling at this reaction. “I thought you missed nursing Gîlríon...”
he teased.

“But it is different... with you,” Legolas protested, then fell silent
when Glorfindel’s thumb circled around his stiff, reddened nipple.

“There will be other children for you to suckle one day,” Glorfindel
promised and smirked at Legolas’ unhappy sigh. “But for now, we should
sleep. From tomorrow on the journey will be harder, and it will be
several days until we will have a camp as comfortable as this
again...”

“Yes, my lord,” Legolas answered obediently, then looked wistfully at
their sleeping child. Glorfindel smiled at Legolas’ obvious need to
feel Gîlríon close, and so he got up to his knees and gently lifted
his son from his soft bedding. As soon as the child was in Legolas’
arms, he nestled against his ada’s chest, still deeply asleep, and
Glorfindel curled up against Legolas’ back with a protective arm over
the two of them, keeping them safe and close during the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
roch neth = colt
roch neth nín = my colt
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


25

Although they made many pauses to rest and made camp early, the
journey to Lórien was more exhausting than Legolas would have thought
it to be. He was not used to spending so many days on top of a horse -
and then there was also Gîlríon to look after. The child had enough
curiosity to keep Legolas busy all day, repeatedly trying to get away
from his ada's arms to have a closer look at whatever object had
intrigued him. Fortunately this energy quickly waned once the day came
to its end, and Gîlríon was asleep as soon as Legolas tucked a blanket
around him.

This left Legolas time to spend with Glorfindel, sitting around the
fire with the other guards and listening to their conversation. At
first he had been afraid that there would be ridicule and derogatory
comments after Glorfindel had so obviously had his way with him, yet
this did not come to pass. Legolas still wondered about the reason,
but he soon came to believe that - apart from some quiet amusement at
seeing their Lord as the head of a family - nobody here seemed to care
about what they did at night.

In this way, the journey finally came to its end, after they had
crossed the Misty Mountains on a steep, snow-covered pass and ridden
through rolling foothills towards the wood. A group of Lórien guards
clad in grey was already waiting for them and led them deep into the
forest, alerted to their imminent arrival by a messenger Glorfindel
had sent once they had crossed the mountains.

It was a day's journey until they reached the gates of Caras Galadhon,
which were already open in expectation of their arrival. Legolas had
heard Glorfindel's description of the city that was build into the
tops of the trees, but mere words had not been enough to truly
describe the breathtaking vision of the telain built high atop the
golden-leaved mallorn trees.

He breathed deeply the scent that emanated from the trees and listened
to their song. The voices of the mellyrn were deep, yet their song was
sweet and for a moment Legolas closed his eyes to listen.

Glorfindel's chuckle woke Legolas from his trance. "He definitely has
Sindarin blood," the Noldo said with a smile and then took hold of
Gîlríon and lifted him up, so that he was now sitting in front of the
warrior.

"Atto!" Gîlríon giggled, then pointed at the trees. "They are shining!
And they are prettier than those we have at home! I like them! Can I
go and play among them?"

"We will be staying here for a while, so I think that you will have
more than enough time to play among them later, especially as we will
be living in those trees."

Gîlríon's eyes widened at his father's words, which brought a smile to
Legolas' lips. "I promise that I will go out with you to walk among
them later," he promised his son. "If you do not mind, my lord?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "I will come with you, if I have the time.
I do not yet know what our hosts have planned for us..."

"The Lady has told me to take you to a talan that has been prepared
for you, and to tell you to rest for a while," one of the guards said.
"But," he added, "our Lady and Lord will be glad to have you and your
family join them for dinner this evening."

Glorfindel nodded. "Tell your Lady that I am grateful for her
hospitality, and that we will gladly accept her invitation."

While Glorfindel, Legolas and Gîlríon were shown to their talan, their
horses were brought to a near-by stable, as were Ellonúr and the
guards that had accompanied them. While the warriors would have to
share several large telain that were usually used by the Lothlórien
guards, the talan that had been prepared for Glorfindel was reserved
for high-ranking guests, and as such offered every comfort the warrior
might have missed on their journey. But they could not yet take
advantage of the soft bed and the bowl of fresh fruits which a servant
had brought, as Gîlríon was far too excited to allow his parents to
rest.

An hour later, after having dragged his parents through the wood,
Gîlríon was finally tired enough that he fell asleep as soon as
Legolas had laid him down onto the small bed that stood in the corner
of the talan. Glorfindel took advantage of the opportunity to pull
Legolas down onto the bed, greedily pushing his hands beneath his
tunic.

"How I have missed having you all to myself..." Glorfindel breathed.
"Tell me, how do I make use of this time we have now?"

Legolas writhed beneath him, shivering when Glorfindel's fingers
touched sensitive areas. "Ai, please don't, my lord... we do not have
the time! Shouldn't we be preparing to dine with our hosts?"

"We have more than enough time for what I want to do to you, and you
cannot tell me you do not want this" Glorfindel answered with a
teasing smile and then pushed one hand straight between Legolas'
thighs. He laughed at the whimper that produced, and then gently
squeezed. "Not hard yet, it is true... but I think I can change that."

"But what if Gîl wakes?" Legolas said, unable to supress the shivers
that wracked his body at Glorfindel's skillful massage.

"Perhaps you are right... we should not do this right now." Glorfindel
withdrew his hands and smirked at the expression of disbelief and
utter frustration on Legolas' face. "I will wait until tonight then...
I will be very hungry for you after that dinner, Legolas, so you would
do well to make sure that you are properly prepared for me!"

Legolas spent much of the remaining time before dinner pondering
whether this was a threat or a promise. But when it was finally time
to leave their talan after they had washed and dressed and braided
their hair, he was so nervous that he forgot all about it. Even though
he was hungry and looking forward to a proper meal, he would rather
have stayed and submitted to Glorfindel's lusts than to dine with the
Lord and Lady... yet there was no way around it. At least Glorfindel
had promised that it would be a very small dinner, with only a select
few in attendance, so that Legolas hoped to forego the humiliation of
meeting Haldir there. He had not yet forgotten the cutting remarks
that had given his secret away almost two years ago...

The table that awaited them at the royal talan was small, and to
Legolas' relief there was no sight of the marchwarden he had met in
Imladris. Besides the Lord and Lady of the Wood and a darkhaired woman
whom Legolas took to be Arwen, there were two other male elves that
seemed to be advisors, as they wore not the garb of warriors but
elaborate robes. Legolas had half feared that Galuron would also be
there, yet his brother was absent. Legolas was relieved that he would
not have to face him just yet, but nevertheless it seemed to be a bad
sign - Galuron quite probably thought him to be a traitor, and perhaps
would not even want to talk with him during his stay here in
Lothlórien.

"My Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn," Glorfindel greeted their hosts and
bowed. Legolas inclined his head, suddenly glad for the reassuring
presence of Gîlríon whom he carried in his arms. Then Glorfindel bowed
again and greeted Arwen with a smile. "Arwen, it has been far too long
since you have graced Imladris with your fair presence! Still, I think
you have grown even more beautiful here in Lórien!"

"I am glad to see you as well, Glorfindel... I have missed you, and
all the others at home," Arwen said and smiled. "And I see that you
have brought somebody else along?"

Gîlríon stared at her with wide eyes, then began to wriggle in
Legolas' arms. "Let me down, ada!" he declared. "I can walk on my
own!"

Legolas sighed softly but complied. He could only hope that any
reservations which these elves might feel towards Thranduil, would not
extend to Gîlríon. While Legolas was used to dealing with scorn and
humiliation, his son should not have to suffer because of his
ancestry.

Still, he did not truly fear for his son's well-being. Gîl was
Glorfindel's son and heir, and surely nobody would dare to insult him.
For - if somebody did - they would certainly get to feel Glorfindel's
anger.

No, Legolas knew that his fears for his son were foolish, yet he could
not help but tense in fearful anticipation when Gîlríon looked
curiously at Galadriel, taking a step towards her as she reached out
her arms to him. "Mae govannen," he said as he had been taught and
smiled at the Lady.

"Mae govannen, child of light and twilight," Galadriel answered and
rested her hand on his head, gently stroking the golden curls. "I have
looked forward to meeting you - you, and your parents." She looked up,
and when her eyes met those of Legolas, he felt a strange sense of
calmness come over him. He knew at once that his fears were unfounded
- Galadriel would not let his son be harmed by the Silvan antipathy to
the rule of Thranduil.

But then a different pair of eyes came to rest on Legolas, and he
shivered. Celeborn, Lord of Lórien... and the only elf in this room
whom he had met before. Legolas forced himself the meet the Lord's
eyes. He remembered well the day when Celeborn had offended him by
comparing him to a girl, and he remembered even more vividly how
Glorfindel had used his belt to punish him right there on the balcony.

Did Celeborn think of that incident right now? Did he remember
Legolas' cries of pain that had to have been audible in the hall that
evening?

Celeborn gave him an enigmatic smile, and Legolas shuddered. He might
not look like a girl now - wearing his royal braids and a formal, blue
robe he looked more like a prince than he had ever before. Yet
Celeborn obviously remembered that day... and apparently he was still
amused by the fate of his enemy's son.


26

"Legolas Thranduilion," Celeborn said slowly, still smiling, and
Legolas winced when he heard his father's name. He did not think that
it was proper to be addressed in such a way, not when Thranduil no
longer acknowledged him as his son - but the princely garb Glorfindel
had gifted him with told another tale.

"Lord Celeborn," he said, and his voice was weaker than he would have
wished. Yet he managed to endure the Lord's gaze without showing
outward signs of his anxiety.

"It has been a long time since we have last seen each other - nigh on
two years, I think? I can see that many things have changed for you in
the meantime..." There was laughter in Celeborn's eyes as he took in
the sight of Legolas with his royal braids and festive robes, and the
body that had begun to firm from sword training. Legolas knew at once
that Celeborn was comparing him to the frightened child he had once
been, and that Celeborn intended for him to know what he was doing.

He defiantly raised his chin, enduring Celeborn's muster proudly. He
might not truly be a prince anymore, but he would not be cowed either.
He would not feel shame for who he was, not while Gîlríon was with him
- he would not give his son the impression that he was ashamed of
being his father, no matter what happened.

"And you, little spark, were not even born then!" Celeborn tuned to
look at Gîlríon, who now left Galadriel's side to curiously stare at
the silver-haired lord.

"Mae govannen," Gîlríon said politely. Celeborn graciously knelt to be
able to look into the child's eyes, but when the moonlight was caught
in his silver hair and made them shimmer, Gîlríon grabbed a handful
with a delighted cry.

Legolas flinched as Gîlríon tugged on it, but apart from a slight
wince, Celeborn did not react.

"Gîl..." Glorfindel chided and stepped up to help Celeborn free
himself.

"No, let him - I do not mind, Glorfindel." Celeborn smiled at the
young child. "You have not seen hair like this in Imladris, I think?"

"No." Gîlríon shook his head. "Atto's hair is like the sun. But yours
is like starlight! It is pretty!"

Celeborn began to laugh and bent forward to gently press a kiss to the
child's forehead. "Thank you, Gîlríon."

"But my ada's hair is pretty too!" Gîlríon then declared, perhaps
worried that his ada would feel left out. He let go of Celeborn's hair
to run back to Legolas' side, wrapping his arms around one of his
legs. Happily he pressed his cheek against the robe-covered thigh,
smiling up at his father. And Legolas could not help but to gather him
up in his arms, holding him tightly for a moment to ensure himself
that nothing had happened to him. He had told himself that Celeborn
could not possibly hurt his son in any way, yet his own fear of the
lord had made his heart stop for a moment when he saw Gîlríon pull on
his hair with that innocent curiosity.

"Yes, it is," Glorfindel said and stepped towards Legolas, pressing a
kiss to his hair as he wrapped his arm around him. It felt almost like
Glorfindel was trying to make a point, but what that point might be
Legolas did not know. Perhaps he wanted to underline the fact that he
would not tolerate any humiliation of Legolas, as that would also hurt
their child - Legolas was not sure, but he decided not to wonder about
it. He would be happy if the Lórien elves would simply ignore him
during the dinner, or even during all of their stay here. After all,
there was more to Lothlórien than formal dinners...

The wood was beautiful, deeper and more mysterious than what could be
found close to Imladris, and the thought of wandering among the trees
for hours filled Legolas with a breathless anticipation. The peaceful
haven of Imladris, the valley of waterfalls, was a beautiful home
filled with sunlight and the scent of flowers, yet Legolas had often
found himself yearning for the feel of thick, moist moss beneath his
feet and the play of the sunlight that fell in through the crowns of
the trees to paint green-golden lines on his skin.

This journey to Lórien had made him realize how much he missed the
voices of an old, thick wood, and he would be happy to while away the
days playing with Gîlríon beneath the golden mellyrn, instead
of being forced to spend his time with the likes of Celeborn or
Haldir. Yet somehow he knew that Glorfindel would not allow him such a
reclusive behavior. The garb he wore made it obvious that Glorfindel
expected him to accompany his lord on formal occasions like this
dinner, and behave like the prince he had never had a chance to be.

"Then let us sit down and eat," Galadriel declared. "Your journey was
long and hard and we hope that you will enjoy this dinner."

The food that was served to them was more than just enjoyable,
especially after the long days with nothing but lembas and dried meats
and fruits. They sat and feasted for a long time, partaking of all the
offered food and wine, although after his last experience, Glorfindel
ensured that Legolas' wine was diluted with water.

To Legolas' surprise, everbody behaved very courteously - there were
no meaningful glances, no whispered words of derision or attempts to
engage him in conversation only to humiliate him later. The only
problem Legolas faced during dinner was that Gîlríon had developed a
liking for the sweet, fragrant honey that bees had gathered from
mallorn blossoms in spring, and now was leaving sticky
fingerprints on everything he touched, including his ada's robe and
hair.

"Our little honeybee is in need of a bath, I fear," Glorfindel
chuckled once they had finished eating and Gîlríon tried to use the
opportunity to crawl onto his lap, smearing honey into his hair in the
process.

"Shall I bathe him and put him to bed afterwards? It is already late
for him..." Legolas winced when Gîlríon once again gleefully reached
for a golden strand of hair with his sticky fingers, and quicky pulled
his hands away. He looked questioningly at Glorfindel, hoping that his
lord would allow him to leave. Dinner had not been as bad as he had
feared; the food had been tasty, and he had enjoyed listening to the
conversations around him. Still, he was secretly glad about Gîlríon's
presence, as it now gave him an excuse to leave the company before his
own inadequacy became too obvious.

Glorfindel hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded and pressed a
kiss to his son's sticky lips. "Losto vae, gîl nín!"

"Bain dhaw, atto! Bain dhaw, brennyn a brinnil," Gîlríon said
politely, then yawned and wrapped his arms around Legolas' neck when
the prince took his son from Glorfindel's arms.

"And Legolas... don't forget what I promised you in the mountains!"
Glorfindel said, smiling as Legolas flushed before he nodded and all
but fled from the royal talan.

He knew that it was the punishment that Glorfindel had spoken of, and
could not get the thought of what would happen once Glorfindel
returned out of his mind, not even while he bathed Gîlríon and tucked
him in afterwards. Anticipating what would come to pass later on, he
had moved the small bed from the corner of their bedroom into the
sitting room.

Finally, once Gîlríon was asleep and he had bathed himself and
afterwards annointed his body with some of the rare mallorn
blossom oil that had been placed in their bathroom, he could do
nothing more but wait. He had dressed in a short, thin nightshirt
which he had found among his packed clothes. So far he had never had
any use for sleeping clothes, as Glorfindel's foremost rule of being
naked in his bed was still firmly in place - yet he wondered why
Glorfindel had had this shirt made for him if he did not intend for
him to wear it. The shirt was so short that it barely covered his
buttocks, yet he felt better wearing it as he was uncomfortable being
naked in such an unknown environment.

He sighed softly as he laid down on their bed and covered himself with
their blanket. He was tired after the journey, yet far too nervous to
fall asleep now with the threat of the punishment still hanging over
him. He wondered what Glorfindel would do - he had promised to use
more than just his bare hand. Legolas swallowed, then turned his head
to press his flushed face into the cool, silken sheet, feeling
embarrassed by his treacherous body. He was afraid of what Glorfindel
might do - yet he was hard now, aching for his lord's touch.

And he did not even know if release would be granted to him tonight!
How could he get aroused knowing what was in store for him? He sighed
again, his breath trembling as he tried to calm himself. All he could
do was to wait... but waiting was hard, especially as now unbidden
images of his lord's naked magnificence appeared in front of his eyes,
keeping him aroused as he tossed and turned beneath the blanket.

---------------
Mae govannen - Well met
Losto vae, gîl nín - Sleep well, my star
Bain dhaw - Good night
atto - father [Quenya]
Bain dhaw, brennyn a brinnil - Good night, lords and ladies
----------------


27

The next time Legolas woke, he saw Glorfindel sitting at the edge of
their bed, watching him with a bemused smile.

"My Lord," Legolas said drowsily, reaching out with one hand to pull
Glorfindel down to him, but then abandoning that idea as it took too
much effort. Instead he wrapped that arm around Glorfindel's waist and
curled himself around him, so he could rest his head in his lord's
lap. The warrior watched him with affection in his eyes, brushing the
hair away from Legolas' face and then began to gently stroke his back
with his fingertips, coaxing a contented sigh from the young prince.

Roch neth... do not fall asleep," Glorfindel said softly, pulling the
sleepy young Sinda up so that he was straddling his lap. He kissed his
temple when Legolas rested his head against his shoulder, allowing him
to doze in his arms for another moment.

Finally Legolas stretched and looked up at Glorfindel, becoming aware
once again of their surroundings - and of what Glorfindel had promised
him earlier. "I am sorry, my lord - I did not intend to fall asleep."

"No, you are still exhausted from the journey, Legolas, you do not
need to be sorry for being tired." Glorfindel smiled, then dragged one
finger up Legolas' thigh, moving the nightshirt upwards as well.

Legolas flushed at Glorfindel's teasing touch. "Forgive me, lord... I
know well that I am not supposed to wear this in bed, but I was afraid
somebody might come in."

"Indeed I do not permit this usually, but I will allow it during our
stay in Lórien. You would do well not to grow used to it, though,"
Glorfindel said sternly, but was placated by Legolas' obedient nod.
"Well then... I think it is time to address your behavior in the
mountains, Legolas. You do remember what I promised you, do you not?"

"Yes, my Lord..." Legolas voice was trembling slighty, and his cheeks
reddened when he raised his eyes. "You promised to use more than your
hand to discipline me."

"Yes, indeed I did. I think it is time to acquaint you with some of
the.... finer subleties of pain, and the pleasure that may be derived
from it. Do you see this?" Glorfindel got up to take something from
the table, then returned to the bed and placed it into Legolas' hands.
"A mallorn switch - freshly cut just moments ago. I freed it from its
bark while you slept, roch neth. Is it not beautiful? There is no wood
I cherish more. Touch it, Legolas, feel how smooth it is, how strong
and yet so flexible. How the pale wood shimmers golden when the light
hits it... We will take it back to Imladris with us, and it will be
your responsibility to care for it, to oil it, and - most importantly
- you will get it and present it to me whenever you think that you
have erred and need to be disciplined. Do you understand me, Legolas?"

"Yes, my Lord," Legolas said softly, touching the smooth wood with
both trepidation and awe. Glorfindel was right - the wood was
beautiful, pale with several golden veins. They shimmered in the
candlelight which Glorfindel seemed to have lit while he had been
asleep... "How do you want me, my Lord?" he asked bravely, already
fearing the sting of the switch.

"I want to see you kneel before me, cunn lend nín," Glorfindel purred,
his smile widening when Legolas gracefully slid from the bed to the
floor to kneel there in front of his lord. "Yes... very good, Legolas.
And now tell me for which transgression you have earned yourself a
punishment, and ask me to give it."

"I... I listened to the guards..." Legolas began, a little hesitant as
he remembered his shameful behavior. "I listened to them making love,
and I - I touched myself while I was supposed to wait for you, lord."
He bowed his head, feeling true shame now that he recounted his deeds.
"Forgive me, my lord; my behavior was improper, I shamed you in front
of your guards. Please punish me, so that I will learn to control
myself, and to bring honor to you."

Glorfindel had watched Legolas with a serious expression, but now he
nodded and raised a hand to caress his cheek. "Yes, Legolas, you still
have much to learn, but I am pleased that you realized your mistake. I
will punish you, and then we will not talk about it again. Come, over
my lap, roch neth..."

Once Legolas had positioned himself, Glorfindel pulled up the hem of
the nightshirt to pat the firm buttocks, then began to spank the
prince, laughing softly at the surprised yelp that caused. "Just to
warm you up a little," he explained with obvious amusement. "And
because I so love the way you writhe and tremble on my lap..."

But despite his words, he kept the slaps light, not meaning to cause
pain beyond a slight sting. Legolas soon relaxed - and while his skin
was continuing to redden, his length was slowly hardening against
Glorfindel's thigh. The Noldorin warrior could hear his breathing
quickening, and also knew that the little sounds that escaped Legolas
were not caused by pain, but rather suppressed moans.

Glorfindel smiled and pulled Legolas up. "This is supposed to be a
punishment," he teasingly remarked. "But can it be that you actually
enjoy this?"

Legolas stared at him, wide-eyed and obviously confused and miserable
about his body's reaction. "No, my lord... I do not like to be hurt.
But... but I like being close to you. I like being touched by you..."

"Ah, but was this truly painful, roch neth? I think not... you already
know what it is like to be punished for a serious infraction of my
rules. Now get up, it is time to try out how the mallorn will feel on
your skin. Just bend over that table for me."

Still looking troubled and visibly confused, Legolas obeyed. He did
not even fear the mallorn switch anymore as he kept thinking about
Glorfindel's words and the strange reactions of his body. He did not
like to be punished - did he?

Then the switch came down and he cried out in surprise, immediately
biting his lip afterward to stifle more of the cowardly sounds. It
hurt, it truly hurt... the pain seemed to vibrate through his entire
body, and his bottom felt as if it was burning with heat. Yet he was
aware that Glorfindel was holding back. The pain was nowhere near as
bad as what he had endured with other, far worse, punishments - but it
hurt nonetheless.

"That is enough," Glorfindel said after only a few strokes, eyeing
with satisfaction the red lines that he had laid over Legolas'
buttocks, not one line crossing the other. "It suits you, this
chastised look... and see, I think you enjoyed it after all." He
reached between Legolas' thighs to grasp the still-hard shaft, coaxing
an uncomfortable moan from the prince.

Then Glorfindel let go of him, patting Legolas' bottom again and
smirking as the prince hissed. "Up with you... get my brush, and some
of that wine over there." He watched Legolas hurry away, smiling in
satisfaction. He had chosen well... the nightshirt was so short that
with every step, it was pulled up and gave glimpses of the pert red
buttocks and the welts that decorated it.

Glorfindel sat down in a chair, relaxing into the velvet cushion, and
took the goblet of wine Legolas had fetched him. He motioned for the
prince to kneel, then took the brush from his fingers as well. "Do not
fear, no more punishments for you today - if you behave," he teased,
then put the goblet down and began to brush Legolas' hair that had
been mussed both by sleep and the subsequent disciplining over his
lap.

With a deep sigh Legolas rested his chin on Glorfindel's thigh,
closing his eyes as he calmed under the soothing ministrations.
Despite the stinging welts, Legolas enjoyed the intimacy of the
situation - it felt a little like he was floating, protected by a
cloud from all other emotions but those of safety and comfort, and a
deep yearning to be allowed to stay like this. No longer did he muse
about why it had aroused him to be pulled over Glorfindel's knee;
there was no room for thoughts now, only the peace of acceptance, and
of gratitude for his lord's tenderness.

That peace was shattered before Glorfindel was finished with the
prince's hair, when after a soft knock, Celeborn entered their talan.
Legolas gasped and flinched, then yelped as that made the brush that
was still in his hair yank on some strands.

"Suilad," Celeborn greeted them, receiving a smile and a greeting in
return from Glorfindel.

"Celeborn, mellon nín - please sit down. I am glad that you found the
time. It has been far too long..."

The Lord of the Wood nodded, choosing the chair next to Glorfindel.
"Yes, it has been a long time. There are few here who I can talk
freely with, as I do with you. Your visits and our conversations are
something that I look forward to all the more because of their
infrequency."

"Legolas, fetch the Lord some wine," Glorfindel ordered, then laughed
softly when Celeborn's eyes widened and followed Legolas on his way
through the room, resting very obviously on his red buttocks.

"Did you misbehave, cunn dithen?" Celeborn inquired, unable to help
the amused smile that spread over his face. That smile got even wider
when Legolas turned to them, and the Lord of the Golden Wood could see
that he was still aroused.

Legolas blushed furiously, lowering his eyes as he presented the
goblet to Celeborn with slightly shaking hands.

"I see you enjoy it, too, when Glorfindel is forced to discipline
you?" Celeborn could not resist teasing.

Glorfindel laughed and tugged on his prince's arm so that he was once
again forced to rest on the floor, with his head resting on the
Noldo's thigh.

"Well, Legolas? What is your answer to Lord Celeborn's question?"

------------------------
roch neth - colt
cunn lend nín - my sweet prince
suilad - greetings
mellon nín - my friend
cunn dithen - little prince
------------------------


28

"Yes, I… I misbehaved,"Legolas forced himself to admit, not daring to
raise his eyes as he waited for another humiliating remark. "My lord
punished me so I would not bring dishonor to him and to myself again."

"The punishment can not have been very hard then," Celeborn said with
a pointed look to Legolas' lap. "Or have you truly learned to find
pleasure in your lord's touch, no matter if caress or chastisement?"

"No!" Legolas protested, then flushed with shame at his impolite
response. "No, my lord... I do not, I just, I... I like being close to
my lord," he admitted, feeling shame at his body's reaction, and at
the easiness with which he answered the Lord of the Golden Wood.
Certainly these questions were designed to humiliate him - but what
else could he do but show Celeborn the respect and deference he
deserved as ruler of his realm, especially when Glorfindel was with
him?

"Hmmm... that you realize this is a beginning, at least," Celeborn
said with a smile that was partly amused, but partly tinged with real
affection. "And why should you not enjoy being close to him? The Lord
of the Golden Flower is one of the mightiest warriors of our time, and
the flame of his fëa burns brightly within him. All who see him are
dazzled, maidens and younglings alike, and Lords and Kings would
happily give their children to him to bind the most exalted of the
Gondolindrim to their houses - yet he chose you."

"Yes," Legolas acknowledged softly. He did not know what Celeborn
wanted of him - but his words were true. Glorfindel had chosen him,
and while then he had been a spoil of war - not much better than what
humans would call slave - by now, he was more. He did not know exactly
what he was, but he was not a slave. The Glorfindel he knew gave
freely of his affection, was concerned with Legolas' wellfare and
education, continually teaching him - and Glorfindel did not allow
even the smallest slight of him. No, Legolas was no slave - but what
was he then? The "captain's little love", one of the guards had called
him, but Legolas shied away from that train of thought.

If he thought back to what his life had been like in Mirkwood, he knew
that this was much more than what he could ever have hoped to have had
there. Glorfindel could be warm and full of affection for him, and
lately, even when he had thought it necessary to discipline him,
Legolas had not feared him. It was as if the earlier conglomerate of
emotions, the hatred for the Sindar of Mirkwood, the derision and the
often cruel lust, had been washed away by time and left behind a
Glorfindel that seemed playful even when disciplining him - never
angry, but playing a game that Legolas did not yet understand.

Glorfindel gently stroked Legolas' hair, then sighed and got up. "I
think I just heard Gîl... I will go see if he has woken. Please pour
the lord more wine; I know that he likes this vintage."

Legolas nodded, not sure what else to do. Obediently he got up and
poured some more of the ruby liquid into Celeborn's goblet, then
poured some more for Glorfindel as well. For a moment he wondered
whether he was supposed to kneel again, but while he did not mind
kneeling at Glorfindel's side as this position often brought
pleasurable caresses, somehow he did not want to kneel in front of
Celeborn and so took Glorfindel's chair instead.

"There is no shame in enjoying your submission, you do realize that?"
Celeborn said, his voice soft as if he were simply voicing his
thoughts aloud without being aware that Legolas was listening. "Many
of our most revered warriors and kings chose to play games in the
safety of their bed chambers, games of submission and dominance, and
none of it had anything to do with their wise ruling or valiant
fighting. And why should there be shame in a lord who continually has
to bear the responsibility for the well-being of hundreds of elves
seeking relief from the pressure of that burden? Why should there be
shame in him abandoning all his fears and worries for an hour in which
he is not allowed to make a single decision, so that his lover can
dominate him and help him to find a few moments of peace in his
submission?"

Celeborn was quiet for a moment, as if to give Legolas time to muse
over his words, but perhaps he was only remembering the kings and
lords of whom he spoke.

"And what of their lovers, the lords, the warriors who lost so much?
Is it simple cruelty, their need to dominate, their excitement at
hearing their loved ones gasp in pain? Or is theirs perhaps a need
just as great as that of their lovers? Those who crossed the
Helcaraxë, those who brought death to their kin at Alqualondë, those
who fought and lost their families to the evil of Morgoth... If those
developed a taste for control, is it that hard to understand? If they
find relief from their memories and their guilt in their lover's
graceful submission, in an obediently arched back - in the knowledge
that they can bring peace to their beloved's mind, be it by pleasure
or pain or even humiliation... Can you judge them?"

"These games, young prince, have been played long before you were
born. And your lord is a rare master. There should be no shame in your
eyes, Legolas. I am one of the few true friends your lord has, and
what I see, I understand. I can see that he has chosen you - he, who
could have anyone. Do not feel shame. You are a prince, the Valar have
gifted you with a beautiful child and the famed Balrog slayer
Glorfindel of Gondolin cares for you and will protect you. Is this not
enough reason to feel pride in who you are, child?"

Legolas stared into the ruby liquid that was glistening in the silver
goblet, gazing at the small waves that destroyed the mirrorlike
surface at his smallest move. He did not know how to respond to
Celeborn's words. He had not imagined that he would be treated thus -
he had readied himself for derision, for words befitting a slave. Yet
he was treated as a prince - as an equal to the Lord Celeborn, despite
the continued references to his age - although that was no wonder. He
had not even reached his majority yet, whereas Celeborn had dwelt in
the Halls of Menegroth and saw the sack of Doriath and the wrath of
Fëanor's sons. Compared to him, Legolas was indeed little more than a
child, although he himself felt that he had already matured beyond his
years.

"Thank you for your words, my lord," he finally said, and although his
voice was soft, it was nevertheless firm. "I will think about what you
have told me today. I am... grateful that you spoke so freely with
me." He was not yet sure what to think of Celeborn's words. Certainly
he might be right, as he had already seen Ellonúr beg for Glorfindel's
mastery over him, for the bite of the cane even - yet somehow he still
could not believe that there were those who asked for pain, who even
enjoyed it.

Unhappily, he remembered how he had squirmed when Glorfindel had
pulled him over his lap, and how his Lord's touch had aroused him
despite the humiliating position he was in - yet this was different
somehow, it had to be, he told himself. He was not like Ellonúr, he
would never beg to be hurt!

Celeborn nodded slowly. "Yes, think about them... that is all I ask.
You might be confused about a lot of things, young one, but there is
no need for you to feel shame. Do not allow people to ridicule you for
what happens in the privacy of your bed chamber, but know that these
things have existed for almost as long as the days of the Firstborn.
You are a prince of your people, and you deserve respect for that."

Then Celeborn smiled, somewhat mischievious, and leaned forward to
whisper: "Unless your lord has invited one of his oldest friends who
shares his *interests*, of course - then you are not so much
prince, but the one who submits to his lover's cane to please him." He
chuckled softly and leaned back, watching Glorfindel enter the room
once again. "What happens here will not be told to anyone else,
Legolas, I promise you that."

Glorfindel raised a brow as he returned to his chair. "You seem to
have had an interesting conversation!" Legolas immediately got up, but
before he could kneel in front of the chair once more, Glorfindel
pulled him onto his lap, pressing a quick kiss to his temple. "So,
what have you been talking about, mellon nín?"

"I have been wondering - Mallorn cane, right?" Celeborn said. "The
welts certainly look like it, and I know that you have always favored
that wood."

Glorfindel chuckled. "Yes, indeed. Mallorn is very... rewarding, in
trained hands. Yet I know that you favor other materials. Have you
ever tried warg hide, I wonder? "

Legolas' mind began to stray from the topic the two lords were
currently discussing. He leaned his head against Glorfindel's shoulder
and enjoyed the warmth of the arms that came to embrace him, while he
once again began to rethink Celeborn's remarks. His explanations had
been interesting - no, more than that, a revelation even. Knowing that
there had been lords, kings even, who would submit to a lover in the
seclusion of their bed chamber... this was something he would have to
contemplate carefully, and mayhap Glorfindel could be made to tell him
an anecdote or two.


29

Legolas’ thoughts were still focused on his conversation with
Celeborn, even after the lord had left and he was resting on their
bed, pulled against Glorfindel’s chest by the warrior’s strong arms.
His cheek rested where Glorfindel’s heartbeat could lull him into
sleep, while fingers idly stroked his hair. Legolas breathed the scent
of freshly-cut grass that always seemed to cling to his lord’s locks,
and gradually he realized that he was content. The realization was
strange, for after what their beginnings had been, should he not fear
and hate the golden Lord? But there was no hate when he thought of
Glorfindel, instead there was a strange affection, and rather than
fear, what he felt could probably be best categorized as respect.

How long this feeling would stay Legolas did not know, yet for this
moment of time, he felt at peace and content with his life. “Losto
vae, hîr nín,” Legolas murmured and relaxed against Glorfindel, his
eyes glazing over as he began to wander the dream-paths of reverie. He
did not hear the whispered answer of 'losto vae, pen vell', and did not
feel the gentle kiss that was pressed to his temple, but the paths his
fëa wandered led through lush, verdant clearings and were filled by
warm sunshine.


The next morning, a young Silvan servant brought them breakfast which
they ate in their talan. This time Legolas was careful not to allow
any of the honey into their hair, although Gîlríon pouted a little
when he was not allowed to put his fingers directly into the jar of
honey.

“What are your plans for today, my lord?” Legolas asked once they were
finally finished, and Gîlríon’s fingers cleaned.

“There are no plans yet for the morning – we will have the midday meal
with the Lord and the Lady, but until then, I thought we would simply
walk a little. Certainly Gîl would like to explore the Golden Wood?”

Both smiled at their son's insistent nod and soon they were walking
beneath the mellyrn, Gîlríon running before them and gathering those
stones and leaves he deemed were the most beautiful.

They stayed away from the parts of the wood where families had built
their telain, but the path they followed carried them to several
places where the Silvan and Sindarin elves of the wood were gathered –
the archery ranges, shallow ponds where youths were fishing, a hill of
large rocks where a silver-haired elf played the lute for an audience
of fellow musicians.

Finally they settled near a shallow brook, where drifts of small
flowers bloomed in abundance. Gîlríon played among them, gathering as
many different flowers as he could before a snail distracted him. When
he dropped the blossoms into his atto’s lap so that he could follow
the glistening trail the small animal had left, Glorfindel chuckled
and began to weave them into a wreath.

“Do not go too far!” Legolas told their son but stayed where he was,
sitting next to Glorfindel who was humming an old melody while his
fingers worked quickly on the wreath.

“Never fear, we will guard the little warrior for you!” a voice called
out in answer, and when Legolas looked up in surprise, he saw that two
of Glorfindel’s guards had joined them. With some embarrassment he
noted that they were the two elves whom he had overheard that night in
the mountains – Fairion and Laindir.

This time, though, they did not speculate about what might happen
between him and their captain at night. Instead, they squatted down
next to where Gîlríon was watching the snail and soon engrossed him
with a game.

When he suddenly felt something touch his hair, Legolas looked up in
surprise. He had been so busy watching the guards that he had
forgotten what Glorfindel was doing, and apparently the wreath made of
the small flowers that Gîl had gathered was now resting on his head.

Glorfindel chuckled at his expression, and Legolas gave him a small,
uncertain smile while he touched the wreath with one hand. He bit his
lip, not quite certain how to react to this, but then, almost
reluctantly, his smile got warmer and he leaned towards Glorfindel to
quickly kiss him, not daring to meet his eyes afterwards.

"How sweet,“ a cold voice interrupted them. “What a loving little
family you have made for yourself, Legolas – adar should be glad that
he got rid of you.”

Legolas winced, but then he forced himself to take a deep breath
before he slowly looked up, taking in the familiar form of his brother
Galuron who stood glowering at them from the path. His hair was paler
even than Legolas’s tresses, and while his face was narrower, his
build lighter than that of his sire, he bore himself with the same
arrogant confidence.

“Galuron! I am glad to see that you are well.” Legolas smiled at his
brother, although at that moment he felt more like running away, and
then got up to walk towards where Gîlríon was playing with the guards.
They had immediately moved their hands to their weapons and watched
warily when Legolas took his son’s hand to gently lead him towards the
other Sinda.

“This is my brother, tôr adarech Galuron, Gîl. Say hello to him,”
Legolas instructed gently.

“Mae govannen, tôr adaren!” Gîlríon said readily, staring at the blond
elf with a mixture of fascination and unease. “Your brother, ada? Does
atto have a brother, too?”

“No... you only have two uncles, Gîl, my brothers Galuron and
Celeirdúr,” Legolas assured his son, who seemed intimidated by the
scowl on his new uncle’s face.

“So it is all true... Do you not care about the shame you have caused
adar? To see a son of the Great Greenwood’s king sink so low – ai,
what shame you bring to our house! Whence comes this weakness in you?
I would rather have died than become a whore to a Noldo!”

Legolas stiffened, then leaned down to tell Gîlríon to return to the
guards and play with them, as he had seen that Glorfindel had gotten
up to join them. Gîlríon gave him an unhappy look, his eyes starting
to fill with tears when he sensed that his ada was upset, but still
went obediently to the guards who had taken a few steps towards them
at Galuron’s insults.

“In front of my *son*, Galuron?” Legolas whispered agitatedly as soon as
his son had left them. “Hate me if you want, but to call me that in
front of my *son*? Even if you no longer consider me kin, I did not
believe you to be so needlessly cruel...”

“What do you call it then, traitor, to bend over for the enemy and to
let him get you with child only to run away to his realm once your
depravity becomes known? You have led to our downfall, Legolas –
because of you I am forced to live among these strange trees as a
hostage, far from my home and family and friends! And do you even know
what some of these Galadhrim did to Celeirdúr? Their Marchwarden told
me, he told me all the details – and he enjoyed it, Legolas! All of
this is your fault, *little brother*!

So do not think that I will pity you for spreading your legs for that
accursed Balrog-slayer when I can see for myself how you enjoy being
pampered and coddled by him! Just do not come crawling back once he
decides that he has gotten enough children – you are no longer welcome
in the Greenwood, and if I have any say in it, you will never set
another step into the wood again!”

“How dare you judge me!” Legolas whispered fiercely, straightening so
that he could answer his brother’s glare. As a child he would never
have dared standing up to Galuron, the older, smarter one, adored by
all of his teachers – but he was a child no more. For good or for ill,
he had changed, and although he was still not sure *what* he was, he
would no longer be frightened by such words of hate. What did he have
to lose, after all? Already he was exiled from the home of his
childhood... No, there was nothing Galuron could do now to hurt him
worse than it had hurt to be banished by his own father.

“You who have never known me! You who have never cared about what I
did! Did you ever think of your brother who spent his days out in the
wood with nothing but horses for company, while you had the finest
tutors and captains teaching you the art of politics and tactics of
battle? Where were you then? Where were you when I spent my begetting
days without my family’s smiles? Where were you when I was... *raped*,
when I called out for my ada to help me but was all alone...”

He broke off and turned away from the cold disbelief on the face of
his brother. Tears began to run down his face as he remembered the
terror of being pressed to the ground by the weight of a stranger who
cared nothing for his pain and fear.

"You are right, I am not your kin... I have never been. I know not
why, but I have always been unwanted, unloved. Call me a whore if you
must, I do not care – I have my son’s love, Galuron, and that is more
than I would ever have had in Mirkwood!”

Legolas flinched when a hand came to rest on his shoulder, then
relaxed when he realized that it was Glorfindel who had silently
waited behind him during their exchange.

“You will *never* insult him again,” Glorfindel said slowly, his voice
cold and threatening. “If I *ever* hear you calling him that again – or
if you ever hurt him again in front of our son, I will teach you a
lesson with my sword, *prince* – and hostage or not, I will not stop
until I hear your *screams* for mercy!”

“Fairion! Laindir!” he then called out. “Please bring my son back to
our talan; we will join you there shortly. And you, Galuron, will have
to excuse us... We have better things to do than to listen to your
poisoned words.”

His arm wrapped tightly around Legolas’ waist, Glorfindel led the
young Sinda away from the brook, neither of them looking back at
Galuron. Legolas was still weeping quietly at the memories this
dispute had brought back, and Glorfindel knew that he had to find a
deserted spot for him to calm himself as he did not want Gîlríon to
see his ada’s tears.

------------------------
Losto vae, hîr nín – Sleep well, my Lord
Losto vae, pen vell – Sleep well, dear one
tôr adarech – your father’s brother
tôr adaren – my father’s brother
atto – affectionate form of "father" [Quenya]
ada – affectionate form of "father" [Sindarin]
------------------------


30

"Why?" Legolas whispered brokenly, hiding his tear-stained face
against Glorfindel's shoulders once they stopped, safely away from any
who might overhear their conversation. "What have I ever done to make
him hate me so?"

"It is hard for him to see you so happy with me, your enemy,"
Glorfindel reasoned. "I can even understand that he sees it as
treason. Still, to behave so in front of our son, that was truly
uncalled for!"

Legolas shook his head, still crying in a mixture of pain, rage, and
grief. "No, it is not that... I do not care what he thinks of me now.
He knows nothing of me! But why, why was he never a brother to me when
I was a child?" he demanded in helpless anger. "What is it that made
them hate me so? I have always tried to be good, to win their love
somehow, but not once did my adar take me into his arms! They have no
right to judge me now, not when they have never cared abut me before!"

"Hush, little one... they are not worth your tears." Glorfindel tilted
Legolas' head up to gently kiss the salty liquid from his face. "I do
not know the reason either, but I do know that it could not have been
your fault, Legolas. *They* should feel pain, not you - there is
nothing a child could possibly do to rob it of its family's affection.
Or would you cease to love our Gîl if he were to destroy one of your
books by accident, or perhaps frighten your Lainiell?"

"No, of course not," Legolas sighed softly and rested his head against
Glorfindel's shoulder, feeling somewhat calmer now after these
reassurances, although he still had to fight against his tears. "But
it is hard to believe that it was no fault of mine when I have spent
all of my childhood trying to find out how I was displeasing my adar.
I know that you are right, my lord, that there is nothing that should
have caused my adar to cease loving me. Perhaps then it is because he
has never loved me at all? Perhaps he has despised me since my birth,
and I will never find out."

"Perhaps one day you will meet your naneth in Valinor, and she will
tell you just why they have behaved so reprehensibly."

Legolas smiled sadly and shook his head. "No, my lord, I do not think
so... she did not sail west, and somehow, when I dared to ask, the
answers always made it seem like she was gone from us for all time,
and I would never meet her."

"That is strange indeed," Glorfindel mused, and once again reminded
himself to find out more about his young prince's mysterious past.

"There is not much known about her death to us in Imladris, although
there were rumors that she was attacked by orcs, just like our poor
Lady Celebrían - but our Lady eventually found peace in Valinor. I
wonder why it is thought in your wood that your mother would not be
granted such a fate?"

"I do not want to think about it," Legolas said softly. "I never knew
her... she abandoned me as well. No," he said, perking up as he gave
Glorfindel a smile that was still tinged by sadness. "They do not
matter to me now. I am yours, my lord, for as long as you want me, and
I have our Gîl to care for now. That is enough for me."

Glorfindel sighed softly. He could well understand Legolas' fears that
were hidden behing these words. /As long as I want him... and truly,
it is no wonder he phrases it that way, for he has no power, no rights
in this position that I have forced him into. Even if I were to tell
him that I would always keep him by my side, what reason would he have
to believe me?/

"Legolas..." he then ventured softly. "You know that if I were to meet
you today, without the anger and the pain of war to cloud my heart,
that I would not have forced you? It was - a dark time, for all of us.
Never before have I been known for such cruelty, and never again will
I cause you such torment." He sighed, then shook his head and gently
cupped Legolas' face in his palm. "I am sorry, pen vell," he
whispered, noticing how Legolas' eyes widened at the endearment. "It
should not have been like that, your first time... the madness of war
had darkened my heart, so much so that I almost killed you."

"Ai, so then why did you do it? What did I do to make you want to hurt
me so?" Legolas closed his eyes, trembling helplessly as he once again
was forced to face his memories. "I wanted to die after that. I would
*rather* have died than bear the shame of having my innocence so
cruelly taken from me."

Glorfindel drew him into his arms and held him tightly for a moment,
heartened to see that Legolas still clung to him for comfort, instead
of fearing him as he had then. "There was nothing you did, Legolas;
nothing but your beauty and your innocence, and the hate festering in
my heart ever since I had to watch one of my warriors being mistreated
by a company of yours...."

A single tear ran down Legolas' cheek. "I thought you were one of the
Valar when I first saw you... beautiful, magnificent like Ulmo risen
from the sea. I did not think you might harm me, you seemed so noble,
like a warrior lord of old, that I felt no fear, only awe..."

"And like a true lord, I should not have taken by force that which you
were unwilling to give. I am sorry," Glorfindel said again, gently
caressing Legolas' cheek.

"We cannot change the past, my lord... who knows what good may still
come of it," Legolas said bravely, moved by Glorfindel's words despite
himself. He did not know if he could simply accept Glorfindel's
apology and move on, but despite his misgivings, it felt good to hear
it nevertheless. "After all, the the war stopped because I was in your
power, and we have been given Gîl... What would have been my fate had
I never met you? Certainly I would still be guarding my father's
horses in the forest, while all around me that senseless war would
cost the lives of our warriors. And - you have been good to me, my
lord. You have taught me so much, all the things that should have been
my birthright in Mirkwood. Truly, my life is more like that of a
prince in Imladris than it ever was at home."

"You shall grow to be a warrior, Legolas, a prince strong and wise,
the pride of your people. I promise you this - I shall see your exile
lifted and you restored to your rightful position as prince of the
Great Forest," Glorfindel said earnestly and was glad to cause a small
smile.

"Ah, so that Gîlríon will stand in line for the throne of Mirkwood as
well?" Legolas could not resist teasing and was answered by a chuckle.

"No - I would see it lifted for your sake, Legolas."

"I do not believe that it will ever come to pass, but I do thank you,
my lord." Legolas sighed, for a moment closing his eyes to enjoy the
warmth and security of being enfolded in Glorfindel's arms. "But I
fear we will need to return soon, Gîl will be upset that we left him -
and did you not have further plans for the day?"

"Yes, we will - and you might have to face your brother again,"
Glorfindel said compassionately. "I do not know if the Lord and Lady
have invited him to share their meal."

Legolas took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and to appear
braver than he actually felt at the prospect of meeting his brother
again. "I do not fear him, my lord. As long as he does not hurt our
Gîl again, he can think whatever he wants. And I think that even he
knows better than to cause strife at our hosts' table."

"Then come, my brave one." Glorfindel moved to quickly steal a kiss
from a surprised Legolas, noting in satisfaction that for a moment
Legolas forgot about his worries. "Let us go and reassure our
impatient little star, and then put some more meat on your bones, so
that we can spar later without me having to fear breaking you."

Legolas smiled and turned towards where they had left the path, but
just at that moment Glorfindel's expression changed as he gave the
Sinda a thoughtful look.

"If I think about it, I should rather make use of this sudden moment
of privacy... on your knees!" he then purred, resting one hand on
Legolas' shoulder to gently push him down. "You are still mine,
despite my promise, and you will still fulfill your duties... won't
you, *prince*?"

"Yes, my lord," Leglas answered breathlessly, his hands moving to open
the lacing of Glorfindel's leggings before he even realized what he
was doing. Glorfindel was definitely right... he *was* his, whether he
liked it or not, and his body knew its master. It had only taken that
dark, seductive purr to arouse him, although he knew that chances were
that he would not be granted release until late that night.

Legolas carefully freed the large shaft, then took the tip into his
mouth, sucking gently while he allowed his fingers to play with the
heavy scrotum. When he let him slide deeper into his mouth he was
rewarded by a low groan, and the bitter tang of the first few droplets
of Glorfindel's essence.

Suddenly, Legolas remembered how Celeirdúr had found him in a similar
position - on his knees, with his lord's member in his mouth as he
serviced him. For a moment, fear flared up in him at the thought that
Galuron might still be around, but then he calmed himself - Glorfindel
would not do that to him, not now.

No, this was for Glorfindel's pleasure alone, and probably also to
make him realize that despite his lord's promise to see him restored
as a prince, he was still Glorfindel's, to do with as he pleased.
After all, what better way to exert dominance? There was nothing that
made Legolas feel more submissive than kneeling before Glorfindel,
trying his best to accept his lord's swollen length deep into his
throat while using lips and tongue to give him pleasure until his jaws
felt sore from exertion.

When Glorfindel finally spilled himself with another groan, Legolas
was quick to swallow as much as he could, cleaning off what he had
missed with his tongue before he dutifully helped his lord to dress
again.

"Yes... *now* we can go," Glorfindel said with a rather roguish grin,
well aware that their activity had not left Legolas unaffected. "And
behave during the meal, unless you want to shock your brother with
this display..." He arched an eyebrow as he gave Legolas' groin a
pointed look, causing the prince to flush, and to pray that the walk
back to their talan would take care of his uncomfortable present
situation.

--------------------
adar - father
naneth - mother
pen vell - dear one
----------------------

to be continued...




31

During the walk back to their talan, Legolas was mostly silent, trying
to will away his erection without much success, as the arm that was
wrapped around his waist as well as the soft, dark voice of his lord
kept him aroused despite himself. Never had he been more grateful for
the new clothes that he had been given, as the long tunic of heavy
brocade hid his current state from the eyes of the Silvan elves they
passed on their way.

It was only when they finally reached their destination that he
realized that this particular trial would not be over so soon. The two
guards were sitting on the floor of their talan, and Legolas tried to
pull down the hemline of his tunic even more. Yet it seemed that at
least for the moment, he was safe from this particular embarrassment.
The two Noldor were completely focused on their young charge, who
seemed to have forgotten about their earlier troubles as he squealed
in delight at Fairion's antics.

Legolas smiled in relief at seeing him so happy, and then moved on to
their bedroom to change into more formal clothes for the meal at the
royal table, while Glorfindel went to the bathroom to quickly clean
himself. They did not have much time before they were expected, and so
it was well that Glorfindel's warriors had managed to distract their
son, as there was no time to reassure him or answer his questions now.

In their bedroom, Legolas pulled the tunic over his head and stared at
his reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall. The slight curve
at the front of his leggings made it very obvious that he was still
aroused, and he groaned at the dampness he felt when he pressed his
fingers against it to alleviate the ache of his demanding flesh. He
could not appear this way in front of the Lady - he would have to
change into another pair of leggings, and somehow control himself so
that that pair would not be ruined as well.

With a sigh he stripped and rummaged through the chest they had
brought, taking out a pair of light grey leggings and a white tunic
that was embroidered with silver threads and small, glistening pearls.
After another critical look into the mirror he undid the slender
braids of youth that he was now permitted to wear. While Glorfindel
still preferred to see him with his hair loose, that informality was
now mostly reserved for the privacy of their rooms. He then took
Glorfindel's golden brush, blushing slightly at the memories this tool
held for him, and quickly brushed his hair until it fell silky and
straight down his back once more. After a moment's hesitation, he
gathered some strands and braided them in the fashion of the royal
line of Mirkwood before he took his leggings from the bed to slip into
them.

Glorfindel chose that exact moment to enter the bedroom, laughing
softly when his eyes fell on Legolas' still half-hard shaft.

"Ah, hungry for me... I like that!" he purred as he stepped up to the
still naked youth to pull him against his chest, cradling his genitals
in his palm. Legolas groaned softly and leaned against him, his breath
coming faster as he was touched so intimately.

"Ai... Please, do not," he moaned softly. "I will come if you touch
me, my lord!"

Glorfindel chuckled and pressed a teasing kiss to the tip of Legolas'
ear. "No, you will not come - and do you know why that is?"

"Because you like to torment me," Legolas groaned miserably.
Glorfindel chuckled again and gently bit the ear. He then sucked on it
until he felt the Sinda's length hardening even more.

"What would you like, Legolas?" he then whispered gently into his ear.
"Tell me - what would you like me to do to you right now?"

"Ai... do not tease me, my lord!" Legolas' cheeks reddened as he
rested helplessly against Glorfindel's chest.

"Tell me, Legolas. Tell me, and if you are good, then later I might
make your wish come true. " Glorfindel continued to breathe into
Legolas' ear, smiling knowingly when the youth closed his eyes and let
out a trembling moan.

"I - I would like to sit on your lap, having you take me like that...
with me moving on you," Legolas admitted, flushed and fully aroused
now as he trembled in Glorfindel's arms.

"Ahh, yes... riding me. I think I will like that, watching you impale
yourself on me for your own pleasure..." Glorfindel laughed and let go
of Legolas, watching with amusement the disappointment that settled on
Legolas' face. "But that will come later, if you are good. Go dress
now while I look after Gîl, and do not forget that you will feel no
pleasure but by my hands... or", he lowered his voice with a wicked
grin, "by my cock."

Legolas groaned in frustration at being left hard and wanting once
again. How was he supposed to appear before the Lord and Lady like
this? But he had sworn to obey, and so resigning himself to long hours
of unfulfilled desire, he meekly replied, "Yes, my lord."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time they had reached the royal talan, Legolas was no longer in
any danger of embarrassing himself. His feeling of dread at the
thought of meeting his brother again was more than adequate to quash
his desire.

When they entered the dining room, Galuron was already seated at the
table, next to several Lothlórien nobles whom, by the stately robes
they were wearing, Legolas took to be advisors. Ellonúr had also been
invited, but upon their entry he turned to the Lórien diplomat seated
beside him, and immediately struck up a conversation.

The Lord and Lady were seated as well, and Legolas found himself
answering Celeborn's smile as he remembered their conversation. He was
not quite certain what the Lady thought of this side of her mate, but
Legolas found himself strangely reassured when he thought of the
Lord's kind words.

Their own seats awaited them next to the Lord and Lady, and Legolas
was glad of Glorfindel's powerful presence next to him when he
realized that he sat directly across from his older brother. Galuron's
jaw had clenched and his eyes had narrowed when Legolas sat down, and
for a moment rage alighted in them - a rage so deep that Legolas
flinched and lowered his eyes, disturbed by the depth of the dark
emotion that greeted him.

It took a moment for Legolas to realize just why his brother had been
so deeply affected by seeing him again. Apparently Galuron had been
outraged by the display of the royal insignia, the elaborate braids
that fell from Legolas' temples and signified him as a member of the
ruling house of Mirkwood. They were the same braids that Galuron
himself was wearing, and for a moment Legolas faltered when he
realized how similar they now looked - two princes of the Woodland
Realm, arrayed in rich garments and wearing the royal braids.

Legolas could not help but remember the day his father had exiled him.
What would happen if his father could see him now? Would he see him as
a traitor - with his treason magnified by his flaunting of the royal
braids? Would he truly take his sword to slay his youngest child as he
had once threatened?

Legolas straightened, and while he did not meet his brother's gaze
again, he held himself proudly upright, his stance an obvious answer
to Galuron's indignation as he refused to be cowed. He would no longer
torment himself with these questions - and he would not allow his
brother to do so, either.

Perhaps it was Glorfindel's earlier threat, or perhaps Galuron's
late-found sense of decorum, but after his initial angry reaction, the
prince pretended that Legolas did not exist. Legolas was glad of it,
and focused his attention on his son.

After a furtive glance at Galuron, Gîlríon had quickly been diverted
by the colorful dishes, many of them exotic for a child that had spent
all of his short life at the haven of Imladris. While Elrond's table
could boast of a variety of dishes influenced by the many kindreds of
elves that had taken refuge there an age ago, Lórien's fare was vastly
influenced by its Lady, whose palate still remembered feasts in the
Blessed Realm.

Excited by all that was new to him, Gîlríon demanded to know both the
name and the ingredients of every of the exotic dishes, and when
Legolas had to admit in embarrassment that the served victuals were
unfamiliar to him as well, Celeborn immediately took over, satisfying
the child's curiosity by naming every dish before him.

This way, the meal passed mostly uneventfully. It was only when
dessert was served that things began to heat up again. After Celeborn
had patiently explained about Lothlórien's culinary specialties,
Gîlríon had begun to tell the Lord in his high, excited voice about
how he had met his tôr adar this morning, and at that reminder
Glorfindel gave Galuron an angry look. Legolas had frozen, uncertain
if he should intervene, but before he could stop his son, Gîlríon was
recounting the strange events that had made him feel confused and
upset.

"And then," the child said anxiously, turning from Celeborn to
Glorfindel, "then tôr adaren made ada cry. Why was he so mean to him,
atto? And what is a whore?"

Someone gasped loudly, while the rest of the gathered elves fell into
a shocked silence at Gîlríon's question.

Legolas sat frozen at the table, pale as freshly fallen snow, and did
not dare to raise his eyes from where they rested now on his plate.
His fingers were clenched so tightly around the cutlery that they
trembled, and he knew that if he heard even one word of gloating from
his brother, he would leap at him - leap at him, and drive the sharp
knife into his hateful heart.

-----------------------
tôr adar - father's brother
tôr adaren - my father's brother
atto - affectionate form of "father" [Quenya]
ada - affectionate form of "father" [Sindarin]
-----------------------

32

“It is a shameful name and a lie", Glorfindel said to his son through
gritted teeth. "It is something your tôr adar said to hurt your adar,
because your tôr adar has not yet learned how to behave as a prince
Like you said, Gîl nín, it was something he said because he wanted to
make your ada cry. If he were a *true* prince, your tôr adar would kneel
now to beg for forgiveness for the insult!”

Glorfindel fixed Galuron with a look of such fierce anger that the
Sinda paled, but even in the face of Glorfindel’s formidable rage, the
pride instilled into the prince by his father and tutors alike could
not bear to be so chastised in front of Lothlórien’s rulers.

“Insult? It was nothing but the truth!” Galuron spat, leaning forward
to glower at his brother. “He is an abomination, cursed by the Valar
to be nothing but a broodmare to those stronger than him. Ai, adar
should have left you in the forest after your birth for the Wargs to
find!”

“Enough!” No longer able to just silently bear his brother’s insults,
Legolas sprang up. “You will not talk to me so in front of my son!
Have you no shame, Galuron? I will meet you on the training field with
a sword, if you so desire, but to upset my son should be below even
the likes of you!”

“Nay, first it is *my* right to demand satisfaction!” Glorfindel
growled, and stood as well. His muscles tensed as he stared at the
prince, ready to lunge at him at the next provocation. “Have I not
warned you before? You will either meet me with your sword this eve,
or apologize to Legolas right now!”

“Never will I apologize to that *abomination*!” Galuron’s face was
flushed with anger, and he clenched his fingers to fists as if he were
preparing for an attack, getting up as well to glare at Glorfindel.

Confused and upset, Gîlríon made a frightened sound. His lips trembled
as he looked at his parents, and tears began to roll down his cheeks.
Pushing down the urge to lash out at his brother, Legolas sat down
again and drew Gîlríon into his arms, trying to force himself to be
calm so that he could soothe his upset child.

“That is enough!” Celeborn stood up, giving them all a stern look.
“This is no way to act at table - especially in front of a child, son
of Thranduil! I would very much appreciate it if in the future you
were to take your quarrels elsewhere, instead of burdening my Lady
with it!”

Galuron scowled but nevertheless sat down, although his expression
still showed the hatred he felt for both Glorfindel and his brother.
The seneschal refused to follow his example, and instead took a step
to the side so that he came to stand behind Legolas, to glower at
Galuron from that position. On either side of Galuron, the advisors
stared fixedly at their plates, anxious not to incur their lord's
disfavor as well. Further down the table, a few were perched stiffly
at the edges of their seats, obviously uncomfortable with being forced
to witness the quarrel between the princes and looking as if they were
only waiting for a chance to ask the Lady’s leave to flee the talan.

Galadriel rested one hand on her husband’s arm. “Sit down again,
hervenn. Let us try not to frighten Gîlríon even more.” For a moment
her gaze rested on Legolas, who was still holding his son in his arms.
For one heartbeat, it almost felt to the prince as if a wave of
comforting warmth enveloped him, but then her gaze moved on to now
focus on his brother.

Gîlríon had suddenly quieted in Legolas’ protective embrace, as if he
had experienced the same calming feeling, and when Legolas looked up
again, he found that his brother looked subdued as well. His face was
still flushed with anger, but he seemed capable of controlling himself
now. Legolas found himself wondering if the calming presence he had
felt had perhaps been a manifestation of the Lady’s power. His
brother, however, did not look at peace - his look was more alike to
those he wore after enduring Thranduil’s harsh criticism, and Legolas
smiled slowly as he thought that this was perhaps just what he had
endured from the Lady as well.

“I am most surprised,” Galadriel said gently, although her voice held
a strange undercurrent of power, “that you hold the blessings of your
heritage in such disregard in the Greenwood. It pains me to hear you
insult the Valar so, Galuron; you would do well to realize that by
continuing to slight their gift as a curse, you might one day incur
their wrath.”

Then she turned, giving Legolas a smile that seemed to him as warm and
brilliant as the rays of the sun. “Tell me, Legolas, do you think of
your gift as a curse as well?”

“No, my Lady,” Legolas said slowly and gave her a hesitant smile
before he pressed a kiss to Gîlríon’s temple. His son only yawned in
reaction, drowsing against Legolas’ chest as if he had already
forgotten about his earlier upset. “This is not what I might have
chosen for myself, but... No,” he repeated thoughtfully. He still
remembered the humiliation and pain he had been forced to endure
because of the gift, but would he truly change all of that if he had
the power - if to do so meant that Gîlríon would not have been born?
“No, our Gîl is no curse. You are right, we have been blessed,” he
said firmly and held Gîlríon tightly embraced.

“Yes... our son is a blessing,” Glorfindel agreed softly and tenderly
rested his hand on Legolas’ shoulder.

“Indeed, that he is... perhaps more than you know, Lord Glorfindel.”
Galadriel’s eyes gleamed with joy as she beheld the small family in
front of her. “The Valar have not forgotten your noble sacrifice, nor
have they failed to see the centuries of devoted service you have
rendered the house of Eärendil.”

Then she once again rested her eyes on Legolas. “You are right not to
believe your brother’s words. It is no curse at all, but a blessing of
your line. Has it truly been forgotten in the realm of Thranduil how
there were once two warriors in the service of Elu Thingol who loved
each other? Their love for each other was so strong that Melian
herself asked the Valar to grant these two the one thing that they
both craved, but was not possible - a child born from their love."

“The Valar blessed the union of these two with a child, Legolas, and
this gift still runs true in the blood of their descendents. It is sad
indeed that your father no longer realizes this blessing for what it
is and calls it a curse. So much darkness has befallen our people; we
should be even more thankful for the wonder that your son is. Never
forget that the Valar have blessed you, Legolas. Never forget that you
bear the legacy of a love that was so pure that it moved even the
Valar to compassion.”

“Nobody ever told me that story,” Legolas whispered, awed by what he
had heard. He had stopped trying to think about why he had been able
to bear a child although he was male, as he had always feared that it
might have truly been a curse, that this might have been the reason
why his father had never been able to love him like his other sons.

Galuron scowled. “Fairy tales meant for children!” he sneered, but
quickly fell silent when once again the eyes of the Lady came to rest
on him.

“Please excuse me,” a voice unheard so far broke the ensuing silence.
“I am still very tired from the journey. By your leave, I think I
shall return to my talan for now, my Lady.”

“Of course, Ellonúr,” the Lady agreed. “Perhaps you would join me in
my gardens for a walk this evening?”

The advisor hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Certainly, my Lady.
If you will excuse me now...” He stood and then left the talan without
another word.

Legolas frowned. From what he had observed of the advisor so far, he
was not one to flee a conflict – on the contrary, would he not be
delighted to see Legolas insulted? After all, the advisor still had to
remember how Glorfindel had rejected him for a mere Sindarin captive.
Yet one glance at Glorfindel was enough to tell Legolas that there
might be more behind this which he did not understand. Where the Lady
looked thoughtful, Glorfindel seemed sad, although he had only moments
ago observed their sleeping son with such unadulterated joy.

“We shall leave as well, my Lady, my Lord,” Glorfindel excused
themselves after he had watched Ellonúr leave. “As you can see, our
son is in need of his bed, and I fear that the day has already held
enough excitement for him.”

“Of course, my friend!” Celeborn stood as well to accompany them to
the spiraling stairs that led down to the ground. At his movement,
most of the gathered advisors hastily followed Ellonúr’s example and
got up to take their leave as well. “Would you join me again this
evening for some wine? There is still much for us to discuss.”

“I might – although I might also be busy at your training grounds,
practicing with my sword,” Glorfindel said with a soft growl, turning
his head to glare at Galuron who haughtily lifted his head.

“Careful, Glorfindel – my Lady will not allow more of this quarrel.
But still...” Celeborn lowered his voice to a whisper, “I personally
would not mind seeing you teaching that impertinent prince a lesson
with your sword. Just take care that it is only his pride that is
wounded.” He grinned, but quickly smothered that expression when his
wife turned her head towards him. After a clap to Glorfindel’s
shoulder he turned back to listen to Galuron stiffly thanking him for
the meal, while Legolas and Glorfindel descended the stairs carrying
their still sleeping son.

--------------------
tôr adar – father’s brother
adar – father
hervenn – husband


33

Glorfindel gave Legolas a thoughtful look. The young Sinda still knelt
next to the small bed where their son was now slumbering, watching him
with a pensive smile. At the moment, Legolas seemed at peace, but
Glorfindel wondered whether that was truly the case. Certainly Legolas
had been hurt by his brother’s words, hurt more than even the
reassuring words of the Lady of Light were able to heal.

Strangely enough, Glorfindel found himself no longer angry at Galuron
– at the moment, his thoughts were fully occupied by Legolas, and he
felt a strange sadness taking hold of his heart. When had this
happened, he wondered? When had his feelings changed so much? When had
the slave he had loved to hurt become so dear to him that he knew he
would protect him with all his strength?

No, he was asking the wrong questions. If he were honest – and the
time to lie to himself had passed long ago – he would admit that
Legolas meant more to him than he would ever have been able to imagine
that day he first saw him. Galadriel had seen that as well – why else
would she have insinuated that their meeting had been preordained, a
reward for his sacrifice in defending Gondolin? Glorfindel might shy
away from the thought that his hurting Legolas had all been a part of
some large plan, yet he knew better than to disavow the Lady’s words.

But now was not the time for thoughts such as these. Later maybe, he
would share his thoughts with Celeborn, who was called ‘the Wise’ not
without reason. Now it was time to distract Legolas from his own
thoughts. His brother’s words had wounded him, that much was obvious,
but instead of allowing the youth to brood and let the bitterness in
him fester, it was time for a different approach.

"Let him sleep,“ Glorfindel said gently. He bent down to press a
loving kiss to Gîlríon’s brow before he straightened again, taking
Legolas’ hand to pull him back towards their own bed. “He needs his
rest – and I think we can make good use of a quiet hour. Unless you
would rather wait until tonight, or maybe tomorrow, to have me grant
your wish?”

When Legolas flushed and shook his head, Glorfindel chuckled, then let
go of his hand as he sat down on the bed, giving Legolas a slow smile.
“Come here,” he ordered and patted the space next to him, indicating
for the youth to join him on the bed.

Legolas looked at him, confused that for once he would not be told to
strip first, as Glorfindel usually enjoyed it to see him slowly baring
his naked body for his lord’s pleasure. But apparantly this was not
what Glorfindel wanted today, and Legolas knew better than to disobey
– especially when he was about to be given a reward.

“Come,” Glorfindel repeated and then pulled Legolas down onto the bed,
so that they were resting next to each other. With a sigh, Glorfindel
buried his face in Legolas’ hair and breathed in deeply. In turn, the
prince’s heart began to beat hard and fast in his chest at the sudden
closeness. It was overwhelming, always – no matter how many times he
lay beneath his lord, feeling his strong body, breathing his scent, it
overcame him like potent wine and rendered him incapable of thought
while his body yearned for Glorfindel’s touch.

“Tell me... are you aching for me already?” Glorfindel breathed, and
Legolas flushed even before his lord’s fingers were pressing against
the fabric that covered his hardened flesh.

“Yes, I ache,” Legolas whispered with a soft, plaintive moan while his
length was being skillfully massaged. “Please... do not tease me!”

“Do not fear.” Glorfindel smiled and then moved to cover Legolas’ lips
with his own, kissing him so sweetly and tenderly that Legolas feared
his heart would burst from the ache. For a moment he wondered if
gentleness was not worse – to be treated with such affection by the
one who should be his enemy, while his own brother hated him. But then
Glorfindel tugged open the lacing of his leggings, and the feel of the
warm, strong fingers right against his most sensitive parts made him
forget his thoughts as he moaned again.

“Beautiful...” Glorfindel breathed against his arched throat, then
lapped at the expanse of pale skin to taste him, humming in approval
of the enticing mixture of sweet oil and the tang of sweat. “I will
exhaust you today, my sweet one – I will have you ride me until you
are as sweaty as after a round of sparring, and you will not be
allowed release until your thighs and flanks tremble with exhaustion,
like a horse ridden nearly to death. And even then...” He paused,
cherishing how Legolas’ breath had quickened and his lips were parted,
glistening wetly and beckoning to be used. “Yes, and even then I will
not allow you to come until you beg me for it, beg and plead until I
finally grant you your release. And you, my wanton little colt, you
will come without a single touch from me, moaning and trembling as you
find your pleasure solely from impaling yourself on me.”

By now Legolas was whimpering. He had grown impossibly harder in
Glorfindel’s warm palm, and his eyes were soft and dark with hunger.
“Yes, lord,” he whispered, “yes, please!”

Glorfindel gave him another lazy smile, well pleased with his
reaction. “Then undress, if you want that, and take off my clothes as
well!”

With only the softest, yearning sigh to betray his need, Legolas stood
and took off his clothes, as his lord had commanded. Then, he began
with the one task that never failed to move him – unclothing the Lord
of the Golden Flower. Truly, the Elda was magnificent – and compared
to himself, like a noble charger next to a starved peasant’s pony,
Legolas could not help to think. When clothed in his blue tunic and
golden armor, Glorfindel was a vision to behold, all grace and deadly
power, coupled with the otherwordly glow of his fëa and the bright
eyes of one who had dwelt in the Halls of Mandos and been granted the
grace of rebirth.

Yet this Glorfindel was even more intimidating – the Glorfindel only a
very few were allowed to see. Gloriously naked, golden skin stretching
over taut muscles, golden locks flowing freely onto the pillow, and
between his legs, his swollen member, hard and dark with blood, and
huge...

Legolas flushed when he realized that he had been staring at his lord,
and bowed his head to escape the amused look he knew he had earned
himself. Instead, he rested his hand on Glorfindel’s chest, fingers
splayed wide, to feel the powerful muscles bulge beneath him. “Like
one of the Valar,” he whispered in awe, keeping his eyes averted in a
sudden spell of shyness. But it was the truth – if only his brother
saw Glorfindel like this, he certainly would no longer be able to find
fault with Legolas! It was impossible not to surrender to the lord, to
not feel awed by his ancient power and the natural mastery he
exuded...

“Then worship me, my beauty,” Glorfindel said and raised Legolas’ chin
so that their eyes finally met. “Worship me, in the way you have
begged for. There is, after all, no one better suited to the task than
the most beautiful prince of the Mortal Lands, the one whose soul
shines so brightly with his innocence and sweetness...”

Nay, naïveté and weakness, if you were to ask my brother, Legolas
could not help but think. Yet the lord's words had touched him. “You
flatter me,” he whispered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at
both endearment and praise, although his eyes shone with a shy
pleasure.

“’’tis no flattery!“ Glorfindel disagreed, his smile widening as he
openly appraised the bared body of the prince, allowing his eyes to
linger for a moment on the slender column of flesh that arched out
from the Sinda’s body. “No, you are truly a beauteous vision to
behold! But even more than this, I want to behold you trembling above
me, crying out your pleasure.”

“Your command is my pleasure, oh lord,” Legolas said and delighted in
the chuckle this repartee produced.

“Less words, more action now, roch neth,” Glorfindel then said in a
husky purr, sprawling back among the many cushions in an obvious
invitation for Legolas to take the initiative.

And by now, Legolas was aroused enough to simply crawl over to his
lord and impale himself – if it were not for the small part of him
that was not yet so far gone as to not be embarrassed to death by such
an action. No, he would have to start in another way... and he knew a
way that had always been Glorfindel’s favorite.

Slowly, he moved in between Glorfindel’s spread legs, taking care to
keep his movements graceful and making certain that his long hair was
dragging over Glorfindel’s thighs, teasing the sensitive skin in the
most delicious way. When this produced a soft sigh of obvious
enjoyment, he grew more daring and actually allowed his hair to fall
forward so that the soft, silky mass pooled around Glorfindel’s
hardened length. This caress now produced a groan, and Legolas smiled.
“Do I please you, lord?” he asked coyly, and found his answer in a
hand that wrapped around his hair and tugged him down in an
unmistakable command. Legolas laughed softly, more than content with
the reaction, and then bent to his task, teasing the head of
Glorfindel’s erection with kittenish laps of his tongue until his
lord’s moans grew in volume, and he could taste that first tang of
arousal on his tongue.

Already Legolas had prepared himself with oil, as his lord asked him
to do every day, but for good measure he took Glorfindel’s shaft deep
into his mouth to get him slick with saliva, before he finally let him
slip out again. Then he looked up, searching Glorfindel’s face for any
sign that his action might have displeased. This was the first time he
could remember that he was allowed to take control like this in bed –
even if it was only control over his own submission – and although he
knew that Glorfindel would not hesitate to tell him if he did wrong,
he still felt a light sense of insecurity.

But Glorfindel did not look displeased at all. Instead, he was giving
him a hungry look from half-closed eyes, and when Legolas failed to
act, uttered an impatient sigh. “Well?” he asked huskily. “Will you
not take your reward, my prince?”

“Certainly, my lord,” Legolas answered, his voice breathy with
excitement as he positioned himself and then, finally, slowly sank
down. The air escaped his lungs in a long, drawn-out moan; the
pleasure of being invaded in such a way was too keen to be suffered
silently. There was pain as well – Glorfindel was just too large for
it to not hurt without more preparation, and the welts on his skin
still felt uncomfortably sore. But the pain paled at the sensation of
being filled so completely... of seeing his lord close his eyes and
groan in pleasure.

“Oh, Valar!” Legolas breathed when he was at last seated on
Glorfindel’s thighs, his back arched and his head thrown back so that
his hair once again teased over Glorfindel’s skin. He was filled,
taken, helpless with pleasure and he trembled just like Glorfindel had
foretold he would, his heart beating impossibly fast as his body, his
soul even were bared, possessed in this most intimate way.

This seemed to be so much more than could be described by the mere
word "pleasure" - this felt as if it would rend his fëa apart if it
ended, and yet would lead to the same gruesome close if they did not
finish it soon, in a burst of ecstasy so bright it would take away
their breath.

“Ai, Elbereth!” Legolas whimpered, already moving and growing more and
more undone each time Glorfindel’s shaft brushed against that
well-known place deep inside him. There was nothing that could stop
him now - no command or threat of punishment, not even if he were told
that their coupling would produce another child. Not now, not when it
felt like he would die without the painful intensity of being taken by
Glorfindel, stretched, opened, being made to surrender to the one who
had once and for all proven that he was lord not only of his body, but
of his fëa as well.

Glorfindel’s name was no more than a sob on his lips by the time he
came, shaking and clenching around Glorfindel who found his pleasure
at the same time. Long moments passed, and by the time conscious
thought returned to Legolas, he was resting on top of Glorfindel,
safely ensconced in his arms with their lips almost touching, sharing
each other’s breath.

“Forgive me, my lord,” Legolas finally sighed, although he still felt
too exhausted to move. “I did not wait for your command... I am sorry!
But... it just was too much...”

Glorfindel chuckled softly. “My poor little prince. I fear that this
transgression will have to be punished, do you not agree?”

“Yes, lord,” Legolas muttered, keeping his eyes averted.

“It will wait until tomorrow morning, though. I think it might please
me to redraw those red lines on your bottom – you heal too fast for my
decorations, roch neth.”

Legolas sighed in weary acceptance, and finally looked up to meet his
lord’s gaze, reassured by that fact that there was no trace of anger
or disappointment to be found in his voice. “As you wish, my lord.”

Glorfindel’s eyes were calm and peaceful, and he pressed a tender kiss
to Legolas’ brow. “Rest, dear one... rest for now,” he whispered, and
Legolas nodded. Soon they would have to get up again and clean
themselves, but for now he was content to rest like this, with the
scent of their lovemaking still heavy in the air and their sweat
slowly drying on their skin.


-----------------
roch neth - colt
fëa - soul/spirit
-----------------


34


It was dark when Legolas woke, and for a moment he felt disoriented,
as if somebody or something had called out to him. There was a strange
sense of urgency in him, a feeling of being needed somewhere, yet all
around him everything was quiet, and Glorfindel held him securely in
his arms.

Still feeling uneasy, Legolas carefully disentangled himself from his
lord’s limbs and sat up to light the candle on his nightstand. The
room gave him no answers; everything was silent and undisturbed.
Glorfindel slept on – that was unusual, and Legolas frowned. His
movements should have been enough to wake the warrior, yet despite his
unease, Legolas felt that he should not wake him. He did not know what
was happening, but he could not change the feeling that he was awake
for a reason, and that this reason concerned only him.

Slowly, he got up. He was naked, and he knew that his skin still bore
the scent of their sweat and their passion, but whatever was happening
was important enough that he simply slipped an unadorned, pale robe
over his head without bothering to wash.

Although the call was strong now, he hesitated to leave their talan.
Finally, he quickly moved back to their bed, kneeling next to it and
raising a hand to gently stroke over the mane of golden hair that
framed his lord’s face. He did not get to see him this unguarded very
often; his warrior’s reflexes ensured that Glorfindel woke when
Legolas did. But now, Glorfindel was relaxed and deeply asleep, his
blue eyes unfocused as he wandered the paths of his dreams.

Often, Legolas had heard a sleeping person described as
vulnerable-looking, yet that was not a word he would have ever used
for the Lord of the Golden Flower. Even in reverie, Glorfindel was
magnificent; like a lion asleep he was threatening even at his most
relaxed, beautiful and lethal.

“Sleep, my lord,” Legolas whispered and leaned forward to gently brush
his lips against Glorfindel’s. “Sleep and do not worry – I shall be in
your arms once more when you awake.”

Then he stood and left the talan, feeling secure in the knowledge that
both Glorfindel and Gîlríon were deeply asleep and felt nothing of the
strong call that had woken him, even though he did not know how he
came by that knowledge.

Outside, it was dark as well – Ithil was not visible in the sky this
night, yet Elbereth’s gift, the multitude of stars, shone all the
brighter for it. And the light was enough for Legolas who walked along
thin bridges and steep stairs with the security of one who was not
sure if he was not walking through the landscape of a dream after all.

Yet very soon, Legolas had reached the forest floor, leaving behind
the telain where elves were fast asleep. This part of the forest was
filled by the incandescent luminance of the stars to such an extent
that it almost seemed as if each blade of grass, each leaf and branch
were glowing. The thick moss beneath his bare feet was cold and wet,
yet it felt unbearably good as it caressed his toes. There was a
strange power at work here, Legolas was certain of that, and although
he had no idea what was happening to him ever since he had woken, he
knew what had brought him there as soon as he entered the glade where
Galadriel waited for him at her Mirror – and perhaps he had known all
along. A deep sense of preordination filled him, and he slowly walked
towards the Lady of Light, bowing his head in greeting as he reached
her.

“Greetings, child,” the Lady said, and like the grass, it seemed to
Legolas as if her voice was glowing as well. “I know that you have
questions. If it is your desire, you shall look into my Mirror.”

“Will it show me answers?” Legolas whispered, staring in awe at the
calm surface of the water that seemed not only to mirror the light of
the stars but to glow with the same power, as if one of the stars had
chosen to sleep within the Mirror instead of joining its brethren in
the night sky.

“Answers, questions, riddles – sometimes they can be one and the same.
You will see what was, what is, and what might be – yet often, things
are different than they might appear. You might come by knowledge you
do not wish to have. No one will blame you if you choose not to look.”

Legolas was silent for a time. “I thank you, my Lady,” he finally
spoke again. “It is true, there are many things that I would not like
to see, and perhaps it would indeed be better for me to leave this
glade without looking – yet for all of my life, there have been
secrets that have been kept hidden from me. If I let this chance pass,
I fear that I will always rue it. No, I shall look into your Mirror,
Lady, and see whatever visions the Valar send me, even though they
might hurt me. I would have the truth that my father always denied
me.”

Galadriel smiled, and gently touched his cheek. “Fear not, son of
Thranduil. The Valar have blessed you – there shall come a day when
you will know all that you have always wished to know. Now come, child
of the Great Wood, step closer and look into my Mirror.”

Slowly, Legolas did as he was told. He did not feel fear – it all
seemed unreal, like a dream that Glorfindel would wake him from any
moment now. Yet he did not wake when his hands touched the rim of the
bowl. Instead, the stars mirrored on the water’s surface began to move
and rearrange, showing other constellations and paling as Tilion began
his nightly journey among them.

The stars were shining down onto a dense forest – it was Mirkwood,
although it had not yet come to be called by that name. This was
Greenwood the Great, a light and airy forest of verdant leaves and
moss-covered glades, and in a clearing surrounded by ancient oaks and
beeches, he saw his father standing. He looked young, and happier than
Legolas had ever seen him before. He was holding the hands of a
lovely, young maiden – his mother, Legolas suddenly realized. Her
face, her hair... she looked just like him! And she could not have
been much older than he was now; she looked as if she had only just
reached the age of majority. Then the stars moved, and the moon waxed
and waned. The two elves were no longer alone; now they were
surrounded by a large crowd who wore festive clothes, while his
parents were clad in white and had flowers woven into their hair. Two
rings of gold gleamed on their fingers, and as they spoke, a light
filled their eyes.

As Legolas realized that he was witnessing the wedding of his parents,
the vision began to change, the stars paling as the brightness of Anor
filled the sky. It was a beautiful day, but it was no longer Mirkwood
he beheld – instead he saw mountains, higher than any mountains that
he had ever seen. He saw a city of white stones hidden among them, and
when he breathed the word, /Gondolin/ - for how could this be anything
else? – smoke shrouded his vision, smoke that came from the burning
city. And then there came fire, red and yellow flames that hissed and
burned, and at their center a shadow. Legolas gripped the rim of the
Mirror tighter and cried out, yet he could not look away when an elf
with golden hair and golden armor stepped forward, raising his sword
to bar the demon’s path.

“No, my Lord!” Legolas breathed in horror, reaching out as if to touch
Glorfindel. Yet the warrior was now gone, and with him the sun -
leaving Legolas in a vast cave, alone with the Balrog, who roared and
rushed towards him in a fury of flame. He saw himself, armed with a
bow, and behind him a grief-struck figure, small as a child, and a
sense of loss assailed him, a grief so unimaginable that he felt like
he was being torn apart.

And yet, in the blink of an eye, the dark cave was gone, and once more
Anor’s light filled his vision. The scene he saw was now familiar – it
was the lake in the forest, and he was guarding the horses. And there
was Glorfindel, coming out of the water, naked and wet and the epitome
of masculine beauty. Legolas trembled as he saw himself stare at the
stranger, and tried to force himself to close his eyes, but the Mirror
would not let him. /Ai, Valar, do not make me see this... I cannot
bear to see this! I will hate him if you make me live through this
again, and I cannot afford to hate him!/ Yet the Valar did not seem to
listen, for there they were, sitting beneath the apple trees,
Glorfindel’s arm slung around his shoulder, and then there it came,
his first kiss... 

Legolas sighed as he remembered what it had felt like, how pleasurable
it had been despite his surprise at the stranger’s action, and
resigned himself to witnessing how his innocence had been taken from
him by a Glorfindel who seemed so much darker, so much more ruthless
than the Glorfindel he now knew. Yet, something was different now...
there was no fight, he was not thrown to the ground, his clothes
ripped off. Instead, there were more kisses, gentle and sweet, and
Glorfindel leaning close to whisper words into his ear. From the shy
smile on his face, he was certain that these were words of praise and
adoration – words which Legolas had never heard before at that time in
his life. He shivered, feeling strangely betrayed as he saw himself
trustingly surrendering to Glorfindel who made love to him so gently
that he began to weep at being forced to witness this.

The scene in the Mirror grew blurry, but it was not caused by the
tears that slid down his cheeks – the image had changed and now showed
him pregnant, his belly swollen, seated next to Glorfindel at a table
in Imladris. Elrond was there as well, as were Celeborn and Haldir,
but Glorfindel did not pay them much attention as he smiled at
Legolas, resting his hand on his belly from time to time and trying to
feed him with small pieces of fruit while Legolas smiled and stole a
kiss from his lips. The elves around them seemed to be discussing
something, and there was his brother Galuron, obviously uncomfortable,
yet still signing his name on a piece of parchment that had already
been signed by Elrond.

Legolas’ eyes widened when he realized that there were slender rings
of silver gleaming on their index fingers. /Betrothed... nay, that
cannot be!/ he cried silently, shaking his head in disbelief and
horror, and then the image was gone, swept away by scenes of a battle
flashing by in rapid succession. There were orcs and warg-riders,
hideous creatures of darkness running through a forest - /Mirkwood/!
There was a battle, flying arrows and spears... and blood, blood
everywhere! Elves of Mirkwood were dying, helpless before the
onslaught, and soon the only ones left standing were Sauron’s
creatures.

A cry of unimaginable pain and grief filled Legolas’ ears, and for a
moment he feared he would be sick as in front of his shocked eyes, a
fair-haired Sindarin warrior was held down by two orcs and raped by a
third. Then another orc came, and another, and then, mercifully, the
image changed again.

Legolas was panting, his eyes wide and fearful as he tried to steel
himself for more horrors, yet what he saw next was a relief – a
pregnant elf lying on a bed with his face turned to the side, hidden
beneath the fall of his long, fair hair. A golden ring adorned the
forefinger of the hand that was resting on his belly. Legolas
recognized the window-less chamber – from the layout and decor, it
must be situated in the royal wing, and there was only one elf in all
of their family who had that exact hue of hair.

That was him then, a future vision of himself – pregnant again, but
then, he had always known that Glorfindel would want more children.
And certainly that price was not too high to pay if it meant that he
would be allowed back into his father’s realm, even given a room in
the royal wing. His father would forgive him one day - would one day
even love him!

Legolas tried to make the vision stay, begging for answers, begging
for something that would reassure him that it would indeed one day
happen that way, but he could not command the Mirror. The image
blurred and morphed, but there he was again, the fair-haired elf that
could only be his future self. Legolas sighed but then fell silent,
frozen with horror when the elf moved and revealed a face wounded so
horribly it was hardly recognizable as that of an elf anymore. Long,
deep scratches filled with dripping red blood gouged his face, and
more blood dripped from his fingernails which clawed the bedding. His
lips were bitten through and dripping blood as well, twisted into an
animalistic snarl of hate and agony. Then he opened his mouth in a
silent scream, screaming and screaming and twisting on the bed to
which he was bound until the blanket slipped down, and now it was
Legolas who screamed in horror as he saw the swollen belly dark and
disfigured and covered with oozing, dripping wounds and something
/moving/ inside it...

A healer was there, as was his father, his cheeks wet with tears and
his eyes filled with horror. The healer was gesturing towards the
pregnant elf, speaking fast, and Legolas thought that he understood
what the elf was saying... /Monster... cursed... tainted!/

The king shook his head violently, but the healer’s anguish only grew.
He took Thranduil’s shoulder, shaking him, and when the king closed
his eyes and seemed to almost fall apart from the force of his sobs,
the healer turned away and picked up a dagger, now crying as well as
he walked towards the suffering elf...

“No!” the voice of his father sobbed in his head, and /No!/ Legolas
screamed, and “No...” his mother breathed as she took one last step
forward off a ledge, her pale face covered with tears and her golden
hair fluttering behind her like a banner as she fell and fell and
fell...

-----------
talan (pl. telain) – flet
Ithil – moon
Tilion – the steersman of the moon
Anor - sun
-----------

/Legolas' comparing Glorfindel to a lion might look strange at a first
glance, but there must have been lions in the southern areas of
Middle-earth. There are words for "lion" in both Sindarin and Quenya,
and certainly Legolas might have chanced upon a description and maybe
even a picture of one in Elrond's extensive library./


35

It was dark when Glorfindel woke, and he knew at once that something
was not right. The room was silent – too silent. It lacked the soft
sound of Legolas’ breathing, and Glorfindel missed the warmth of the
lithe body curled against him to which he had grown so accustomed.

Of course, Legolas could have gotten up because he had heard Gîlríon
make a sound – but then, Glorfindel would have been able to hear both
of them in the next room.

No, something was not as it should be, and Glorfindel could almost
feel the power of the Lady of Light in the air.

After a quick glance into the other room to make sure that Gîlríon was
still securely asleep, he hastily donned a simple tunic and a pair of
leggings. Unthinking habit made him gird his sword belt around his
waist, but he left his weapon where it was leaning against the wall.
No matter what had happened, he doubted that he would need a sword
while in Caras Galadhon.

By now he was almost certain that he knew where Legolas was, although
he could not have said whether that thought pleased or frightened him.
There were many things that had been kept from Legolas, so many
secrets that he had a right to know... So perhaps it was a good thing
that the Lady had taken it into her own hand to allow Legolas a look
into her fabled Mirror. It might serve to finally make him realize
that he was more important than he thought.

Glorfindel sighed as he hastened along the delicately twisting wooden
pathways and bridges that connected the large telain here at the heart
of Caras Galadhon. There had to be a reason why he had woken, and he
feared that he knew what it was. He did not trust the Mirror – nay, to
speak the truth, he feared it. He had never dared to look into it
himself, although he could see the gentle invitation to partake of its
wisdom in the thoughtful looks the Lady of the Wood gave him every now
and then. Yet the Mirror was dangerous, and deep inside he knew that
he still bore wounds that even the long time of reflection in Mandos’
Halls had not completely healed - wounds that he feared to have the
Mirror open anew. Who could say what it had shown Legolas, and how it
might have affected the youth?

The sense of urgency in him only grew when he finally reached the
ground. He might not know what Legolas would see, but he knew that
Legolas needed him. The young prince had known little enough of love
and affection in his short life, but had been given more than a fair
share of pain. Whatever the Mirror might show him, Glorfindel wagered
that it would only bring more pain for Legolas.

Glorfindel had never visited the glade of the Mirror before, yet
nevertheless his feet knew the way. The closer he came, the more he
could feel the Lady’s power. It hung in the air like a silvery melody,
and despite his misgivings, Glorfindel could not help but rejoice at
the feelings and memories it woke. Too long had it been since he had
walked along the shores of the Blessed Realm, the bustling streets of
Tirion or the peaceful pastures of Yavanna.

Suddenly he felt a powerful yearning to quit this land - to cross back
over the Sea and to be at peace, free of the quarrels of unimportant
realms. Why should he, who had walked with Turgon in Gondolin, who had
followed Fingolfin over the Sea, now let the madness of a backwards
Sindarin king trouble his mind?

Yet he had sworn to serve the heir of Eärendil, and whatever else he
might have become, he was no oathbreaker. He would serve Elrond as
best as he could, even if it meant another 500 years of emnity with
Oropher’s son. At least, no matter what further burdens the Valar
heaped on him, they had also blessed him with Legolas.

With renewed purpose Glorfindel made to enter the glade, but then
slowed when he suddenly heard voices – voices he knew.

“Do not refuse my offer so lightly, Ellonúr,” a grave voice warned – a
voice that could only belong to Celeborn. And while Glorfindel was
impatient to get to Legolas and see for himself what the Mirror’s
magic had wrought, he could not help his curiosity when he heard the
name of his friend and erstwhile lover, and so stopped to listen.

“Nay – what you offer is not what I need, and you know it! You and
your Lady, you cannot help me – you do not want to help me! But there
is one who can, and who will! So do not seek to hinder me, my Lord; I
know what it is that I am doing!”

“Do you really?” Celeborn asked. “I am not so certain. You are hurt,
Ellonúr, your fëa is wounded and I can see that you need help. I am
not Glorfindel, nor am I Haldir, yet I can wield cane and whip just as
masterfully.”

“Do not say his name – I was a fool to seek him out! He has changed...
He is no longer my friend or else he would never have refused me when
I needed him so! And you, my Lord, you cannot give me what I need to
forget – but your Marchwarden can, and I will no longer refuse his
offer."

Celeborn sighed. “Ellonúr, that is a bad decision – certainly you can
see that. I know that you have been hurt, yet Haldir in his own way is
wounded as well. It will not work... Instead of healing each other’s
fëar, I fear you will only cause each other more harm. And believe me,
Ellonúr, I do not want to see either of you hurt!"

“No, leave me be!” Ellonúr sounded close to tears now, and Glorfindel
frowned. He had never before heard his friend sound so agitated... “It
is my decision in the end, and I do not want that which you offer! I
will make my own decisions, and my own mistakes!”

Glorfindel hesitated after hearing this last outburst. Celeborn and
Ellonúr were leaving now, and if he wanted to save his friend from the
disaster his decision would certainly prove to be, he would have to
act now.

Yet there was also Legolas who might be in need of him as well...

Glorfindel sighed. No, the choice was really not hard to make at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No, oh no!” Legolas moaned and finally managed to push himself away
from the Mirror. “No, no, it is not true, it cannot be...” He was
trembling so hard that he did not even succeed in brushing the tears
from his face. And it was no use anyway - he could not stop crying,
just like he could not stop remembering what the Mirror had shown him.

“Legolas, calm yourself, it does not need to be true,” the Lady tried
to soothe him, but when she reached out to touch him he took a step
back, his eyes wide with panic, and then he turned and bolted, the
only thought on his mind to flee from the Mirror which had shown him
such horrors. He ran with no regard for the path beneath his feet, and
only stopped when two arms caught him and wrapped themselves around
him, pulling him against a strong chest.

“Glorfindel!” Legolas sobbed in relief, still blinded by his tears.
“Please, do not let it be true, please, you must not allow it to
happen! I do not want to die, not like that, oh, /not like that/!”

“Shh... I am here, Legolas, calm yourself. Whatever you saw, I will
not allow it to happen.” Glorfindel tightened his embrace until he
feared he might crush the youth. But Legolas only continued to sob, so
completely shaken by what the Mirror had revealed to him that
Glorfindel gave the white-clad figure he could see in the distance an
angry look.

/What he has seen might not be what he thinks it is. Look after him,
Glorfindel, calm him – and make him talk about it. If you allow him to
keep silent, the visions that he has seen will fester in his heart,
and might well destroy him in the end./

Glorfindel nodded slowly. He was not happy with the situation, but now
was not the time for a discussion with the Lady, especially since he
could feel that for some reason, she wanted the two of them to work it
out between themselves. As much as it might annoy him, the Lady did
nothing without reason, and she was right about one thing: Legolas
needed all of his attention now, and everything else would have to
wait.

“Come, let us return to our talan, there we can talk about what
happened,” he said gently and pressed a kiss to Legolas’ brow, noting
with concern how pale and cold his skin was.

“You do not know what I /saw/!” Legolas moaned in despair. “So much
pain, such a horrible fate – but why? I do not understand why...”

Glorfindel kissed him again, tasting the salt on his tear-stained
cheeks, and then gently forced him to start moving again, although he
still kept him safely enfolded in his arms.

“It was my fault,” Legolas whimpered. “My fault... it should have been
different, I saw it... All that pain, and it is /my/ fault!”

“Hush, Legolas, please!” Glorfindel tried to wipe Legolas’ tears away,
but it was no use. The tears would not cease to flow, just like the
prince would not be calmed.

For the first time in a very long time, Glorfindel felt helpless. He
did not know what it was that Legolas had seen, yet it had left the
prince horrified, trembling with shock and panic, and – worst of all –
blaming himself for whatever gruesome fate he had been shown.

During the long walk back to their talan, he kept trying to calm the
youth, yet it was to no avail. By the time the first telain came into
view, Legolas was almost worse than before, and Glorfindel had run out
of words. Nothing he said or did would calm the prince, and seeing him
in such despair hurt Glorfindel more than he would ever have imagined.

Glorfindel paused briefly, weighing his options, and came to a
decision. He set off down the path again, but soon changed direction,
pulling Legolas along a seldom used trail that led away from the
telain and deeper into a part of the Golden Wood that was not
inhabited.

There was only one way to help Legolas, a path that he had hoped that
he would never have to tread, or if so, at least not so soon. He was
no healer; he was not Elrond who would have known how to heal such
grief with dried herbs and calm words. His way was harsh... his way
was the way of warriors who had to deal with pain and death on an
almost daily basis. What he had done to Legolas thus far had been mild
when compared to what he had done to other lovers, for the most part
no more than playful teasing. Yet Legolas needed his help now, and
this was the only way he knew.

Glorfindel was well aware that it could be a mistake to act now,
without knowing what exactly Legolas had seen. But Legolas would not
talk; he was too upset to let Glorfindel help him, and Glorfindel
thought that he would rather make a mistake now and deal with the
consequences later than be forced to continue to helplessly watch his
prince suffer so.

“I will help you, Legolas,” he said calmly and stopped next to a tall
tree. “I will take away your guilt and free you from your grief – but
it comes with a price. I will allow you to rest thereafter, but
tomorrow you will tell me what you saw, and you will leave nothing
out.”

“I will do whatever you say, as long as you make it go away – /please/!”
Legolas whispered. “I cannot bear what I saw, I /cannot/! Please, make
me forget it...”

“I will, Legolas,” Glorfindel said almost sadly and moved to kiss
Legolas one last time. Then he ordered Legolas to strip, and although
his voice was calm, it was also firm and almost detached.

When Legolas had finished and stood before him naked and still
trembling, Glorfindel removed his belt and drew it lovingly through
his fingers, cherishing the silky smoothness of the worn leather. He
would have preferred a whip for this, but he would have to make do
with what he had. And his swordbelt was not a bad choice – the leather
was thick and sturdy, and would make for heavy, bruising blows... and
more pain than Legolas had ever known from his hands before.

“I want to hear you say it, Legolas,” he said heavily. “Trust me, I
will find no pleasure in this, but I will not hold back. I have done
this before for fellow warriors who needed to bear this trial to rid
themselves of ghosts, to open again the wounds that had been left on
their fëar so that these wounds might finally heal...But it will hurt.
So I want to hear it now, Legolas: is this what you want? Do you truly
need the kind of release that pain will bring you?”

“Yes...” Legolas breathed. “Yes... punish me. I deserve it. You do not
know how much I deserve it...”

Glorfindel sighed and nodded. “Turn around then and grip that branch
above you,” he commanded. When Legolas, still shaking, silently
obeyed, Glorfindel stepped behind him and gently ran his hands down
his flanks. “Trust me in this,” he whispered. “I promise I will not
harm you.”

Then he stepped back, and once again his voice was calm and imperious,
as befit a captain. “Do not let go of the branch,” he warned.

“Yes, my Lord,” Legolas whispered weakly, and Glorfindel saw his
muscles tense in preparation for what was to come.

“We will begin with yesterday’s offense,” Glorfindel decided. “I know
that I said it would wait until tomorrow, but with the way things are
now, I think we would both rather have it done with right now. Am I
right?”

“Yes, my Lord,” Legolas repeated and bowed his head. Glorfindel
nodded, although Legolas could not see it, and raised the hand that
held the belt. “Three lashes,” he warned, and then he began. This was
unlike anything that he had ever done to Legolas before, and it was
obvious that the pain was worse than what Legolas had anticipated by
the way he cried out and flinched away from the belt. Of course
Legolas had tasted a belt before, that time out on the balcony during
the feast in Celeborn’s honor, but there was a world of difference
between the few welts raised on Legolas’ bottom with the light
decorative belt he had worn then, and the beating inflicted by the
heavy, thick leather he now swung with all his might. Yes, he had held
back then to spare the pregnant youth – but this was a true
punishment, executed with all of his strength and the will to hurt and
to bruise, to give the youth the catharsis he so needed.

A broad stripe of red adorned Legolas’ back now, and when Glorfindel
raised his arm again, another stripe and another cry followed. After
the third lash, Legolas was sobbing again, but he did not let go of
the branch, nor did he try to plead.

“Tell me why I had to punish you,” Glorfindel commanded sternly.

“Because... I acted against your orders, I... I did not wait for you
to allow me m-my release,” Legolas whispered shamefully.

“And are you sorry now?”

“Yes, I am sorry! Please, forgive me, my Lord!” Legolas sobbed.

Glorfindel smiled and rested a hand against Legolas’ back, feeling the
heat of the reddened skin. “I forgive you,” he said gently and pressed
a kiss to Legolas’ temple.

“But there was another offense you committed tonight. Can you tell me
what that was?”

“I – I left our talan without telling you, my Lord?” Legolas asked,
his voice trembling with uncertainty and, still, the pain.

“Yes. I know why you did it, but still it does not change the fact
that I was worried when I woke and found you gone.”

“Forgive me, my Lord – I am sorry!” Legolas whispered, and Glorfindel
pulled his hand away from his skin.

“Five lashes for leaving without telling me,” he declared. Again he
raised his arm, and again the belt fell heavily onto the prince’s
smooth skin. Glorfindel could feel how Legolas struggled to be brave,
to contain his cries, but it was too much pain for one so young, so
inexperienced – and Glorfindel was glad of every single cry and tear,
although they pained him as well. But Legolas needed to let go this
way, or else the pain he bore might never leave him.

After the fifth stroke, Glorfindel breathed deeply and once again
rested his hand against the punished skin. Where the strokes
criss-crossed, the red was even darker and Glorfindel knew that the
skin there would bruise heavily.

“You are forgiven,” he whispered into Legolas’ ear. “You are very
brave... Can you take more?”

“Y-yes,” Legolas whimpered, and Glorfindel pressed another kiss to his
temple. “So very brave, Legolas...” he murmured, then stepped back
once again with a sigh. “Then tell me for what offense you deserve
this punishment.”

“The visions...” Legolas wept softly. “I saw... it was my fault. It
was my fault back then! I never knew – all this time and I never knew!
All this time, and it was I who brought this on myself! It was all my
fault...”

“Hush, Legolas... you have judged yourself, but it is for /me/ to punish
you!” Glorfindel hesitated. He still did not know what crime Legolas
thought he had committed, but from his reaction it was obvious that he
thought it an offense most horrible and grievous.

And he had no other choice than to make the punishment just as
horrible, if he wanted Legolas to consider his crime paid for and to
forgive himself. If he held back now, if he tried to deal him less
than what Legolas himself thought he deserved, then Legolas would
continue to carry his guilt and his doubts. No, he had no other
alternative...

“Twenty lashes,” he said softly, and Legolas sobbed in weary
acceptance. Glorfindel wondered uneasily if the youth would be able to
bear it – twenty lashes delivered with force, with this most cruel
belt, was a harsh verdict. And even though his belt was no whip, he
would not temper his blows as the pain was the only way he saw to make
Legolas let go of his guilt.

He brushed away a strand of hair that clung to Legolas’ shoulder, then
raised the belt yet again. With blow after blow, new cries were forced
from Legolas’ throat until his voice was hoarse and he seemed to
almost choke from the force of his sobs. Where several blows had
struck the same patch of skin, some of the welts had been opened by
the edge of the belt and now bled little crimson droplets.

At the sight of this, Glorfindel almost stopped. He had never made
Legolas bleed before. This was a threshold he had crossed with only a
few warriors, and none of them had been an inexperienced, frightened
child. At that moment, Glorfindel hated the Valar for driving them to
this, for forcing him to give such pain to innocent Legolas, who had
only ever wanted to please.

Yet even these misgivings could not stop him. He could feel that it
still was not enough, that he had not yet managed to drive Legolas
over that threshold which would enable him to forgive himself, and so
he continued.

Blow followed blow, raising more welts, bruising more of the once
unblemished skin, and the bite of his belt soon drew more blood. Once,
at the fourteenth blow, Legolas almost gave in to the pain and
loosened his grip, but at the last moment he clenched his fingers even
more tightly around the branch that held him up and continued to bear
his trial. Glorfindel thought that he had never been more proud, nor
had he ever felt such sorrow before.

It seemed like this torment would never end, but eventually the
twentieth blow came, and then there was a moment of silence where they
both sought to catch their breath. Then, with a thin whimper, Legolas
let go of the branch and fell. It seemed to him like he was slipping
into unconsciousness, and he welcomed it, but before he was fully gone
Glorfindel’s strong arms caught him and gently cradled him against his
chest.

“That was well done, my prince,” Glorfindel whispered tenderly. “You
are indeed brave, with the true heart of a warrior. You have borne
your punishment more nobly than many Lords I have known. Yes, I
forgive you, Legolas. You have paid for any crime that you might have
committed with your blood and your pain, and you have proved yourself
worthy of being mine. Now rest, pen vell, and I will care for you.”

“Thank you,” Legolas breathed, overcome with a powerful emotion that
he could not name. He only knew that Glorfindel had never shone
brighter in his eyes. “Thank you, my Lord, thank you,” he repeated,
and then he sighed and his head rolled against Glorfindel’s shoulder
as he surrendered himself to the healing oblivion of sleep.

--------------------
talan (pl. telain) – flet
pen vell - dear one


36

Carefully, Glorfindel wrapped the discarded robe around Legolas and
carried him back to their talan. The youth remained unconscious until
Glorfindel laid him down onto the bed, but then he whimpered softly
and opened his eyes.

"Hush, Legolas," Glorfindel said gently and stroked his hair. Then he
poured some wine into a cup and held it to Legolas' lips. "Drink, pen
vell. It will grant you untroubled sleep. You deserve some rest
now..."

Legolas sighed softly and obediently swallowed the wine. Then he lay
back and allowed Glorfindel to gently pull the robe away from him,
deeply asleep even before the Lord had finished applying a healing
salve to the worst of the welts. Glorfindel sat by his side for a
while, keeping watch to make sure that indeed no dark dreams were
plaguing him, but eventually he undressed as well and joined Legolas
in bed.

The first one to wake the next morning was neither Legolas nor
Glorfindel, but Gîlríon. Surprised that neither of his parents was
there to help him wash and dress, he climbed out of his bed and padded
into his parents' room. He frowned when he found both of them still
asleep, although it was already light outside and a servant had just
left breakfast on a table, as well as warm water for washing.

"Wake *up*, atto! Breakfast is here!" he commanded and climbed up onto
the bed, sitting down on Glorfindel's chest. "I am hungry! And I want
to go outside!"

Glorfindel groaned when his eyes cleared and focused on his son.
"Gîl... let me breathe! Valar, even an orc would wake me more
gently..."

"Get *up*, atto! And ada, too!" Gîlríon repeated impatiently, pouting
when his father did not react immediately. Instead, Glorfindel
stretched, giving Legolas, who was still deeply asleep, an almost
envious look before he finally pulled his son off his chest and sat
up.

"Let your ada sleep, he is very tired," Glorfindel said, and Gîlríon
sighed deeply but abandoned his father to curl up against Legolas'
chest.

"Will you make breakfast for me, atto?" he asked, although his voice
was quiet now so he would not wake Legolas. "And will we go see the
horses? I want to ride on ada's horse!"

"Yes, I will prepare your breakfast, and yes, you may ride later on,"
Glorfindel sighed patiently and then got up, searching through the
clothes they had brought for a simple tunic and leggings that would
survive a day of playing with their son.

Once he had dressed, he piled cut fruits on a plate, together with
some slices of bread and a pale, mild cheese Legolas favored. Then he
spooned some honey over a small bowl of oatmeal, but gave Gîlríon a
warning look before he handed it to him. "If you want to eat here, you
will be careful. If you spill the honey onto our bed, there will be no
riding today!"

"Yes, atto," Gîlríon sighed and took hold of the bowl with exaggerated
carefulness.

Glorfindel returned to the table to get cups. One he filled with
warmed milk to which he added some honey before giving it to their
son, the other two cups he put down next to the plate on the
nightstand, together with a pot of steaming mint tea.

"Wake up, sweet one," he then breathed into Legolas' ear, stroking his
cheek to call him back from Lórien's realm of dreams.

Legolas sighed and stretched, but then he froze, his eyes suddenly
clearing when an unexpected pain reminded him of what had passed
during the night. Only the presence of his son kept him from groaning
as his movement stretched muscles beneath bruised and welt-covered
skin.

"Still tired?" Glorfindel said knowingly. "I am still feeling tired as
well. Perhaps we should rest today..."

"But you *promised*, atto!" Gîlrion exclaimed, and Glorfindel was
quick to reassure him before the tell-tale gleam in his eyes became
tears.

"I know, Gîl - Fairion and Laindir will go with you. You like them, do
you not? I am certain that they would love to play with you today."

Gîlríon nodded, already smiling again. "Yes, I really like them!" he
agreed and then proceeded to hastily shovel the porridge into his
mouth.

"Stay in bed, Legolas," Glorfindel murmured and pressed a kiss to the
prince's temple before he left their talan for a moment, telling a
servant to summon the two guards to their rooms.

When he returned, he found Legolas sitting up carefully with his back
against the headboard, the sheet pulled up high to hide his nude body
so that Gîlríon would not see the bruises by accident. But their child
was still distracted by the honeyed milk he was drinking down as
quickly as possible, and before he had time to snuggle up to his ada
again, Glorfindel lifted him from the bed and proceeded to help him
wash and dress. Every now and then, Gîlríon would stop and give
Legolas a questioning look, but although he realized that something
was not quite right, he also understood that they did not want to
involve him. Soon, he stopped worrying alltogether - his atto would
take care of his ada and make everything right again. His parents
*always* made everything right for him, and his atto would know how to
make his ada smile again.

A short while later, after a happily chattering Gîlríon had been taken
away by the hastily summoned guards, Glorfindel joined Legolas on the
bed once more, handing him a cup which he had just filled with tea and
placing the plate between them.

"Thank you - I do not think I would make a good playmate for him
today," Legolas said with a slight grimace.

"Yes, I think you should rest today. Although a hot bath will help
with the soreness." Glorfindel kissed Legolas tenderly, then smiled.
"Eat, and drink your tea, and then we will go to the baths... and
*then* we will talk."

Legolas paled and lowered his eyes, but still he sipped obediently at
his tea.

An hour later, after Legolas had dressed gingerly in a tunic of thin,
sleek silk which he hoped would not aggravate his welts, they headed
towards the bathing area of Lothlórien.

There were very few in the city of Caras Galadhon who could enjoy a
hot bath in their own rooms, as each bucket of water had to be carried
up into the trees before it could be heated and emptied into a tub.
Consequently, a hot bath was work for several servants, and this
luxury was something usually only accorded to the Lord and Lady, or
royal guests. Glorfindel as well was afforded this luxury, yet he did
not make use of it overly much as he knew the amount of work it meant.

Most of Lothlórien's inhabitants used one of the public bathhouses or
one of the pools and ponds fed by a small arm of the Celebrant. Yet
there was one other pool, situated close to Galadriel's private
gardens, which was fed by a source deep inside the earth. Its water
was hot and steaming, imbued with healing powers by the essences of
the ancient stones and crystals it had rushed past on its way to the
surface.

This pool was usually only used by the Lady of Light and her husband,
yet it stood open for those who had need of the healing its waters
could bring. And the healing powers of this hallowed spring were just
what Legolas needed now; healing - and the privacy of the place so
that he could finally unburden his heart.

They undressed and left their clothes on a large stone that stood
close to the edge of the pool. Legolas was still not entirely
comfortable with being naked in a place where they might be observed
by accident, and so he was the first to step into the hot spring.

When he slid deeper into the water, he flinched. The heat made his
welts sting and he hissed in pain. Yet only a moment later an almost
blissful expression appeared on his face as he relaxed, the soreness
of his bruised back vanishing when the magic of the sulphurous water
worked its magic.

"I knew that would feel good," Glorfindel said with a smile. He
followed Legolas into the water with a contented sigh, then sat down
on what appeared to be a stone seat, immersed in the water. "Come
here, sit on my lap - I want to hold you when you tell me what you saw
yesterday."

Legolas obeyed shakily, lowering his eyes as soon as he had sat down
on Glorfindel's lap.

"Do not be afraid, Legolas. I am not here to judge you. Remember how
you suffered yesterday in payment? You are already forgiven, but now
you have to keep the promise that you gave me."

Again he sought Legolas' lips, brushing them with his own mouth until
they opened of their own accord. Glorfindel smiled into the kiss when
Legolas made a soft sound of pleasure somewhere deep in his throat.
The youth melted against his body, Glorfindel's tongue slipping into
his mouth to slide teasingly against his own until all Legolas could
taste, all he could breathe was Glorfindel. When they finally parted
again, Legolas licked dreamily over his moist lips, flushed from the
hot water and excitement, and also because he could not hide how much
he loved his lord's taste.

Glorfindel gave him another tender smile. "Trust me," he encouraged
him gently. "Tell me what you saw."

Legolas sighed again and rested his head on Glorfindel's shoulder, so
that he would not be forced to look into his eyes.

"I first saw my father, and my lady mother. I could not remember what
she looked like, but now I know that she was beautiful. It is true
what they say, I have inherited her hair - it is the same color."
Legolas sighed against Glorfindel's damp skin, then continued. "I saw
their wedding, saw them exchange their vows beneath the stars... They
were very happy. I have never seen my adar look so happy before. It
was a good vision, sad because I never got the chance to know my
naneth, but I am glad to know what she looked like, and that they were
so happy..."

"But then the vision changed, my lord. And - I saw your home,
Gondolin. *Beautiful*... it was so beautiful! I had not known that
such splendour existed! It was so much more beautiful than our dark
forest, and even Imladris and Lórien pale after you have seen the
white walls and minarets of the hidden city. But then it was attacked,
and I saw - *you*. I saw you, my lord, fighting the balrog!" Legolas
fell silent and took a shuddering breath. Glorfindel was silent as
well, but embraced him tightly as if to protect him from the demon
whose horror no elf should have to witness.

"And then - then it was Gondolin no longer, but a cave. You were gone,
my lord, but I still saw a balrog... and I saw myself in the cave with
the demon. There were others - I fear they were children! And
something horrible had happened, something that made my heart ache
with grief!" Legolas sobbed softly when he finally allowed himself to
voice his fears. "Children, my lord - what if it was another son? What
if I one day put one of our children in such danger, by bringing them
near a balrog?"

"Calm yourself, Legolas." Glorfindel gave Legolas a look that, while
troubled, was not as anxious as Legolas would have expected. "I do not
think that it is a future child that you have seen. Even if it is yet
unborn, I am certain that you would have recognized a fëa created by
our joining. No, it is a dreadful vision indeed, but you do not need
to fear for Gîl or a sibling." Instead, Glorfindel feared for Legolas,
but now was not the time to voice that thought, not when he wanted
Legolas calm enough to continue his recounting.

Legolas swallowed and nodded. "That vision..." He shook his head. "As
terrible as it was, now that I have *seen* it, my lord..." He
shivered, then reached for Glorfindel's hand, raising it to his lips
so he could kiss it worshipfully. "Glorfindel the Beloved," he
whispered, overcome by the vision of the warrior who had faced the
demon and given his life, so that his lord's family might escape to
safety. "I now understand why they call you this. I saw you face the
balrog, lord, I saw you step into his path with only your gilded armor
to save you from his fire. I saw you raise your sword, saw you give
your own life without any fear, so that your lord's heir might live! I
never understood before - but now I know what valor truly means, and
that the songs which extoll your knightly virtues do not do justice to
your heroic deed! You are indeed beloved of your people, and of the
Valar as well."

Glorfindel was silent. For once he did not know what to say. "Thank
you, Legolas," he finally whispered and leaned down to press a tender
kiss to Legolas' brow, while the youth was still holding his hand
cradled against his cheek. "It means a lot to me to hear you say this,
truly... For as much as the minstrels like to play the Lay of the Fall
of Gondolin, they have never yet seen a balrog, nor do they know the
terror of being face to face with a demon of Morgoth..."

"Nor do they know what it feels like to see the most beautiful city of
Middle-earth being ravaged by the Dark Lord's creatures," Legolas
whispered sadly, his eyes filling with tears.

"Yes," Glorfindel agreed and brushed his lips against Legolas' cheeks.
"Weep if you want - your tears honor you, sweet one. Compassion is a
virtue that many have lost in this dark time. But do not grieve too
deeply for the lost wonders of the Hidden City. Gondolin was built in
the image of fair Tirion on Túna, the city we left behind when we
crossed the Helcaraxë. I promise, pen vell, one day I shall return to
Aman with you and our son, and together we shall walk the gem-covered
shore of Taniquetil. Yes... and I shall show you all the wonders of
the Blessed Realm."

Legolas smiled, and with a soft sigh, surrendered to Glorfindel's
embrace once more. He wished he could simply stay like this, feeling
warm and safe, but he had not yet finished recounting what the Mirror
had shown. "The next vision..." Ai, it was so hard to talk of it! But
talk of it he must - he had promised he would! "It was you again, my
lord, together with me in Mirkwood, at the lake. You kissed me..."

"You saw the past then?" Glorfindel asked, and Legolas slowly shook
his head.

"Nay, my lord, I... I saw you seduce me. I did not resist you, and you
did not... hurt me. You made love to me beneath the apple tree, so
sweetly and gently..." Tears began to run down his face as he
remembered the tenderness of the act. "And then I was pregnant,
sitting at Lord Elrond's table next to you, with Celeborn and Haldir
there as well, and - and my brother, Galuron. You... you were so
proud, my lord, so happy, so affectionate. Elrond and Galuron were
signing some parchment, and there were silver rings on our fingers!"
He sobbed the last words, unable to continue for a moment when the
pain and bitterness of the memory took away his breath.

Glorfindel closed his eyes, his expression pained. "Go on, pen vell...
were there more visions?" he asked hoarsely, although the last thing
he wanted to hear right now was another vision like the one Legolas
had just recalled.

"I saw a group of elves from Mirkwood. They were attacked by orcs, and
there were just too many... They lost, and one of the warriors, I saw
how they - *raped* him!" Legolas moaned in terror, but still he forced
himself to continue. "Then - I think I saw myself, back in Mirkwood,
sleeping in a room in the royal wing. I was older, but - this should
please you, my lord - I was pregnant again." He tried to smile. "Gîl
shall have a little brother or sister one day, and my father will
allow me back. That at least is good news, is it not?"

Glorfindel nodded but did not speak, and Legolas continued, eager to
be finished.

"The last vision the Mirror gave me was once again a pregnant elf,
with fair hair - just like that of my naneth. But he was bound to his
bed, and his *face* - he had clawed his own face with gouges so deep
that his features were no longer recognizable! And his belly - ai!
That was no child he was bearing, no edhel! There were sores on his
belly, dark lines as if there was poison flowing through his very
veins, and something inside him was moving - *moving*!"

He trembled. There were no words to convey the horror he had felt,
that sense of *evil*. "My adar was there, and a healer... I could not
understand them, but I know what they said. 'Monster' they said,
'cursed', 'tainted', and then - the healer begged ada for mercy for
the elf, for *death*, and..." He sobbed. "They killed him! My ada
cried, and then I saw my naneth again, stepping forward until she fell
and fell, and her hair fluttered in the wind - *her hair was the same
color as mine*!"

Legolas moaned in horror and sagged against Glorfindel, clutching at
his shoulders. When the lord's arms wrapped themselves around him, to
embrace him tightly, they rubbed over the welts on his back and made
him cry out. But it was only that pain that kept him from sinking into
the comforting darkness that had suddenly loomed in front of his eyes.

------------------------
pen vell - dear one
atto - affectionate form of "father" [Quenya]
ada - affectionate form of "father" [Sindarin]
adar - father
naneth - mother
-------------------------

37

Glorfindel held Legolas tightly, wordlessly trying to comfort him.
Only when Legolas had calmed enough so that he once more seemed able
to listen to Glorfindel did the warrior speak again.

"You think that it is you, do you not? That fair-haired elf that dies,
that is condemned to death by the healer?” Glorfindel sighed and
gently pressed his lips to Legolas’ temple. “Hush, be calm... There is
no reason to believe that. I told you that you cannot trust the
Mirror, and I am certain that there is another meaning to this."

Legolas tried his best to hide the panic that was welling up in him at
the mere thought of that vision, but despite his efforts he was still
trembling when he forced himself to meet Glorfindel’s eyes. "But the
elf I saw... He was clearly of the Royal family, and there is no other
elf with this exact same color of hair. I am the only one who
inherited my mother’s coloring!"

"Still, it might be a future child of one of your brothers, or a
cousin you do not yet know about,” Glorfindel reasoned. “There are
many possibilities, Legolas. Do not despair! This is exactly why I
have never dared to look into the Mirror myself, for I know how easy
it is to come to the wrong conclusion. Yet now that we know of it -
even if it is indeed yourself you have seen - we are warned.”

Glorfindel fell silent for a moment, then raised a hand to gently cup
Legolas’ cheek. His next words were slow and grave, yet filled with
tender emotion. “And did I not promise to protect you?” he whispered,
smiling sadly when he thought about how much pain he himself had
brought this youth. “I will swear you an oath, Legolas. By the grace
of the Valar, I swear that I will protect you. No harm shall come to
you while you yet remain in Middle-earth; I will protect you and our
children with my own life, until the day that we finally sail West to
find peace in the Blessed Realm."

"No!" Legolas exclaimed, taken aback. "No, my Lord, do not swear such
an oath... Think of what consequences it might bring! Think of
Fëanor’s sons, and what pain an oath brought them!"

“Forgive me,” Glorfindel said, startled by the sudden protest. “I
forget how you Sindar view such things. Yet even we Noldor do not
lightly swear an oath like that. I know that I have done many things
which will not find the Valar’s blessing, and I am sorry for it. But I
will keep this promise that I have given you, no matter the cost."

Legolas still looked frightened, but at least he was no longer
trembling in Glorfindel’s arms like the leaf he had been named for.
And while Glorfindel knew that they were still not done talking about
the horrifying last vision, he decided to spare Legolas the anguish it
would undoubtably cause for the moment. Instead he chose another one
of the visions - a vision that horrified Glorfindel as well, yet he
hoped that what he had to say would heal the wound this particular
sight must have left on Legolas’ heart.

"When you told me last night that it was all your fault, Legolas,
which vision did you mean?" he asked, dreading the answer although he
already knew what it must be. Yet he could not take back what he had
done; the welts were there on Legolas’ back no matter what he now
heard.

Legolas lowered his head, looking down at the small ripples their
movements caused. "That first time we met... the Mirror showed me what
I could have had," he said tonelessly. "It was all like it had been...
only I did not struggle, and you did not... hurt me then. It showed me
that I had no right to blame you, because all that pain was my own
fault. If I had simply submitted to you there, you would not have hurt
me, nor would I have become your... possession. There would have been
peace, without my brother suffering because of my mistakes..."

"Ai, pen vell," Glorfindel whispered, anguished. "What have I done to
you that you would blame yourself for this? Do you not see what it is
that you are doing? You say that it is your fault that you were raped,
because you dared to fight your attacker! Do you not see that it is I
who was at fault? I wanted you, yes, but I should never have forced
you! I should have seduced you with sweet words, like the way you have
seen it. I should have given you nothing but pleasure that day!"

Glorfindel bowed his head and closed his eyes.

Now they had come to it - the moment that he should have known was
waiting for him all along. This was what he had done to Legolas; this
was how deeply he had wounded his fëa.

Yet this moment was nothing like what he had imagined. It was not the
reaction that he had secretly feared ever since he heard Legolas admit
the truth of his violation to his brother. Legolas did not hate him,
or curse him for what he had done; he did not even want to run away
from him.

Instead, what Glorfindel was reaping now was far worse than what he
had feared. He was nearly trembling with impotent rage, silently
cursing the Valar who were seeking to punish him for his misdeeds in
this most cruel way - not by hurting him, not by taking Legolas away,
but by making Legolas suffer.

Rather than punish *him*, the Valar hurt *Legolas*, the innocent youth
who had never done wrong in his life, who had only ever wanted to
please, so that somebody would finally show him love.

Glorfindel felt as if his heart were breaking. To hear Legolas blame
himself for being violated, for being dishonored and humiliated and
hurt, when it was he, Glorfindel, who was the monster who had forced
the youth and laughed at his pain...

Never in his life had Glorfindel felt such shame.

"Curse the Valar for making you believe such a horrible lie," he said
hoarsely. "And curse them for allowing me to return to Middle-earth!
Ai, I should have remained in Mandos’ cold halls until the world is
made anew!"

"Nay, my lord! Do not say such horrible things! Do not curse the
Valar!" Legolas cried, tears glistening on his dark lashes. " They
sent you back to do great deeds, and to bring us hope! And you have
done so - your presence here has saved countless lives and inspired
others."

"Yet my fëa has become a wretched thing, tainted with darkness,"
Glorfindel whispered in shame. He shivered and drew Legolas closer for
a moment, enfolding him tightly in his arms. Then he carefully pushed
him off his lap and towards the rim of the pool. He wanted nothing
more than to hold Legolas close, but the things he needed to tell him
were best told with at least *some* distance between them, lest
Glorfindel succumb to the allure of the slender, wet body, and the
sweet oblivion it offered.

He silently waited while Legolas climbed out of the pool, and then
followed him. There was a stack of towels by the side of the pool that
had been left by a servant, and only when they had both dried
themselves did he continue to speak, his voice heavy with guilt.

"Has the Lady not told you that the Mirror shows only that which was,
or is, or will be? It does not show /what should have been/ – at least
it does not do so normally. That is not in the Lady’s power, nor was
it in the power of Melian, who once blessed these woods with her
presence in an Age long gone. No, you have been given that vision for
a reason, Legolas, and that reason is me. I have never dared to look
into the Mirror... and I think that the Valar have finally grown
impatient with how I have misused their gift of rebirth.

“That vision was a message for *me*. The Lady was right, I do indeed
believe that both you and Gîl were a reward for my unwavering loyalty
to the line of Eärendil. Yet these mortal shores have corrupted me. I
was reborn as one without sin, without blemish, and sent to
Middle-earth to carry the light of the Blessed Realm to this land. Yet
instead of fighting the darkness, of counselling my lord to keep
searching for peaceful solutions to the problems between our realms, I
let myself be overcome by rage and pain. I bear a heavy guilt,
Legolas. I have wronged the Valar, I have wronged my friends... and
what pains me most is that I have wronged you.”

Glorfindel fell silent, and then – never once breaking contact with
Legolas’ eyes – he fell to his knees in front of him.

"I *raped* you. What I did was monstrous, and I cannot possibly
apologize for it, yet I want you to know that I am truly sorry. How
can I ever atone for what I did, for the shame and the dishonor I
brought on you? Ai, please forgive me, Legolas...” Glorfindel’s voice
broke and he bowed his head, still kneeling in front of the youth.
“No, my Lord – do not kneel!” Legolas said shakily. He raised a
trembling hand to touch Gorfindel’s wet locks, feeling insecure as
never before. To see the noble head bowed, the proud Elda kneeling
before him – this was not right, this was not how it should be! How
was he supposed to react to this? What was he supposed to say?

“You should not kneel before me,” he repeated helplessly. “Please!” He
remembered Glorfindel in the vision, the glorious warrior who had
fearlessly stood against the balrog – how could the reborn hero who
was beloved by both the Valar and elves alike humble himself, and in
front of *him*, Legolas? “I am *nothing*!” he exclaimed, not noticing
the pained look that flitted across Glorfindel’s face.

“You did not... It was not...” he then went on, flushed and miserable
with shame at the memory. “If it had been rape, I would have died from
it – but I did not. It... it is true, you hurt me, but.. it was not
*that*!”

“But it was, Legolas,” Glorfindel said softly. “And it *would* have
killed you – I will never forget the look in your eyes. I realized
then what I had become... that in truth I was no better than a
creature of the Dark Lord, so lost in the darkness of my pain and rage
that I would not only violate an innocent, but *take pleasure* from
that most despicable act - even though it would mean his death!

"Do not try to excuse my actions, Legolas. It was rape, even if I
managed to keep you from Mandos. I laughed at you for enjoying it, but
you had never known another’s touch until that day! How could you not
have felt pleasure when I manipulated your body? The fault is all
mine, as is the shame...”

“No!” Legolas whispered, “Please! Do not say that... You are all that
I have!” He fell to his knees as well, throwing himself against
Glorfindel’s chest as the sobs finally broke out of him, and with them
all the fear he had so long tried to suppress. “Please, my Lord!” he
begged desperately, “Just promise me that you will not send me away,
that is all that I wish for! Just allow me to stay with you and Gîl;
there is nothing more that I could ask!”

“Hush, Legolas, do not cry! I have hurt you so much already, I cannot
bear to see you in pain over this!” Glorfindel helplessly tried to
wipe the tears from Legolas’ face, finally kissing him everywhere he
could reach, his cheeks, his eyes, his mouth, to stop those
heartbreaking sobs. “I promise, Legolas, I swear it by the grace of
the Valar, I will never send you away! I will never try to part you
from our children! I... You know who I am, you know *how* I am. I will
not change, I cannot promise you that, but I *can* promise that what I
did by that lake, and again when I found you with Elrond – that *that*
will never happen again! I swear it, Legolas, I swear it to you and
the Valar, it will never again be *rape* between us!”

“That is all that I ever wanted!” Legolas choked out against
Glorfindel’s neck, clinging to him as if he still feared his lord
would send him away. “Let me stay with you... Punish me, hurt me if
you must, but please, please, *love me*!”

--------------------------
pen vell - dear one
fëa - soul
---------------------------

38

"Legolas..." Glorfindel wanted to weep at this piteous, heartbroken
plea. "You do not deserve this; you do not deserve any of this!" he
whispered, feeling as though he would choke on the anguish he was
feeling. He was seeing so clearly now... He was seeing what he had
done, and all the consequences of his foul deed.

Legolas had been unloved and unwanted for all of his life. How lonely
he must have been, and how sad his childhood without the love of his
parents and brothers - most likely without even friends! Even before
Glorfindel, his fëa would have been nearly wounded beyond repair by
the long years of neglect.

Legolas had been starved for love, hungering for the smallest sign of
affection. It would have been so easy - all it would have taken was a
kind word, just the smallest amount of praise, of affection, and
Legolas would have done *anything* to please him.

/I am nothing!/ Legolas' words came back to haunt him. Yes... even
back then, Legolas had already abandoned all belief in himself, simply
existing from day to day, faced with the unwavering knowledge that he
did not mean anything to anyone - that he was unwanted at his father's
court, or in his father's life.

And then *he* had come, Glorfindel, giving the child hope for perhaps
the first time in his life that someone could actually want him, be
interested in him - only to rip that hope away in the most cruel
fashion.

Glorfindel almost moaned when he finally admitted to himself the full
scope of what he had done. It would have been a horrible crime no
matter the victim, yet to know that he had abused someone whose fëa
had already been so damaged by years of neglect... He shivered when he
remembered all the abuses that he had heaped on the youth - and that
he had brought the taint of slavery to Imladris, when his purpose had
been to fight the growing darkness! How was it that he had never
realized that slowly, he had become no better than the evil that he
had once sworn to fight?

Glorfindel felt overcome with shame at how far he had fallen. What
*had* he done? Was there even a way to undo the damage he had caused?

"I have sworn you an oath, Legolas! I will not ever send you away, I
swear it!" Glorfindel repeated, tightening his arms around the
heartbroken youth. "Nor will I allow anyone else to hurt you, neither
by their hands nor by their words. Do you... do you not know how very
dear you are to me?" he whispered against Legolas' hair. "You are so
beautiful, and your sweetness, your gentleness... Ai, you were not
made for these cruel mortal shores! Would that I could have met you in
Aman, a carefree, happy child of the forest that I could have wooed,
that I could have made happy..."

"No," Legolas moaned. "Please, do not! I dare not indulge these
dreams! I know what I am, and truly, I would not have deserved that...
But I love our Gîl so! Just do not let them hurt him because of me! I
could not bear that!"

"Hush, Legolas. I promise! Nobody will be allowed to hurt him,"
Glorfindel whispered, sighing softly against Legolas' hair.

What *had* he been thinking? Had he truly been so callous, so
self-serving that he had not realized what he was doing? Or was it
that he simply had not cared?

Now the damage was done, and Glorfindel trembled when he realized that
just maybe, it could never be reversed. Nor would he ever know if what
Legolas was feeling was true affection, or something twisted by his
abuse - a feeling fabricated by his mind so that he could survive
being the whore of his father's enemy.

And truly, what *could* he do? He had had Legolas trained in
swordsmanship, had taught him languages, literature, and history...
yet still, Legolas thought that he was *nothing*!

But then, Glorfindel reminded himself, how *could* Legolas be
confident in his worth when the truth was that he held no position of
honor or respect - when even the stable boys felt themselves above
him?

Glorfindel had made certain that the hateful word he himself had once
used for Legolas - whore - was no longer used, at least not in his
presence. Yet Glorfindel could not change what people thought about
Legolas, though perhaps in time he could change how Legolas felt about
himself.

How often had he reassured Legolas, told him that he would protect
him, told him that he was a prince in truth? Yet when had he ever made
good on those promises?

No, Glorfindel had to admit that he had never truly tried to make
those promises a reality. If he wanted Legolas to have a place in
society that was not that of an outcast, then he, Glorfindel, would
have to give him that place. Vague threats would never give Legolas
the respect he deserved, not as long as Glorfindel himself was seen to
treat Legolas as nothing more than a whore to pleasure him. Even
Legolas' presence at feasts, royally arrayed, could be taken - not as
an honor - but as Glorfindel flaunting his mastery over a subjugated
prince of the enemy. For how else should their relationship be
perceived, given that he had not honored Legolas with a betrothal,
much less the vows of eternal binding?

Glorfindel wearily closed his eyes. He had fallen into the Valar's
trap - or maybe it had been his own trap all along. He now loved that
which he had once hated, which he had hurt and shamed and nearly
destroyed. How the Valar must laugh at him!

"Legolas..."

Glorfindel sighed, but then shook his head. It was too late for
apologies - what Legolas needed were reassurances. And it would need
to be more than just a promise this time...

/Love me!/ he could again hear the youth pleading. And certainly that
was not asking too much, was it, after Legolas had already given him a
son? Yet still, Glorfindel found himself unable to speak the words. He
told himself that he simply did not want to hurt Legolas even more by
lying to him, yet at the same time he could not entirely ignore the
nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, he was once again afraid to
acknowledge something that he should have realized long ago. For
during these many months of being with Legolas, he had never once
wanted another; indeed, he was still almost mad with desire for him.

Glorfindel frowned. No, this was no time for thought - it was action
which Legolas needed. He gently cupped his prince's cheek, forcing the
still trembling youth to meet his eyes.

"Let me love you!" he whispered, breathing the tender words over
Legolas' face like a charm, or prayer. "Let me love you..."

Legolas closed his eyes, sighing in acquiscence when Glorfindel gently
pushed him back, so that he came to sit on the ground with the
softness of cool moss against his legs, his thighs.

"Shh, careful now," Glorfindel cautioned, and without ceasing to
breathe sweet little kisses all over his face, helped Legolas to lean
back so that his elbows carried his weight, keeping his bruised back
off the ground.

"Let me love you - let me care for you!" he whispered again before he
took Legolas' lips in a slow kiss, aiming for seduction rather than
domination. It was an unhurried kiss, drawn out for far longer than
Glorfindel would have normally allowed. But this was not about quick
satisfaction of his body's needs, this was about showing Legolas
affection - and if he was honest with himself, Glorfindel found this
slow little kiss far more enjoyable than many passionate trysts with
lovers past. Maybe it was the way that something so simple could
render Legolas breathless, make him flush with pleasure. Maybe it was
the soft sounds that he made, every sweet little sigh and gasp going
straight to Glorfindel's groin - or maybe it was that Legolas had
become so very dear to him, finding a way into his heart despite the
darkness of war and hate that had surrounded them.

"Ai, Legolas velui vell nín!" he sighed, a slow warmth spreading
through his body when Legolas shivered at his words, tilting his head
back in a silent offering so that Glorfindel could nuzzle his throat.
Glorfindel licked the pale skin, tasting the salt of the hot spring
and just the barest hint of the taste that was *Legolas*. He could
feel the pulse fluttering against his tongue and smiled at the way the
youth was reacting to him.

"Give yourself to me - let me care for you!" he whispered, and
rewarded it with a kiss to a rosy nipple when Legolas sighed and
closed his eyes, surrendering himself to his lord's touch. He laved
the small, berry-red nub with his tongue until it was wet and erect
and Legolas shivered each time he licked over it.

"I love how sensitive you still are," Glorfindel breathed against his
chest before he closed his lips around the nipple, gently sucking on
it while Legolas gasped and gripped Glorfindel's shoulder to steady
himself.

"Do you like that?" Glorfindel asked, laughing softly at the way
Legolas trembled when his breath moved over the glistening nub. "You
liked to nurse our son, did you not? And I loved to watch you... You
were so beautiful! I shall give you another child, Legolas, another
child to suckle on those sweet, rosy buds..."

Glorfindel gently bit the nipple, tugging on it a little before he
again took it into his mouth to suck on it, harder this time so that
Legolas cried out with pleasure.

When Glorfindel finally let go, the little nub was swollen and red,
inviting like a juicy berry, and Glorfindel found himself circling it
with his fingertips, teasing, tormenting Legolas by repeatedly rubbing
his calloused fingers over the sensitive skin. He pinched the nipple
only to hear Legolas cry out again, tugging gently with his fingers
while he remembered how sweet Legolas had looked with the babe at his
chest, vulnerable and fragile and trusting, and above all *his* - his
to possess, his to protect.

Glorfindel groaned and hungrily moved on to the other side of Legolas'
chest, tormenting that nipple with his mouth and tongue with such
vigor as though he were trying to draw out a last few drops of the
sweetness that had once nourished their child, although Legolas' chest
was flat now like that of any other male. But his nipples were just a
little bit darker, a little bit larger than those of other males, and
still they were so sensitive...

Glorfindel playfully bit the little nub, smiling when he heard Legolas
gasp. "Would you like that, Legolas?" he teased gently. "Would you
like to have another child suckling at your breast?" He moved one
nipple into his mouth again, gently sucking as if to help Legolas
remember.

"Ai!" Legolas moaned helplessly, almost gone with pleasure from the
constant, teasing touch at this over-sensitized area. "You know I
would, lord! Oh, please!" he gasped, and Glorfindel drew back with a
smile.

"No pleading, Legolas, not today - I will care for you, I will love
you like I promised."

Glorfindel moved his lips back to Legolas' chest, licking a slow, wet
path down towards the small navel which he teased with his tongue,
circling it several times until he flicked his tongue inside
repeatedly, like a cat trying to lap milk from a bowl. Legolas
squirmed a little, helpless in his arousal, and Glorfindel watched the
muscles of his stomach constrict, pleased that where he had once been
able to count ribs, he was now able to feel and see the musculature of
a well-fed, active youth.

Then he moved further downward, ignoring the slender, swollen shaft
that twitched when he moved past it. He pressed his lips to the silky
skin of the pale thighs that parted willingly for him, and he gently
encouraged them to spread further, only to deliver a playful bite to
the sensitive skin of the inner thigh, chuckling when Legolas yelped
and pulled his hand back from his shoulder to balance himself.

He drew a hand along the smooth skin in admiration. It was pale as
freshly fallen snow, and it made Glorfindel want to brand him as his,
like an animal. With a soft growl, Glorfindel gave into his impulse,
sucking on a patch of skin - not hard enough to hurt, just enough for
a reddish mark to form. When he looked up again, he saw that Legolas
was trembling, weak with desire, and Glorfindel felt his own desire
grow even stronger at the sight of the mark he had left. The redness
looked almost obscene against the paleness of Legolas' thighs.

"I have never desired another the way that I desire you..." Glorfindel
breathed, wondering how it was that Legolas could still look so
innocent, so untouched, although Elbereth knew that there should be no
innocence left at all, not after the uses he had put him to.

"You bewitch me..." He *was* bewitched - and he found that he did not
much care.

Legolas whimpered when his lord's hot breath ghosted over his
erection, his fingers digging into the earth as he tried to control
his need. Without a doubt he was trying to endure Glorfindel's
teasing, waiting for the moment when Glorfindel would end this torment
and simply take him, the way he always did.

Glorfindel grinned and swooped down to sheathe Legolas' length in his
mouth, chuckling around the hot shaft when Legolas all but shrieked in
shock.

"What - but - Ai! No!" Legolas gasped, so overcome that he could no
longer hold himself up with his arms, gasping again when his bruised
back came into sudden contact with the ground. "Ai! Do - do not - *my
lord*!" he cried, his eyes wide open in near panic at the sight of the
golden head bent over his lap.

"Why not?" Glorfindel said and smirked as he drew back for a moment.
"You are mine - and I will have you in any way that I please. Now let
me love you the way I want to..."

Legolas cried out when the hot mouth closed around him once more, and
after that he could not manage another word. Instead, the sounds that
left his lips were moans, whimpers, soft, piteous cries caused by a
pleasure almost too keen to be borne.

And all the sounds only served to make Glorfindel take him deeper,
draw on him even more voraciously. He was playing Legolas expertly,
using all the skill in the arts of love that he had garnered over two
lives, and it did not take long at all until Legolas was nearly
delirious. His hands were twisted into Glorfindel's locks - not daring
to hold him in place, never that, instead trying desperately to anchor
himself, for this pleasure - the heat, the wetness, the sensual
sliding of a skilled tongue - was something that he had never known
before.

Legolas could not hold out long in the face of such pleasure. All too
soon, it became too much, and he cried out his pleasure in what was
almost a wail, finding his completion in Glorfindel's mouth who
swallowed his sweetness with just as much voracity.

Legolas was still weak-limbed and trembling as if in a fever when
Glorfindel finally drew back, only to then tenderly draw the youth
into his arms when he joined him on the moss-covered ground.

"Shhh, no words, Legolas," Glorfindel hushed with a smile, before
Legolas could even think of speaking. He was still hard himself, but
for once, he found himself strangely moved to ignore his arousal, and
to instead spend this moment simply enjoying the feeling of the
sweaty, exhausted body in his arms

Not for long, he told himself, for Glorfindel had never been one to
deny himself, yet for this short moment he wanted to glory in the
absolute certainty that Legolas was his, and that in return, he might
just be Legolas'.

--------------------------
Ai, Legolas velui vell nín - Ah, my sweet, dear Legolas
--------------------------

39



Glorfindel trailed a finger along Legolas' trembling flank and smiled
when the youth sighed and moved deeper into his embrace.

Such tenderness Legolas woke in him, such a desire to protect, to
possess - to *love*!

No, Glorfindel thought, with all of his many lovers, it had never been
like *this*! Legolas was so much the epitome of all that had ever
attracted him that it was almost eerie - young and inexperienced,
untouched by any but him, beautiful, and eager to please. How could he
resist such perfect, natural submissiveness?

Yet it was more than all this. Legolas, for lack of a better word, was
*sweet*. He was like honey to Glorfindel's battered, weary fëa, sweet
and balming, and despite his allure, still so very innocent.

Yes, despite all that had happened to him, Legolas was still unmarred
by the pain of life, and this sweet optimism, this resilient hope, was
something Glorfindel could not help but want to protect.

"Ai, Legolas velui ammelui nín," Glorfindel whispered and took
Legolas' lips again in a tender kiss.

Legolas made a soft sound of contentment, and when their lips finally
parted, he gave Glorfindel a shy smile. "Thank you," he breathed,
still not quite able to believe what had happened. "Thank you, my
lord!"

He did not dare to say more, for fear that he might somehow destroy
this mood that had possessed Glorfindel, but there were still things
he could do to show his appreciation - things that so far had never
failed to please his lord.

With another shy smile to hide how insecure he still felt, he wound
his arms around Glorfindel's neck and moved so that his thigh slid
against his lord's erection. He flushed a little when he could feel
just how hungry Glorfindel was for him, but at the same time, he could
not help but feel pleased at the thought.

"Will you not have me, my lord?" he whispered, forcing himself to meet
Glorfindel's eyes despite his embarrassment. "I want... I want to feel
you inside me when you find your release." His cheeks were bright red,
but he was still smiling at Glorfindel, meeting his eyes to show that
he meant what he said.

"Ah, there is nothing I would like better," Glorfindel sighed. "But I
fear that now is not the right time for that, not with your back still
so bruised."

"My mouth then?" Legolas offered, then sighed when Glorfindel
indulgently shook his head. "Please, my lord, I want to give you
pleasure!" he insisted earnestly.

"You need not try and make it up to me. What I did was for you, to
give *you* pleasure - I demand nothing in return, not when I brought
you here to enjoy the healing this place offers."

"Still," Glorfindel continued with a grin, "I would not mind it at all
if you were to move * this*", he pulled one of Legolas' hands to his
mouth to press a teasing kiss to it, "to *here*, and wrap those
slender fingers around me to bring me to release in your hand. After
all, you *want* to pleasure me, and who am I to keep you from your
heart's desire?"

"And this way I can at least taste of your sweetness," he sighed and
then kissed the prince, whose long, graceful fingers were busy
pleasuring him with such endearing tenderness and admiration.

This way, it did not take long at all until Glorfindel found his
release with a muffled groan, his seed staining Legolas' fingers and
spurting onto his belly.

Legolas was silent while Glorfindel shuddered with his pleasure and
then stretched like a large, contented cat, but his fingers were
curled in Glorfindel's hair and he tenderly stroked his nape.

"I brought you here to wash yourself, and now see - I got you dirty
again," Glorfindel said with another of his rakish grins that kindled
a strange, sweet glow deep inside Legolas.

The youth coyly lowered his head and raised his hand to his face,
pretending to study the silvery essence that clung to it. "Ah, but you
need not worry, my lord; I think this can easily be cleaned without
stepping into the pool again," he said softly, his eyes filled with a
warm, teasing light when he slowly lapped at the glistening wetness
that stained his fingers.

Glorfindel held his breath. "Ai, you are wicked!" he breathed, staring
at the exquisite sight in front of him with both admiration and
hunger. "Bruises or no, if you keep this up, my sweet prince, you
shall find youself on your back as soon as we enter our talan!"

"As long as you promise to be gentle," Legolas demurred, drawing a
finger through the wet puddle on his belly for another teasing taste
of his lord.

"Wicked!" Glorfindel breathed again, delighted, and then suddenly,
there was the sound of a dry branch breaking beneath somebody's feet.

Shocked by the sudden intrusion at this private moment, Glorfindel and
Legolas turned, the latter already desperately searching for a towel
or their clothing to cover himself with. But their play had carried
them a few steps away from the place where they had dropped their
towels, and so Legolas found himself facing the glowering countenance
of his brother without even a scrap of cloth to preserve his dignity.
And even worse than facing his brother while naked, Galuron's grimace
of distaste bore witness to the fact that there was still a puddle of
Glorfindel's seed cooling on his belly, and most probably glistening
on his lips as well.

"How *dare* you intrude? Do you not know what this place is?"
Glorfindel cried in disbelief, immediately springing up to place
himself in front of Legolas, shielding him with his equally naked
body. "This is a place of healing, hallowed to all the Galadhrim!"

"If anybody is disturbing the sanctity of this spring, then it would
be you!" Galuron exclaimed in disgust. "I have made no effort to
conceal the sound of my steps! Is it my fault that you were so lost in
your depravities that you did not hear?"

"This is no place for quarrels," Glorfindel said in a dangerously soft
voice, but before Galuron could react, Legolas interrupted.

"Let it rest, my lord," he said tiredly. "He thinks me a whore, and a
traitor, and there is nothing I can do to change his mind. He had no
love for me when I was but a child begging for some affection from my
brothers, and he will have no love for me now, no matter what I say or
do."

"Ah, but you are wrong there," Galuron said darkly, his eyes lingering
on Legolas' lips. "It is what you do now that makes me abhor you. All
your accusations of rape - and here I find you licking that depraved
Noldo's seed from your fingers like a seasoned mortal whore!"

"Do you not - do you not share affection with your lovers, brother?"
Legolas asked in a small, strained voice. "Do you not delight in
giving them pleasure?"

Galuron laughed bitterly. "Lovers? Ah, you give yourself away,
Legolas. Did I not hear you say that he was your *rapist*?"

Glorfindel made a sound of disgust, but before he could say a word,
Legolas had gripped his arm to silence him.

"It was the truth, brother, even though I know you will never believe
me," he said sadly. "Just think about this one thing, if you will...
Why it is that the one who violated me is also the one who showed me
happiness, for the first time in my life? Does that make me a whore -
or does it not rather make my family monsters?"

Glorfindel looked thoughtful now, and sad as well. He raised a hand to
tenderly cup Legolas' cheek, and the prince leaned into the caress,
covering Glorfindel's hand with his own, smaller one.

"I did not feel like a whore today, or a slave... " Legolas whispered,
his eyes bright. "I felt like a lover. I... *thank you*, my lord!"

Glorfindel smiled and drew Legolas into his arms, pressing a kiss to
his brow. "You *are* beloved, Legolas, never forget that!" he
breathed, overcome with emotion.

A loud, startled gasp drove them apart. Legolas paled when he realized
that in turning into his lord's arms, he had also turned his back to
Galuron, and presented his brother with the convoluted mess of dark
bruises and red welts that Glorfindel had left on his skin.

Legolas moaned, more mortified by this than he had been about being
found by his brother with Glorfindel's seed drying on his body.

He quickly took two steps towards where they had left their towels,
and snatched one up and wrapped it around his waist. It could not hide
what the belt had done to him, nor would it erase the knowledge of
what had happened earlier from his brother's mind, but at least he no
longer felt quite so vulnerable.

"I - have you no respect for yourself?" Galuron asked, all traces of
disgust finally gone from his voice. Instead, he stared at Legolas
with shocked disbelief. "You let him do this to you, and still you
call it *happiness*?"

"Yes," Legolas said softly, "yes, I do. I... You will not understand,
I know, but I asked him for this. And I am grateful for it, too. I
would rather be with him, who punishes me for my mistakes so I may
learn to please him better, than return to the father who seemed to
punish me all the time without reason, although I have always done my
best to please him."

Legolas sighed and lowered his eyes for a moment, remembering what his
life had been like in Mirkwood. Then he resolutely shook his head.
"But that is over now," he declared. "I may never be able to fully
shake the hope of one day earning father's love - but I am no longer
dependent on it. I have my own son now, and his wellfare to worry
about. And I also have my lord, whom I... whom I want to please with
all my heart."

As he spoke, he returned to Glorfindel's side, and now he gracefully
knelt down at his feet, taking his hand into his own and pressing a
kiss to it in a bold declaration of where his allegiance now lay. "You
are my only lord; you are the only one whom I serve," he said
fervently, not caring that he was forswearing his father and Mirkwood
forever. "To you I owe the clothing that I wear, the food that I eat,
to you I even owe my son, whom I love more than anything in this
world. I shall serve you in any way that you ask, lord, and if I err,
I will gladly bear whatever punishment you deem appropriate."

Galuron laughed in bitter disbelief at the traitorous oath his brother
had spoken. "Ai, what shame you and your curse have brought on
yourself, Legolas!"

"It is no curse!" Legolas protested, "and I feel no shame, not for the
beautiful son I was given! If there is any shame, then it is for the
father that never once showed me love! How can you treat a child like
that - your own child? I cannot imagine ever looking upon Gîl with
anything but the utmost love! It is abominable... He is the one that
is cursed, not I!"

"Abominable? What do *you* know of adar?" Galuron snarled, now red
with rage. "Poor, martyred little Legolas, who runs away from his
realm to become the plaything of a Noldo - oh yes, father was cursed!
Cursed by the Valar with the darkness encroaching on our forest, and
with sons tainted by dark magic so that -"

"Sons?" Glorfindel interrupted in disbelief. "Do you expect us to
believe that you or Celeirdúr are *cursed* as well?"

Galuron fell silent. He was now trembling, but it seemed from shock
rather than rage. He abruptly turned to flee, but Glorfindel was now
enraged as well, and had long since lost any patience.

Before Galuron had managed to take more than a few steps, Glorfindel
was upon him, and both of them fell to the ground in a tangle of
limbs. With complete disregard to his nudity, Glorfindel pressed the
slighter body of Thranduil's second son into the ground, snarling when
the prince tried to fight back.

"The truth! I *will* have the truth out of you, Galuron, or Valar help
me, I will make sure that you never father any children!"

"What use have you for the truth?" Galuron shouted back. "The two of
you seem to have found your own truth - but you know nothing, Legolas,
you know *nothing*! How dare you feel sorry for yourself when father
lost a wife and a son to this curse you dare call a gift? You are a
disgrace! I wish it had been you who had died there in Elvýr's place!"

"Elvýr?" Glorfindel repeated in a dangerously soft voice. "Now this is
interesting - tell me more, Galuron. The truth, the whole truth -
*now*!"

"No!" Galuron cried, taking up his futile struggle again, until
Glorfindel finally had enough and pressed his arm down on the prince's
throat with a growl, all but cutting off the breath of his captive.

"Please, do not hurt him!" Legolas cried fearfully, but he was still
too shocked by what was happening in front of his eyes to even dare
think of helping his brother.

"Tell me!" Glorfindel seethed, "tell me, Galuron - this is your last
chance, or I swear I will kill you for all the hurt you have caused
Legolas!"

Galuron made a choked noise but continued to struggle, until finally
he was forced to give in. When Glorfindel cautiously lessened the
pressure on his throat, he gasped and hungrily sucked down air, and
then threw Legolas a poisonous look. "You want to know, Legolas?" he
rasped. "Adar has forbidden it to ever be talked about, but I cannot
bear to hear you spread your filthy lies about him, not after all he
had to suffer through! Yes, Legolas, adar is no monster - far from it!
All that he did was meant to protect you, from this curse that you
bear - and maybe even from himself! For it was *you* who sent our
mother into a grief so deep that she could no longer bear to live! It
was this curse that you carry that also killed my brother! How *dare*
you call it a gift when adar himself had to give the order to have
Elvýr's life ended? When my brother went insane with horror before he
died with the poison of orc-spawn growing in his belly?"

"I *hate* you, Legolas!" Galuron whispered fiercely, and for the first
time in his life, Legolas saw his cold, arrogant brother shed tears.
"Would that *you* had been the one raped by orcs, and not he! *You*
should have been the one to die - you traitor!"

---------------------------
Ai, Legolas velui, ammelui nín - Ah, my sweet, so very sweet Legolas
Elvýr - literally translated, the name means 'star-follower'
---------------------------