Title: Ethuil'waew
Series: prequel to Anestel
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: Glorfindel is on a secret mission in Mirkwood when he meets a
Sindarin youth by a lake... [Prequel to "Anestel"]

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


"Muindor,
Glorfindel just gave me your letter and left me alone so I could
answer. I'm so grateful, I know what risk it means for you to write to
me. If father found out, I'm sure he would get terribly angry with
you...
But I am so happy that you took this risk, It means so much to me to
get news from home.! Have you told Drauglaur in the stables that I am
well?
You have not said anything about ada, I take it he still does not
speak of me... Do you think that he will ever forgive me?
I have always tried to please him, you know, but somehow I just could
not be like you or Galuron."

With a sigh, Legolas laid the quill away and tore the paper apart,
shaking his head. He sounded like a child, like a whining little child
full of self-pity. And he wasn't a child, hadn't really been since
that one fateful afternoon at the lake, but how could he make his
brother understand that...?

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

It had been a beautiful spring day, the rays of the sun so warm that
both the horses and their young elven guard were content to doze among
the colorful spring flowers. The air was sweet with their scent, the
birds tried to best each other with their songs trying to obtain the
love of a female, and Legolas, youngest son of Thranduil, King of
Mirkwood, busied himself with making a wreath of the white and yellow
flowers with blossomed in abundance here at the side of the lake.

The day was so beaut tha that for once, he did not mind that he had to
guard the horses instead of being at home with his family. He was of
no use there, at least out here he had a function to fulfill. And he
liked the company of the horses. They were content to taste the new
grass, play with each other and every now and then, came to let him
pet them.

It was, he supposed, something he should be grateful for, yet he knew
that his father had not assigned him to this task because of his love
for the horses. Nobody ever questioned his father's treatmenthim him
and Legolas had never complained, but he knew how the life of his two
older brothers looked like, and how vastly his own differed from that
way.

They as well had served as guards to Mirkwood's horses, like every
youth aspiring to once stand in his father's service, but usually,
once they turned 35, they took up duties at the court to learn the
basics of politics before they were sent to training in weaponry. That
was what his brothers had done, and his oldest brother Celúr húr had
shown such great talent with the sword that he had been quickly given
a position as captain of a group of border guards. His father was very
proud of him, and all of Mirkwood's inhabitants felt secure in the
knowledge that if something should happen to their king, Celeirdúr
would be a worthy successor.

His other brother Galuron was less gifted when it came to
swordsmanship, although he could best most of the other guards. Still,
he had a quick mind, found pleasure in the discussion of both lore and
battle tactics with his father's generals and finally found his place
in being trained as his brother's advisor and tactician.

That left only Legolas, but so far, his father had not shown any
interest in his upbringing whatsoever. His childhood was mostly spent
with lessons with his tutors, his free time used for dreaming. His
father rarely desired to see him, and if he did, it mostly meant a
lecture for Legolas while his brother's advances in training were
praised. No matter how hard Legolas tried, he could never manage to
bring a smile to his father's lips, and so eventually he stopped
trying, dreamed through his lessons and kept to himself. He had never
had much friends, and now the only thing he looked forward to was when
Celeirdúr would find the time to spend a few minutes with him. Due to
his duties that did not happen very often, but sometimes, when he had
returned with his men from the border, he would let Legolas ride on
his horse or tell him of their latest fight with a group of orcs.

But even though his brother spent some time with him now and then, he
never dared to challenge his father's treatment of Legolas, and he did
not protest either when year after year passed and still Thranduil did
not call Legolas back to his court.

Legolas had decided that he did not care. He liked the life outside
with the horses. The other youths left him alone, both because he was
a prince and also because he was too old by now to be part of their
group. There was no need to please anybody here, and Legolas spent his
days dreaming in the warm grass.

Today was no different. With a smile, Legolas put the wreath of
flowers on his head, wondering how long the horses would withstand the
temptation to nibble on it.Then he yawned and got up. It was so warm
in the sunlight that he decided to go to the lake and swim a little,
his hair was in need of cleaning anyway as leaves and needles were
stuck in it. He'd wash it and then later let his skin dry in the sun
before it was time to return to the small huts where those not on
guard could sleep.

While he slowly wandered down to the shore, he began to tug at the
belt around his waist, finally loosening it and throwing it down to
the ground. Just when he began to unlace his leggings, though, a loud
splashing directly in front of him alerted him to the fact that he was
no longer alone. In surprise he took a few steps back, but when he saw
what had emerged from the lake directly in front of him, he could do
nothing but stare for a moment.

It was a male elf, older than him and the most magnificent being
Legolas had ever beheld. His body was golden like his hair which fell
in thick, wet curls down his shoulders and back. The waterdrops on his
skin caught the light of the sun and glistened, and then the being
shook his head so that more water ran down his chest from his hair and
stepped out of the water. Now Legolas could see that truly everything
about this elf was magnificient, and he was blushing furiously as he
had to force his eyes away from where they had strayed between the
elf's legs.

The stranger regarded him with an amused smile, his blue eyes as deep
and as mysterious as the sky. He stretched, displaying the movement of
long, hard muscles under his golden skin, and for a moment, Legolas
thought that one of the Valar had come out of the water, for surely no
ordinary elf could possess such complete, perfect beauty.

"Are you alone, pen-neth?" the stranger finally asked as Legolas did
not move. His voice was deep and smooth, golden like the sunshine in
his hair and yet laced with mystery, a dark timbre which promised
alluring things and woke desires Legolas could not find names for.

Finally Legolas managed to concentrate enough for an answer. "Y-yes,"
he stuttered, blushing again. "Who are you?"

"It was so warm, I just wanted to take a bath," the elf said without
really answering the question. "Are you supposed to watch the horses?"

Legolas nodded. "The others stayed behind because Duthiel will have
her foal tonight..." At the end of the sentence, his voice got softer
and he lowered his head as he realized that this elf would surely not
be interested in that. Once again he felt like a fool who could make
nothing right.

Soft, warm laughter finally made him raise his eyes again. The elf was
watching him with a gaze both amused and curious. "So then... I shall
keep you compay today, so that you don't feel alone out here."

"Oh no, I don't mind, I'm used to it!" Legolas quickly answered.
"And... don't you have something more important to do than wasting
your time with a stable-boy?"

"Ah, pen-neth, I do not consider this time wasted, at least not if I
have such a beautiful companion to talk with..." the stranger answered
and stepped so close to Legolas that he could wrap an arm around the
boy's waist to pull him closer. "Come, let us sit down under those
apple trees, and then you can tell me of your life here."

Legolas knew that his face was still flushed, but he could not not
suppress feeling a rush of warm excitement over the interest the
beautiful elf expressed in him. The close contact made his skin
tingle, he was so nervous that he did not dare to speak a word for
fear of saying something foolish which would made the elf realize that
he should not waste his time on him.

But the elf did not leave, instead he pulled him down beside him.
"Call me Atanóno," he offered with a smile which Legolas returned
shyly, and it was only then that he once more became aware of the fact
that the elf was still naked.

"Where are your clothes?" he asked nervously, "you should dress..."

"No, I'm still wet, I'll wait until the sun has dried me. Tell me, do
you spend all of your time here or do you also return to the king's
court now and then? Are there any news?"

"Ah, no..." Legolas whispered. Suddenly he felt ashamed that his
father thought so little of him that he could not even tell this
stranger about the latest events. "I am sorry, but I have been
guarding the horses here for a long time..."

The golden-haired elf sighed. "Oh well... there are other things we
can do than talk about politics, I would say. Your beauty would be
wasted on those dry topics anyway."

"What do you mean?" Legolas began to ask, but all of a sudden he was
interrupted by warm, demanding lips which sealed his mouth. With
shocked, wide-opened eyes he looked into the blue eyes of the stranger
which had grown suddenly dark, like a summersky overtaken by
stormclouds. Legolas shuddered. His small, frightened gasp of protest
was lost against the elf's mouth, was used also as a means of entry
for a hot, insistent tongue. Agressive and curious, it seemed to burn
its way deep into Legolas' mouth, taking him and claiming him the same
way his soul seemed to have been claimed by those mysterious eyes.

When it ended, Legolas felt lost for a moment, his body shaking in the
warm spring air like he had just lost his only source of heat.
"Delicious!" the elf purred and raised a hand to caress Legolas' hair
which was still adorned by the wreath of flowers. "Honey and apples
and flowers, you taste like a gift of the Valar. Ai, I want you...
tell me, are you still innocent? You shake like you have never been
tasted before."

"Don't!" Legolas finally protested when he found his voice back, his
hands pushing hard against the elf's broad chest. "I don't want this,
let me go!"

"No, hên lend... you are ripe, you need to be taken. I can smell it on
your skin, it would be folly to let such beauty go to waste... Those
other guards must be blind that they have not made you share all of
their beds! But I am no such fool, I will make you fall apart beneath
me, so that you will never touch another again without thinking of my
face."

"No!" Legolas protested again, his panic rising, and he tried to
escape from the elf's grasp once more. When he proved too strong for
Legolas, however, the youth finally resorted to the little tricks his
brother had shown him, elbowing him in the stomach and kicking at the
man's shins. But his opponent was stronger and more experienced by far
and always managed to escape Legolas' kicks with a smile, until
finally, as he grew more and more afraid, Legolas bit into the arm
which held him prisoner and managed to wiggle out of the grasp when
the elf pulled his hurt arm back with an annoyed groan.


Legolas managed a few steps before he was once again overtaken. The
elf's heavy body landed on top of him, pinning him to the ground with
his weight while his hands began to yank at Legolas' clothes.

"Stop it! Let me go!" Legolas begged, still trying to escape, but this
time the elf made sure he kept away from the youth's mouth.

"Oh no," he smiled coldly. "You will be mine, if only because you have
drawn my blood... I will see the blood of your innocence then spilled
today."

Legolas shook his head. Cold panic curled in his stomach, made him
shake and gasp for air, but still, despite the way his body reacted to
the threat of the man, his consciousness could not comprehend the
reality of his situation. Nobody had ever touched him, nobody had ever
shown any interest in him whatsoever, and what the elf now threatened
him with was so far from all he had so far experienced that he felt a
strange detachment, as if what was happening to him could not be
anything but a bad dream.

But when the fabric of his tunic gave and was torn from his body with
a loud, ripping sound, panic returned to him even worse than before.
There was no place for thought left, just fear, panic, the need to get
away no matter how. Again he struggled with all his strength, but the
man now took his torn tunic and bound his wrists together with it, and
then there was not much left Legolas could do.

"Why?" he gasped helplessly, not being able to understand why another
would want to hurt him. Had he done something wrong? Who was that
stranger? How could he do this? And then he could no longer think when
his leggings were stripped down and a hand spread his thighs, cupping
his soft member and his balls in a warm palm.

Legolas began to cry silently. He did not understand... why was he
punished so? What had he done wrong? "Please, please, don't..." he
whispered, begged, continued the words again and again like a prayer,
but his words were not heard. A thick finger brushed against his
opening, then forced its way inside, and Legolas almost choked on the
sob that fled his lips. It *hurt*, it burned and Legolas bit so hard
down on his lip that he could taste his own blood as the finger was
joined by another one. Together they stretched him out and it felt as
if they were trying to tear him apart from the inside.

"Elbereth, saes, saes," he sobbed as the fingers drove yet deeper into
him. "Ada, help me, ada..." But once again his father was not there
for him, had left him all alone, and deep inside himself Legolas knew
that it was too late now, that this elf would do what he wanted and
then leave him here to die of his shame.

"Ada, ada..." he whimpered a last time, his eyes open but unseeing as
tears continued to flow from them. He had stopped moving, had
surrendered himself to his despair, his breath coming in shallow gasps
as he waited for the moment his heart would break and save him from
the pain.

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

Glorfindel stripped beneath one of the trees which grew along the side
of the lake. It was a beautiful spring day, the sun was shining down
on him, and as he had nothing to do until nightfall and felt
uncomfortably sweaty and dirty, he had decided to simply take the risk
and take a quick bath. So far he had not seen anybody, but he knew
that there were usually some youths around to guard the horses.
He slipped into the water silently, very careful not to raise any
traitorous waves and as soon as he lost the ground beneath his feet,
he let himself sink down until he was completely submerged in the
delightfully cool water. It felt wonderful on his overheated skin...

He swam beneath the surface until he reached a small inlet, and only
there where rocks and a gathering of old, withering wood protected him
from the eyes of any observers, he dared to come up again. But still
nobody was to be seen, and so he rested his back against the
sun-warmed surface of a rock and enjoyed the cool water and the quiet
which was only disturbed by the singing of some birds. It was then
that he saw somebody move towards the shore, a youth clothed in the
simple, green tunic worn by those who had to guard the horses. He
seemed to be a little too old to still fulfill that task, but still...
he was beautiful! Glorfindel stared at him, took in the slender body,
the graceful movements, the pale golden hair which reflected the
sunlight... he seemed like innocence incarnate, and in that moment,
Glorfindel knew he had to have him.

Very carefully he once again submerged himself into the water and then
swam beneath the surface towards where the youth was standing. He saw
the surprise on his face when he came up, surprise and awe, but no
panic. Glorfindel allowed himself a small smile. A naive, sheltered
youth... delectable. He'd take his innocence in the sunlight, make him
disturb the quietness of the Greenwood with loud moans.

Glorfindel almost laughed out loud when the youth shook in his arms
while he kissed him deeply. Oh yes, innocent, but so wanton... and
with the flowers in his hair, he looked like a sacrificial offering
whose purity would be taken as a show of reverence.

Only that when Glorfindel ended the kiss, the youth's eyes showed
panic and he began to struggle...
It annoyed Glorfindel, but he was too experienced to be hurt by a
little stable-boy, and so he dodged the kicks without effort until he
felt a sudden, stinging pain in his arm. The Sinda had bitten him in
his panic, and in his surprise, Glorfindel had released the youth.

As he stared at the small trickle of blood on his skin, he felt a dark
rage well up within him. There had been a deep, burning anger inside
Glorfindel ever since he had seen how a company of Sindarin warriors
mistreated a Noldorin captive earlier that day and he had been unable
to do anything but watch. And now as the youth's teeth broke his skin,
the pain made him lose control, allowing his anger to rule over his
actions.

He threw himself onto the slight body, held him to the ground with his
weight while he ripped the clothes away. Oh yes, the child was
beautiful, pale and untouched and so pure that he wanted to rip his
innocence away, destroy it in pain and blood like his kin had
destroyed their captives.

He spread the Sinda's thighs apart, touched his soft member and
revelled in the helpless litttle sobs this produced. Oh yes... he
would show him how it felt to be the abused one!
He pushed one finger hard into the tight openig, felt the slender body
shake with pain and fear, then added another finger. The virgin muscle
was stretched tautly around them as if this was the utmost the youth's
body could take, but Glorfindel knew that those two fingers could not
compare by far to the girth of his erection. The thought of how tight
the Sinda would feel to him made him swell even harder, and suddenly
he could wait no longer. He pulled his fingers back and positioned his
aching hardness, and then he gripped the youth's hips and pushed
himself deep into his body, using brutal strength to overcome the
resistance of the too tight entrance.

The Sinda did not scream, and that was what made Glorfindel stop.
The body felt delicious to him, hot and tight and trembling around
him, but when he looked down, he saw that the youth's face was wet
with tears. He was ghostly pale, blood trickled from where he had
bitten his lip to stiffle hireamream and his head had rolled to the
side, eyes unfocused as he again and again whimpered for his ada in a
pitifully thin voice.

Suddenly, Glorfindel felt sick. That was not what he had wanted to do!
He had been angry, yes, had wanted to revenge the captives until all
he could think about was to somehow hurt the Sinda, but this... this
was sick. This was rape, brutal, horrible rape of an innocent no less,
and while he had often enjoyed it to force a reluctant lover to submit
to his will, he had never resorted to pure force before.

But now he was no better than those Sindarin warriors...

"I am sorry, little one," he whispered and lowered his head to the
youth's face, tenderly kissing the tears from his cheeks. "Shh, do not
cry, I won't hurt you anymore...I'll show you pleasure, believe me."

The Sinda did not react to his words, but he had stopped calling for
his ada, lying still on the ground as if he had given up all hope.
Glorfindel lovingly cupped a pale cheek in his palm and guided the
blood-covered lips to his own. He cleaned the blood away with his
tongue, then gently sucked the full lower lip into his mouth,
caressing it, tasting the sweetness of the youth before he once more
pushed his tongue deeper into the Sinda's mouth. This time he went
slowly, did not force him into submission. He tasted him gently, took
his time to explore and caress the heat of his mouth until finally
awareness returned to the youth's eyes and his body began to weakly
struggle against his captor once more.

"Shhh..." Glorfindel whispered. "Don't be afraid, I'll make the pain
go away..." Once again he kissed the soft, swollen lips while he
wrapped one hand around theth'sth's member, coaxing the limp flesh to
swell in his hands until it finally rested hard against the Sinda's
belly, pearls of lust dripping down to glisten on his pale skin. The
youth was crying once more, but this time, Glorfindel could hear his
breath hitch as unwanted, soft moans escaped the bitten lips, showing
the pleasure his body was forced to experience.

Glorfindel smiled. This was better... he would show the Sinda
pleasure, make his body explode with lust. He would not be remembered
because of the pain he had caused, no, the youth would spend his
nights thinking of how he had moaned in his arms, what pleasure he had
experienced in submitting to his enemy.

"Surrender to me..." he whispered seductively. "Beauty such as yours
should be used, should be owned... I'll show you what you were meant
for, little one."

He waited some further minutes, his hands bringing the youth again and
again to the brink of orgasm only to deny him release then, until
Glorfindel finally had the Sinda where he wanted him. The thin
shoulders beneath him were shaking and the pale skin glistened with
sweat. Tears were still sticking to the youth's long lashes,
glistening like dew in the morning-light, and when Glorfindel lowered
his head to kiss them away, the slender body arched up with a
breathless moan, thighs unvoluntarily spreading to give him better
access to the weeping erection.

"Don't feel shame, just accept that this is your place..." Glorfindel
took one of the youth's slender legs and let it rest on his shoulder,
then he began to move again. He moved slowly, gently rocking into the
tense body instead of thrusting, but nevertheless the motion produced
more pained groans, and once again tears ran down the pale cheeks.
Then Glorfindel pushed inside a little harder and suddenly, with a
thin whimper, the body clenched around him, hips bucking up when the
Noldo brushed again and again against the spot which brought the youth
such pleasure.

"See, I told you that you would enjoy this..." he purred and took the
Sinda's sweet mouth once more, continueing to rock into the trembling
body until a pained moan was breathed against his lips and the youth
came into his hand, the friction of the clenching muscles taking
Glorfindel over the edge as well.

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

Still pale and too confused to really understand what had happened to
him, Legolas whimpered softly when the elf spilled himself into his
tight passage, the torn muscle burning as it was coated with hot seed,
and when he pulled out, the sharp pain once again took away Legolas'
breath and forced new tears.

The stranger chuckled and pulled the unresisting youth to rest against
his chest. "Stop crying, you'll be healed by tomorrow. It is supposed
to hurt, so that you will never forget that it was me who you've lain
beneath the first time."

Legolas was still panting for breath. His body felt like it was
floating, glowing with the most exquisite pleasure he had ever
experienced and at the same time aflame with excruciating pain, and
yet there was some strange barriere, detaching those sensations from
his body as if he experienced them through a veil of mist. He shook
his head slightly, trying to get rid of the haze which clouded his
thoughts. "Let - let me go," he finally rasped, using his shoulder to
push himself up to his knees only to curl up into a shaking ball again
as more of the elf's essence trickled out of him, burning against his
torn skin.

Again arms closed around him and pulled him back against a broad
chest, and then once more fingers strayed between his legs and entered
him. Legolas sobbed in helpless despair as they drove deeply into him,
stretched him beyond what he thought he could endure. When they were
finally pulled out, covered with blood and semen, the golden-haired
elf wiped them on Legolas' belly and laughed softly. "You aren't hurt
that much, you'll soon start to heal. Be thankful..." he then
continued in a darker tone, "I could have treated you like your
warriors treat their captives, and then you would have been in agony
for days. Instead I gave you pleasure... or do you want to deny that?"

Legolas turned his face away, tried to block out the cruel voice, but
the elf did not allow him to simply ignore his words. He trailed his
fingers through the sticky mess on Legolas' belly, then held them up
for the youth to see his blood mingled with his own essence and that
of his captor glistening on them.

"See? You enjoyed this, didn't you, elfling? Come on, say it..."

When Legolas turned his eyes away again without answering, the elf
grew angry once more and pushed him onto his back, running his sticky
fingers over Legolas' cheeks, his lips, leaving trails of the white
fluid on his skin, finally forcing them into the elf's mouth. Legolas
flinched away in disgust but could neither escape nor wipe his face as
his wrists were still bound behind his back.

"Taste it, little one. That's what your innocence tastes like, your
innocence and the pleasure it gave me to take it from you. Do not deny
your own pleasure -- say it!" the elf threatened, and Legolas shook
his head while new tears escaped his eyes. He began to struggle which
made the older elf growl with impatient annoyance, and then... there
were the fingers again, entering him roughly so that he was sobbing
with pain once more.

"Stop it!" he begged helplessly, but the elf only laughed before he
began to curl his fingers, brushing again and again against a place
which made Legolas arch beneath him. He gripped the youth's quickly
filling organ, massaged it to full hardness while Legolas could still
feel those fingers inside him, pushing deeper into him, pulling back
again and bringing burst after burst of burning, pain-tinged pleasure.
Like bolts of silvery lightning it sizzled over his skin, exploded
behind his eyes until he was finally moaning, sighing, pleading
without knowing what he was saying, what it was he wanted.

"Do you like this?" the elf breathed into his ear, and Legolas
whimpered.

"Yes, yes, please," he begged as he writhed between the demanding
fingers. Tears of shame escaped his eyes as he was rolled onto his
stomach, pulled up to his knees so that he could feel the other elf's
hardness rub against his cleft.

"Do you want this?" the seductive voice asked, followed the question
with another hard pull at his aching member, and Legolas gave in,
forgetting all pride, all shame as he pushed back against the
hardness, begged to be taken.

It hurt like the first time as he was forced open by what felt
impossibly large, impossibly hot, but just when Legolas' knees gave
and he slumped forward with a thin sound of pain the elf pushed deep
into him, and once more the pain vanished beneath a veil of passion
which banned all other sensations. Pleasure, lust, wanton abandon
beneath the strong hands which held him up against the body which
possessed him so completely until he came again with a long,
shuddering moan, followed by a throaty growl as the stranger reached
completion inside him.

This time Legolas was too weak to even think of flight. His body was
still shuddering, his mind exhausted beyond belief by all the
conflicting sensations he had to endure. All Legolas wanted was to
curl up in his bed beneath the cover where nobody would find him, but
the golden-haired elf still held him tightly in his arms and prevented
escape. Legolas knew that he was still in danger, should try to flee,
should at least stay awake lest the elf hurt him even more, but he was
so exhausted, his mind desperately needing the refuge only true sleep
could bring it while his hurt body needed the energy to start healing.

"Yes, sleep, little one," the elf purred. "Sleep, and never forget my
face. Never forget that it was Glorfindel of Imladris who took your
innocence and showed you pleasure."

As he heard that name, Legolas' eyes filled with horror, but it was
too late, the grip sleep had im aim already too deep, and so his head
sank against Glorfindel's chest in a gesture of seeming trust as his
eyes glazed over with sleep.

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

When Legolas woke up several hours later, he was alone. The shadows
were getting longer, and for one moment, he wondered why he had fallen
asleep when it had been his task to guard the horses, but then he
moved... Hot pain shot through his belly, made him gasp and curl up on
the ground. He remembered now, remembered how that golden-haired elf
had overpowered him, ravished him...

With a soft sob, Legolas pulled himself up to his knees. It hurt, it
still hurt, and he felt terribly sore and -- used, yes. He felt used,
inside and out. He felt like this wasn't him anymore, this had to be
another elf, for surely this could not have happened to him?

But the evidence of what had happened was still there... dried semen,
sticking to his skin, mingled with dark traces of his own blood. And
he reeked! Sex, lust, the stranger's sweat -- the scent clung to his
skin, made him feel dirty. Slowly he got up, whimpering softly at the
ache between his legs. It hurt to move, but he could not stay here,
not like this, he needed to get clean... he stumbled forward until he
reached the shore, and then simply let himself fall forward into the
shallow water, resting on hands and knees, his head bowed. The cool
water played around his body, soothed his aching flesh at least a
little, and finally, Legolas found enough strength to weakly scrub at
the spots of dried seed on his skin. Tears ran down his face while he
cleaned himself, but he was so caught up in the task of removing all
traces of that event that he did not even notice them. All he could
think about was what had happened to him, it replayed in his mind
again and again. The man's words, the weight of his body, the pain --
and yes, the pleasure. The ultimate humiliation as he writhed beneath
him in wanton abandon, as he begged for more.

"Disgusting!" he sobbed out loud, "I'm disgusting! You were right to
send me away, ada!" He settled on his knees, wrapped his arms around
his body as he shook with the force of his sobs. He had not wanted it
-- but he had begged for it, hadn't he? And now... now he was dirty
and would never be clean again. He had surrendered himself to a Noldo,
to an enemy of their kingdom... and not just any enemy! Glorfindel the
infamous Balrog-slayer, good friend and right hand of Elrond Peredhel!

"Ai!" Legolas moaned, "Ai, ada! Forgive me! I did not know it! I did
not mean to betray you!"

But it was too late now, he could not change what had happened. He was
tainted, would always be. He would never be able to forget
Glorfindel's face, would never forget how his body had surrendered to
the pleasure that was forced onto him. He had been shown his weakness,
his failings as a prince of their people, and by an enemy no less...

His tears continued to run down his face and drip into the lake while
he kneeled in the water, shaking as he fully realized what had
happened. Every chance he had ever hoped to get to finally win their
father's love, it would never happen now. He could never be a prince
such as his brothers now, he would always remember just how weak he
really was.

Had his father known? Had he known how weak, how unworthy he was and
not allowed him to return to the court because of that?

"You were right, ada..." Legolas whispered. "I'm not worth your
love... I will no longer ask to be allowed to return, I will stay
here."

He stood up, the water dripping down his body. The sun was already
low, the shadows long and a cool wind touched his skin, but he did not
feel the cold. Neither did he feel the pain of his abused flesh, all
he felt was exhaustion. It stiffled every thought like a dark blanket
over his mind, made him want to forget everything that had happened
and just lie down somewhere and sleep for weeks.

Slowly, he made his way out of the water to where his clothes were
still lying in the grass. He dressed with stiff movements, then began
the walk back to the huts, his arms wrapped around his waist to keep
his torn tunic closed. He wanted to sleep, yes, sleep until all this
had vanished somehow, until his life was back to what it had been this
morning.

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

It took a week until Legolas dared to go out to the lake again. The
first day he had spent in his bed, crying silently as he again and
again remembered how he had betrayed their people. But Glorfindel had
been right in one thing, at least -- the torn muscle had mended and
the pain had lessened a little, although he still felt terribly sore,
and as he carefully applied some salve to his opening, the skin felt
hot and swollen. The next day it had been his turn once more to guard
the horses, but as another mare had to stay at the stables, Legolas
volunteered to stay there and watch her for the next days. It was a
lonely and boring work to stay inside the stable with only the sick
mare for company, but Legolas was glad that he did not have to move
much, for he still felt the result of being stretched so thoroughly.
And furthermore, although he did not want to admit it even to himself,
he was deeply frightened of going back to where he had met Glorfindel
for the first time. Who was to say that the elf was not still around?
And Legolas would rather die than meet him again...

The knowledge that - unbeknownst to their guards - there was a spy in
their midst made him feel even more ashamed; it was a further betrayal
not to warn his father. But no matter how much Legolas wanted to tell
his father or one of his advisors, he could not. Telling them about
Glorfindel's presence would lead to questions, and he could not answer
them, he could not. Nobody could know this, know the shame he had
brought upon himself. He did not want to see disgust substitute the
usual emotionlessness in his father's eyes, he would rather stay with
the horses for the rest of his time.

And surely the Noldo was back at Imladris by now, Legolas tried to
reason with himself. It would be dangerous to stay here for a longer
time, no matter how cunning Glorfindel might be, Mirkwood's guards
would find traces of him sooner or later. No, Glorfindel had surely
left days ago and Legolas would never see him again. And it was not as
if Legolas had to go out to the lake by himself, three more youths
were already there, he would not be alone this time.

And yet, when Legolas once more reached the tree underneath which the
Noldo had taken him, he began to tremble and had to fight hard against
the urge to run back to their huts and hide there. But then he heard
one of the other stableboys call his name and he followed the summon
with a relieved sigh. He was not alone now, and he was not that naive
anymore either. This would never happen to him again... he would stay
with the horses, and somehow, things would be like they were before.


Nevertheless, when his 40th begetting day arrived several weeks later,
he was no longer so sure that he indeed wanted things to remain as
they had been before.
In the weeks before he had met Glorfindel, he had dreamed of his
father calling him back to court, giving him an assignment there,
giving him his attention, his love... and yet, he always knew that his
father would not do that. Now he was afraid of meeting him, of being
known for the wanton, dirty traitor he really was, for surely it had
to be visible to his father what he had done. And yet there was still
a small part inside of him which wanted to be enclosed by his father's
arms, wanted to cry against his chest and be comforted by him.

That dream died when on the morning of his begetting day a letter
arrived. It was a letter from his father -- no, a letter in his
father's name, written and signed by one of his advisors. In a few
short sentences, Legolas was told that because of the ongoing war with
Rivendell and Lorien, his father did not think it appropriate to
celebrate his begetting day and so Legolas should remain with the
horses and do his duty.

Legolas had long since thought himself steeled against his father's
lack of interest in him, and yet he began to cry. He did not want to
but somehow he could not stop the tears which ran down his cheeks. It
hurt. After all these years, it still hurt so much to be shown how
little was thought of him. Furiously, he wiped at his eyes, but still
more tears escaped them, until he finally threw the letter to the
ground and ran. He was running without aim, only wanted to leave
everything behind him, his father, Glorfindel, the pain and, above
all, the failure he himself was.

He had no idea how much time had passed, it could have been hours or
mere minutes, but finally his legs did not want to carry him any
longer and he sank to the ground beneath an old, gnarled tree. For
long minutes he sat there, gasping for air, crying and hating himself
because of it, until he heard a twig snap. And when he looked up he
found that it was Glorfindel who stood in front of him, Glorfindel who
answered the tearful gaze from his dark, wounded eyes with detached
curiosity.

Legolas could not move or speak. He knew he was trembling but he could
not stop; he felt like he was frozen, Glorfindel's eyes holding him
captive. Several moments passed during which the older elf was
apparently content to watch the frightened youth in front of him,
until he finally moved and broke the spell that held Legolas captive.

Legolas flinched back as Glorfindel kneeled down in front of him, but
as he sat with his back to the tree and Glorfindel's hands now rested
on the bark right and left of his shoulders, he was virtually
imprisoned.

"Why are you crying, elfling?" Glorfindel asked with a smile. "Is it
because you missed my touch? Have you been yearning for me?"

Legolas shook his head, feeling how panic returned to him once more.
"No please, just leave me alone!" he begged. His voice was trembling
and he hated himself for how weak he sounded, but there was nothing he
could do. He felt paralyzed by Glorfindel's dark, blue eyes, his scent
which reminded him of how he had lain helplessly beneath him...

"Ah... I would if it were indeed what you de, bu, but... you do not
speak the truth, you do not want me to go. I know that you enjoyed
what I did, missed what only I could give you, for there were never
any warriors searching for me. You did not tell anybody, did you?"
Glorfindel was still smiling at Legolas as he studied him with both
amusement and curiosity.

Legolas' eyes widened in shock before he quickly lowered his gaze,
shying away from the hand that tried to raise his chin. "No!" he
protested, "no, I did not miss you! Leave me be!"

"I don't think so!" Glorfindel breathed against his cheek. "You're
blushing, little one... does it arouse you to think of what I did to
you? Tell me, did you think of me when you touched yourself at night?"

"No! No, please, just let me go! I will not tell anybody!" Legolas
begged, his panic rising once more as Glorfindel's fingers lazily
traced circles on his chest.

"Why should I? I was bored... but now that you are here, there are
ways to entertain myself. And I know that you will not tell anybody,
just like you did not tell them the last time."

Legolas was shaking with fear. Glorfindel was too close, his
hypnotizingly blue eyes directly in front of his, his lips only a
hair's breadth away from his own mouth... Legolas was enveloped by
hcentcent, surrounded by his golden hair, once more a prisoner of the
Noldo's charisma. It frenedened him, the way he felt like a helpless
small animal which had fallen prey to a predator whenever the elf
looked at him, but he was not able to fight against that fear. And
Glorfindel's words and the memories they brought finally supplied the
needed incentive to let panic win over paralyzation.

Legolas jerked back from Glorfindel's touch, threw himself with all
his weight against the elf's arm at his side only to tumble into the
grass with Glorfindel on top who had quickly reacted and grabbed the
youth's arm.

Legolas fought against Glorfindel's hold, but he stood no chance
against the experienced warrior. It only took some moments until
Glorfndel had bent one of Legolas' arms back, threatening to break it
should Legolas continue to struggle. Softly sobbing, Legolas ceased
all motion, surrendering himself to the Noldo. It was too late now...
he would be hurt once more. He had run to escape the pain his father
kept causing him only to find new humiliation, new pain. Was tthe the
Valar's gift on this day, to make him fully realize his weakness, his
worthlessness?

Legolas closed his eyes, not wanting to see the disgust the Noldo had
to feel as he gave in to his despair. He was crying, his entire body
shaking with the force of his sobs, waiting for the elf to
sttouctouching him, hurting him. But when he finally felt Glorfindel's
hands, they did not brutally rip his clothes off, no... slowly and
gently, the elf turned him around until he rested in his arms.

"Shhh, little one," Glorfindel soothed. "Do not be afraid. It does not
always have to be painful... beg me to be gentle with you and I won't
hurt you."

Legolas closed his eyes, shaking beneath him. What good was it to
resist? He would only be hurt again -- and he was not sure if he could
take any more pain. All he wanted was for this to stop, for everything
to stop. There must have been something he had done sometime in the
past, something which had caused all of this to happen to him. But he
could not remember, no matter how hard he tried to, it seemed like he
had always lik like this, so wrong and hopeless...

"Beg, little one..." the voice whispered once more into his ear, so
seductive with its fake tenderness. And why should he care if it was
only faked? It would be more than his father had ever given him... Why
not simply give in then and hope that he wouldn't be hurt anymore? All
the other alternatives meant pain, and Legolas could bear no more of
it.

With a sigh he stilled, his head resting against the elf's shoulder,
his lips brushing the goldenr. "r. "Please... please be gentle..."

"Very good, child!" Glorfindel bent down to reward him with a tender
kiss. "And now beg me to take you."

Legolas froze, then bowed his head as once more tears ran down his
cheeks. It did not matter anymore... it was too late for courage, too
late to think about how he betrayed his people by allowing this. He
was already tainted, a traitor -- he would never be able to forget
this again.

"Please take me, take me gently..." he whispered finally, trembling
harder as he gave himself over to whatever the Noldo might want to do
to him.

The following days Legolas spent as if in a daze. Glorfindel had
stayed true to his promise and not hurt him, but although he was able
to move without the discomfort the first encounter had left, now the
fear was back. The fear that Glorfindel would search him out again,
that he could never feel secure again in this wood. And above all,
there was shame...

Shame that he had allowed this to happen, shame that he had not fought
it. And yes, more shame because he was a traitor, because he allowed a
Noldorin spy to stay in their wood without telling his father. Who
knew what plans might come of this -- perhaps the Noldor were planning
a sursprise attack? It would be his fault then if people were killed
-- and still, he felt as if somebody had frozen him, frozen his
thoughts, his mind. He was not able to forget what had happened, could
not move on. Again and again he remembered what Glorfindel had done to
him, what he had made him feel... and yet he could never find the
strength in himself to act. He could not tell them of his shame, not
even if his silence endangered their kingdom.

The only thing he wanted was to be left alone. He wanted to hide,
spend his time alone with the horses. He did not need the company of
the others, did not want his father to acknowledge his existance any
more, and above all, he did not want to meet Glorfindel again.

And at least that last wish was granted him. The Noldo did not appear
again. If this meant that he had left Mirkwood or had lost interest in
him, Legolas did not know or care about, all he knew was that he
slowly began to lose his fear after his life had returned to its usual
quiet routine after wee weeks.

And yet, that routine was shattered by some very strange changes in
his body which Legolas could find no explanation for. He felt --
different, ever since he had been with Glorfl fol for the first time.
At the beginning he had thought that it was because his body was still
healing, but the feeling was still there and he was not sure what it
meant. He had never felt anything like it before, it felt as if
something inside him had changed... but he had not the least idea what
this could mean. And in the last few days, he had felt nauseous as
soon as he woke and was often unable to keep his food down. It scared
him for these bouts of sickness were unheard of for most elves -- if
an elf was sick, it usually had something to do with poison.

Legolas was sure, though, that he had not eaten anything poisonous,
and after some days, he was relieved that - although he still was
frequently sick - his condition did not seem to be worsening. He knew
that he should go and see a healer, but he did not dare to. Somehow he
felt like this was all connected to Glorfindel, and although his
wounds were healed by now, he was scared of showing his body to
another elf, always fearing that they might be able to see the taint
Glorfindel's touch had left on his skin.

It took some more weeks until a new change occured which this time was
finally enough to make Legolas realize that he could no longer simply
ignore his condition. His belly had begun to swell, it was hard and
slightly rounded, and although it was not visible to any of the other
youths, Legolas felt that something was seriously wrong with him.
Something he could no longer ignore -- he needed to see a healer. And
that meant returning to his father's court...

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

The healer's eyes refused to meet his as he turned to the window after
having examined him.

"What is wrong with me?" Legolas asked, causing the other elf to shake
his head, waiting with his answer as if he was not quite sure himself.

"You are pregnant," he finally said. "I don't know how you managed
this, but I will have to tell your father."

"No!" Legolas quickly protested, shaking his head in fear. "No, you
cannot tell him! This is impossible, you must have made a mistake!"

"He never told you, did he? It *is* possible, rare, but possible, and
that gift has apparently resurfaced once more in your line."

"But... how..." Legolas paled and started to shake. Glorfindel. Oh, by
the Valar, did that mean that he was pregnant with Glorfindel's child?

"How? I'm quite sure you of all people know *how* this happened," the
healer snorted. "And you can explain that to your father. I'm sure he
will want to know more about the how!"

"My father -- ai, don't tell him, please! I will... I will do it
myself!" With trembling fingers, Legolas closed his tunic and got up.
This would be... bad. Very bad. But now that the healer knew, there
was no way he could escape this, his father would learn about it
either way. And he would like to be close to his father when he
learned of his shame -- at least that would spare him the agonizing
wait.

"Very well, I believe the king is currently in the Great Hall, holding
council with his advisors."

Through the smirk on the healer's lips, Legolas knew that it would not
help to ask for a few hours of delay until he could see his father
alone. But in the end, it did not matter, fur surely in some hours the
entire kingdom would know...

Slowly and with his head bowed, he went to the Great Hall. He could
hear the voice of his father from afar, angrily cutting through the
quarreling of his advisors until they quieted. Legolas flinched. His
father was already angry... and in just a few minutes, that anger
would grow even deeper. Legolas was afraid. If his father found out
that it was Glorfindel he had given himself to, that he carried the
child of a Noldo... banishment would be his best option, death another
which he would not quite put behind his father either.

In some minutes, his fate would be decided... With a sigh, he pushed
the thick, oaken door open and entered the hall. His father's advisors
quieted when they saw him and let him walk through their ranks
undisturbed until he stood in front of his father's throne. For a
short moment, he believed to see something like pain in Thranduil's
eyes, but then all emotion left them and was instead replaced by
coldness.

"Legolas," he was adressed sharply. "What brings you here, failing
your duties as guard?"

"I am sorry, father," Legolas said softly, already feeling the weight
of Thranduil's disgust. "I had to tell you -- I am... pregnant."

Silence in the hall. None of the advisors dared to speak. Finally it
was Thranduil who overcame his shock with the help of the anger
Legolas had already anticipated. "Who? Who was it? Tell me, whore,
whom did you seduce? None of your fellow guards, they know better than
to risk my ire! They were forbidden to touch you!"

"Forbidden? Then -- you knew?"

"Yes, I knew of your weakness, but that does not matter. Tell me, or I
will throw you into the dungeons. Who was it?"

"It was a, a... a human!" Legolas lied in desperation. If his father
knew about Glorfindel... he would have the child be killed in his
anger. And as much as Legolas himself was shocked and scared about
carrying the Noldo's child, he could not let any harm come to it. "A
human, father, who had managed to enter the wood without your guards
noticing. He is gone now..."

"A human? You lay with a dirty human? Do you have no self-respect? How
could you bring such shame on yourself?" Thranduil jumped up, his eyes
dark with anger. "How dare you, whore!"

Legolas gasped in shock as hatheather slapped him hard. He took a few
steps back, bringing his hand to his cheek. "Please, I did not know,
father!"

"You're a disgrace! You are no longer my son! Leave, leave me kingdom
and never come back or I will have you thrown into the dungeons!"

"But, ada..." Legolas whispered plaintively, tears running down his
face. How could his father be so cold? What had he ever done to
deserve this hostility?

"Now!" Thranduil hissed and pulled his sword from its scabbard. "Or I
will kill you myself, I swear it!"

Legolas sobbed, blinded by tears as he turned around and fled. He was
not able to think rationally, all he knew was that he needed to get
away as far as possible. He had no friends, no allies, had never left
Mirkwood be... ... but there had to be a place somewhere where he
would not be turned away. Still sobbing, he climbed onto the back of
his mare and urged her forward, faster and faster until he no longer
knew where he was, and then he cried even harder, holding on to
Lainiell's mane as he left it to her to decide upon a direction.


~The End~


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ethuil'waew = spring-storm
muindor = dear brother
pen-neth = young one
Atanóno = the reborn one
hên lend = sweet child
saes = please
ada = father
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you want to know how the story of Legolas and Glorfindel continues,
read the sequels "Anestel" (completed) and "Cuil Eden" (WIP). :)