Pen-Estel

Chapter Ten

Legolas followed Glorfindel down the corridor to the dining hall in dread. His feelings were a confused muddle. First, there was the joy of being with Glorfindel again, and the subsequent dismay at being told that he would return to Elrond, and now… Now he would have to face Elrond, whom he had left alone willingly at Glorfindel’s command. Certainly, things had not been quite the same since Glorfindel had visited them and made Elrond hurt him, but he still feared meeting the Lord’s eyes.

Well, it was easy! He would simply not look! For so long he had been quiet and submissive at mealtimes, hardly lifting his head unless it was to look at Glorfindel, no one would consider it strange if he did not look around him. That is, if they even noticed, he thought sadly.

He supposed that rumours were already circulating about him, and could well imagine the kinds of things that were said. No, it would be better if he just stayed silent and close to his Lord for now. He did not think he could bear the weight of their gossip, speculation and scorn on top of everything else he had endured lately.

So it was that when they entered, Legolas kept his eyes down to the floor, following Glorfindel’s feet like a faithful dog. But then he looked up in confusion when Glorfindel seated himself at the table. He had chosen a space between two of his Captains and immediately began talking to them animatedly, ignoring Legolas. In some confusion he looked around.

Usually, Glorfindel would take his place next to Elrond, and he would take Glorfindel’s other side. He caught several amused glances directed his way, and blushed self-consciously as he looked around for somewhere to sit. There was one space left… next to Elrond. Legolas looked to Glorfindel in mute appeal, but his Lord was still ignoring him, and he sighed softly before taking his place next to the Lord of Imladris.

Was it his imagination, or did the hum of conversation seem to die down? He didn’t dare to look up to find out how many were looking at him, and then he heard someone giggle – perhaps the same person who had giggled at his casual humiliation when Glorfindel returned to Imladris. He slouched lower in his seat, as if he could hide from it all, not daring even to glance sideways, for then he would be looking at Elrond.

He jumped in alarm when he felt a heavy hand come to rest on his shoulder – Elrond’s hand – but he still didn’t look up. There was a grunt of disgust that could only belong to Erestor, and then the conversation seemed to start up again. After some minutes of being ignored, except for Elrond’s hand, which still rested on his shoulder, squeezing and caressing him lightly as if in reassurance, Legolas looked up and sought out Glorfindel with his eyes.

Glorfindel was still talking to his captains, but finally, he looked up for a moment. When he found Legolas’ eyes resting on him, he gave him a small smile, but then once again concentrated on the conversation. Legolas felt a light stab of pain in his heart – was it that easy for Glorfindel to let go of him again?

But no, he tried to reassure himself, Glorfindel simply knew that there was no other way – his Lord had missed him, that was the truth, and the sadness in Glorfindel’s eyes when he had told him that he would need to return to Elrond, that had been true as well. Legolas paled when, for a moment, he imagined what Glorfindel’s reaction might have been had he told him about the child... The child that was probably Elrond’s.

He swallowed. No, no that... not yet. He would need to tell Glorfindel; of course he would do it – but not now. Not when he had only just been forgiven. To go without the perfection that was a night in his Lord’s arms yet again – he could not bear even the thought of a return to that loneliness.

And the pregnancy was not visible yet. He could have days, or even weeks with Glorfindel!

Legolas felt horrible for having a thought like that. He had never been a liar, and although he by now had admitted to himself that all the other things that had been said about him were true – coward, weakling, whore – he still felt a great rush of shame at the thought of lying to Glorfindel like this. After all that he had done to Glorfindel and been forgiven for, this was yet another betrayal of the one whom he needed like no other.

The arrival of food finally broke this train of gloomy thoughts – only to lead to a new humiliation. For when a servant went around the table with a large decanter of a light white wine, Elrond ordered Legolas’ wine to be watered down. And although all the elves at the table were pretending to be engrossed in conversation with their neighbours, Legolas could again hear the whispers and the soft giggling, and he miserably kept his eyes on his plate. He knew what it looked like to them, and probably even to Glorfindel – that Elrond held his newest bedtoy to be not much better than a child, fearing that it might misbehave if it was allowed more than half a glass of wine. He was flushed with shame, but he knew that there was nothing he could do. And better they thought this than having them know the truth...

After some moments longer, he looked up, feeling someone’s eyes on him. At first he feared to be the recipient of another of Erestor’s disgusted glares, but the advisor was talking quietly to another elf who sat beside him. Legolas looked hopefully towards Glorfindel, but his Lord was ignoring him again. At last, Legolas let his gaze rove around the table, until he met with Elladan’s angry scowl.

He looked down again quickly, making a small sound of alarm that surely no one but Elrond could have heard. The Lord of Imladris let his hand leave Legolas’ shoulder, only to rest on his leg under the tablecloth, and he blushed as he realised that Elladan must have seen it. Did Elladan think Elrond was touching him? Legolas shifted uncomfortably, all the time aware of Elladan’s regard, and all the time aware he was only managing to make it look worse.

In desperation, he applied himself to the task of eating breakfast. He didn’t even look at what was put before him, and just began eating, only to find there was no escape here either. His stomach turned sickeningly, and as if to ask for strength, he clasped Elrond’s hand beneath the tablecloth.

“Are you well, pen neth?” the Lord asked quietly, so that no one would hear what was said. Legolas swallowed down the nausea, fighting it, and still he couldn’t look at Elrond. He stared down at the plate before him, the sight of the food only making him feel worse.

“I can’t eat!” he whispered, almost in terror. What would Glorfindel think? It never even occurred to him that his Lord might expect him to be unwell at the thought of leaving him. But Legolas knew this was no ordinary sickness. “What can I do?” he asked miserably, still whispering, and then he looked up at Elrond, as if expecting the Lord of Imladris to save him somehow.

Elrond calmly took away the diluted wine, and when immediately a servant came forward to ask for the Lord’s wishes, he sent him to get a bottle of Miruvor.

“It will do you good, and I shall prepare a tea for you later on,” Elrond said quietly. “But for now, the Miruvor will not only calm your stomach, but also your nerves.” He allowed Legolas to clutch his hand while the servant was gone, and all of a sudden, Legolas felt terrible for the thoughts he had had earlier. Elrond might not love him, and there had been that time when he had hurt him – but for so many days and nights, he had been kind and gentle. Had he not tried to reassure Legolas even when he found out about the child? At the very least, Elrond deserved his gratitude, Legolas thought and felt even sicker.

Then the servant returned, and although he just quietly poured the cordial into a small glass, which Elrond then gave to Legolas, the youth was still aware of the stares. Nevertheless, he gratefully drank the golden liquid and almost sighed when immediately, a comforting warmth spread through his body. He still did not think that he could eat, but it seemed that at least for the moment, he would not need to flee from the table either.

Of course, there was yet more whispering, one particular voice so loud that Legolas was almost able to understand it – but what he was not able to understand, he could complete in his mind. For he knew that voice, and truly, there was only one person in attendance who would dare to speak so at the Lord’s own table.

“Maybe my Lord father should search for a... less fragile toy,” Elladan whispered to his neighbour, although it was just loud enough to ensure that the entire table could hear it, “if that weak little Sinda will need such expensive invigoration after every night of service in the bedroom.”

Legolas paled, and yet at Elladan’s words at least several elves looked away from him… at Glorfindel. At first Legolas wondered why, and then he actually moaned out loud in shame. He had come in with Glorfindel, even if he was now clearly with Elrond. He heard Elladan laugh harshly, and under the table he gripped Elrond’s hand even more tightly. He didn’t look up until he heard a choked sound of surprise.

Now when he looked, Elladan didn’t seem quite as assured or fearsome. He had gone quite pale himself as he stared at his father, and Legolas followed his gaze to see Elrond favouring his own son with such a stern look it frightened him, and made him remember how it had felt to have that coldness focused on him. Legolas trembled slightly, and looked towards Glorfindel again, only to find that he too glared at Elladan with undisguised displeasure.

“I don’t believe it!” Elladan declared loudly at last, looking from one to the other in complete disgust. “For that?!” he insisted, gesturing carelessly at Legolas as though the idea were ridiculous. Then Elladan looked at him again, a cold sneer twisting his face as he stood up to leave. But Elrond stood too, and Legolas let go of the Lord’s hand, his own sinking back down into his lap uselessly.

“A word with you, Elladan,” Elrond said, far too quietly for it to be anything other than a command, and Legolas watched as Elladan rolled his eyes, but still left his seat to walk around the table towards his father.

“Wait for me in my rooms,” Elrond said softly as an aside to Legolas, and then walked away, Elladan bristling with anger and indignation behind him. But before they left Elladan turned and gave Legolas a threatening smirk. It was clear that Elladan didn’t intend to let it rest now – whatever his father said to him, and Legolas swallowed nervously.

He stayed as long as he had to after they had gone, picking at the food before him without much success, despite the Miruvor. But soon after, Legolas too fled from the table, with one last look at Glorfindel while one or two threw knowing glances at him.

He was glad to have a few minutes alone to himself as he reached Elrond’s rooms. Truly, there had been worse things said about him, but with the new situation, he felt more insecure than ever. That Elladan hated him he had never doubted, especially since Elrohir had gone to Mirkwood – yet would that reaction change if he knew that Legolas was carrying his... Legolas swallowed, then deliberately made himself think the words. Elladan’s step-brother, or -sister.

Would that change his behaviour? To know that Legolas was no mere bed-toy for his father, but that he had become pregnant and would give Elrond another child? Or Glorfindel... a voice whispered in Legolas’ head, and for a moment he allowed himself to think of it. Holding another tiny, golden-haired child in his arms, with Glorfindel proudly beaming at him, full of love for his second child...

But then he remembered that Elrond had said that it would most probably be his, and he sighed. Elrond had seemed truly happy at the news, and still... He felt terrible again for thinking this, but he knew that he would do almost anything if only the child could be Glorfindel’s.

After all, no matter what he might hope and what Elrond might promise, he had seen it all too clearly in Elladan’s eyes today – the child would never be anything but a bastard to him, gotten on a Sindarin whore who already had given a child to another.

Legolas sat down, as he suddenly felt sick once again. There was no Miruvor here, at least none that he could see, so he had no other choice but wait for Elrond to return.

Yet he did not have to wait very long, and as soon as the Lord saw how pale he was, he began preparing a tea for him that Legolas soon recognised from the unpleasant smell. It tasted just as bad as the smell promised, but by the time it was finished Legolas was so grateful that he only wrinkled his nose before he emptied the cup without protest.

“Thank you, my Lord,” he finally sighed. “I have not missed the taste of this tea, but I am still grateful for it, because this nausea is something I have missed even less.”

Elrond walked over to the window with a sigh. After last night he had not expected to have Legolas back with him ever again. When he had realised the youth wasn’t coming back he had been partly glad, because it meant he was with Glorfindel, as he should be. He hoped then that things would return to the way they ought to be. Knowing that didn’t go any way towards relieving the sudden return of his loneliness however.

Now it would seem things hadn’t worked out as he had hoped. Why had Glorfindel left Legolas to him? Was it a trick of some kind? Had he only used the youth for a night, and now already tired of him… Elrond shook his head as he ran through all the possible reasons in his mind, before realising at last there was one who could tell him the answer.

“What happened between you, pen neth?” he asked gently, watching for Legolas’ reaction more than listening to his words.

He nodded when Legolas babbled something about Glorfindel keeping him there, and smiled when he saw Legolas trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make things worse for him.

“Legolas, you don’t need to hide anything from me,” he broke in, trying to reassure the youth. “I know how you feel about Glorfindel.” Legolas blushed and looked away, a habit that Elrond couldn’t help but find endearing, and he carried on speaking before his mind became clouded with desire. After all, Legolas was here with him, and surely Glorfindel knew what would happen, whatever his motive? “Did you reach a reconciliation?”

“Yes,” Legolas replied softly, and although it seemed there were a thousand other things he wanted to say, he didn’t speak them. Elrond made his way over to the settee and sat down beside Legolas, lifting his face tenderly.

“Then there is hope,” he said kindly, with a smile. But when Legolas smiled back at him there was a change in Elrond. All of his loneliness came back, and he needed just to taste it one more time, if he were playing into Glorfindel’s hands or not. He leaned closer, almost as if to test something, and when Legolas didn’t flinch away, Elrond gave in to the moment, taking the lips of the youth in a slow kiss.

He sighed a little when he finally had to end the kiss. Legolas eyes were half-closed, his lips red and moist, and his expression so dreamy that Elrond just could not feel guilty for what he was doing.

And after all, there was the fact that Glorfindel himself had sent Legolas back to him – back into his bed. Was it self-serving of him then to take him up on that offer? He had been alone for so long that he had almost forgotten what pleasure it was to simple feel another warm body next to him at night... And now that he had had Legolas’ company for so long, it was even harder to return to his former life of lonely nights and an empty, cold bed.

“He sent you to me,” he stated, and Legolas nodded, blushing again in that irresistible way of his.

“Why?” Elrond then asked, and now Legolas finally looked away.

“I do not know,” the youth admitted after a moment, and in his face Elrond could easily find an answer for his troubled voice - Legolas had not wanted to return. There was jealousy, for a moment, and something that almost resembled pain, but then Elrond made himself remember how he himself had once told the youth that what was between them was not love.

And it was still the truth, Elrond knew that. But he also realised that what he had promised Legolas - that it was at least affection - was true as well. He did feel affection for the young prince, and he missed him, for more than just his service in the bedroom.

“He has forgiven you, that is all that matters,” Elrond said kindly, for he knew that there was not much sense in asking further questions – Legolas seemed so grateful to be allowed back into Glorfindel’s arms that he probably would go along with anything Glorfindel asked without questioning his Lord. “But I wonder... have you told him of the child yet?”

Legolas seemed even more miserable now. “No,” he admitted in a low voice. “I could not... forgive me, my Lord.”

He said he could not, but Elrond heard the truth: “I dare not…” and he sighed. It was about time he and Glorfindel had a talk about this. Elrond had no illusions. Any conversation they had about Legolas would be highly charged and dangerous – the talk he had given to Elladan earlier would be simple in comparison.

“Would you like me to inform him?” Elrond asked quietly, secretly without much enthusiasm, so that when Legolas responded in the negative, he was pleased.

“No! Please don’t!” he begged, although surely by now Legolas realised he didn’t have to beg. “Anything,” he said suddenly. “Just please don’t tell him!” And Elrond had a flash of understanding then. He remembered how Legolas had reacted at the onset, when he had first taken him. The threats he had used then were despicable, but they had got him what he wanted... quite easily. And if now, Legolas needed something like that to assuage his conscience, then Elrond would do it.

“Anything?” he said, deliberately suggestive as he began to unlace Legolas’ tunic. He saw the sudden bright fear in Legolas’ eyes, but also something else. His relief perhaps at having the choice taken from him. But instead of taking the advantage offered to him, Elrond began to examine Legolas’ body for any sign of change. Soon he had relieved Legolas of his tunic, and Elrond carefully felt around his belly.

“How long was it last time before the nausea began?” he asked, hoping that Legolas would remember. It was the only clue they would have as to whose child this was. Although Glorfindel had been able to tell Gîlríon was his from Legolas’ purity before, there was no such option now, Elrond thought with a sigh of regret for what he had done… and would do again. There was no point in denying it, he wanted Legolas, and he would have him.

“I cannot remember, my Lord,” Legolas said in misery, and Elrond frowned. “But not more than a few weeks, I think.” So, the child could still belong to either one of them. Despite the fact that it would be better all round were the child Glorfindel’s, Elrond couldn’t help feeling relief at Legolas’ admission. He couldn’t lie to himself – he wanted the child to be his. As he thought that, his touches became gentler and less purposeful… or perhaps more so.

“Please,” Legolas began, already trembling as Elrond covered his slighter form to lie on the settee with him.

“Anything, Legolas,” Elrond reminded him simply, and took Legolas’ lips again, for longer this time, savouring the submission that meant Legolas was his… at least for now.

“You will stay with me tonight,“ Elrond finally said, and Legolas swallowed and nodded. Then Elrond smiled and once again allowed his hands to stray to Legolas’ belly... and lower still. Legolas kept still while Elrond began to work on the lacing there as well, but he was breathing faster now – and very soon, Elrond could feel for himself that, even though he had given the youth no other choice, Legolas wanted it too.

Elrond smiled at the soft sigh that he got when he wrapped his fingers around Legolas’ shaft and encouraged him to further sounds with gentle strokes. Then finally, he stopped again – this time forcing a disappointed moan from Legolas’ lips – to look around with a frown. Should he take Legolas back to the bed? The settee was not very comfortable, at least not afterwards, when he wanted nothing more but to rest for a while with Legolas warm and tired against his chest.

Maybe, just this one time, he could ask Legolas about his desires – certainly that was something that was very rare in Glorfindel’s bed? But then, that would be cruel, after he had already taken all choice away from Legolas.

“Come, to the bed,” he finally said when he realised that one of them would have had to get up for the oil anyway.

Legolas dutifully got up from the settee, leaving his clothes there, and let Elrond guide him to the bed in silence. But instead of allowing Legolas to lie down, Elrond had him sit on the side of the bed so that he could kneel before him and taste his sweet lips again. Legolas kissed him back this time, and brought his hands up to Elrond’s shoulders. Remembering once more how he had reacted at first, Elrond took hold of Legolas’ wrists and held them behind his back.

As before, Legolas moaned helplessly as Elrond continued to plunder his mouth. It was a sweet sound, and it meant Legolas was enjoying what was happening to him. Elrond came to a sudden decision.

Letting go of the youth completely, he stood up and stepped back, making sure that Legolas’ eyes were on him all the time. Slowly, he undid the sash of his robe, and drew it away from his clothing into his hands. Then, kneeling swiftly, he held it out between his hands so that he covered Legolas’ eyes with it. Elrond heard the youth’s slight intake of breath, and kissed him like this briefly, enjoying his trembling and uncertainty.

But then he lifted the improvised blindfold, and with his arms around Legolas, he took hold of his hands too, to draw them back behind him again. They looked at each other as Elrond bound Legolas’ hands, and for a moment there was a look of pure desire in Legolas’ eyes, followed quickly by fear when he realised how helpless he was.

“I will not hurt you, pen neth,” Elrond said seriously. “You know that, don’t you?” Slowly, Legolas nodded, and Elrond rewarded him with another kiss. This time Elrond could feel the effect of the restraint in Legolas’ responses, and he wondered why he hadn’t done this that first time, when he had found out about Legolas’ weakness in Glorfindel’s rooms.

Legolas was already breathing faster when they parted, and he turned his head in such a way that exposed the elegant line of his neck. It was a gesture that accentuated his vulnerability, and Elrond smiled.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he asked, leaning in to nibble the hollow of Legolas’ throat, robbing him of any answer he might have had, and then gently pushing him backwards so that he was fully on the bed.

Elrond undressed slowly, watching Legolas all the time, noting how the muscles in his upper arms tensed and relaxed as he tested the binds around his wrists. He brought the oil with him, and then joined Legolas, taking another of those sweet kisses before beginning to prepare him.

They faced each other in silence that was only broken by Legolas’ fruitless struggles to free his hands. The youth was so hard and aroused, Elrond was sure that his tender attention to the preparation was more of a torture than a pleasure. But then Legolas began to cry, and he stopped.

“What is wrong?” he asked in concern. Legolas sighed sorrowfully.

“Why do you make me enjoy being with you? How do you always know what to do?” he asked despairingly, still unable to help the flare of desire in his eyes when he pulled at the binding again. Elrond watched him struggle for a moment or two, and then smiled.

“You are enjoying this? I really hadn’t noticed,” he said meaningfully, continuing with the slow preparation, looking deeply into Legolas’ eyes. The youth moaned loudly and tried to hide his face from Elrond, but there was really nowhere to go, and Elrond simply used his other hand to tilt Legolas’ face up to his. “Do you want it?” he asked.

“No,” Legolas moaned, and Elrond laughed before withdrawing his fingers and taking a moment to massage the oil onto himself so that there would be no pain for Legolas.

“I didn’t think so,” he said softly.

When he took Legolas, he was silent, although there was still a small smile on his lips. But Legolas made enough sound for the two of them, moaning loudly when he was breached, and Elrond finally laughed again. He was a little breathless himself now, because Legolas just felt too good – and it was so sweet to feel his trembling, and to see the helplessness in his eyes.

For a moment Elrond wondered at Legolas’ reaction. He would have thought that Glorfindel had long since introduced him to those kinds of games – yet the knowledge that he was the first to show this to Legolas excited him in a strange way. As much as he had enjoyed it to have the youth around, he had always been aware that, no matter how his current situation was, Legolas really belonged to Glorfindel. There was no visible sign, no brand, nor even Glorfindel’s knots in his hair, yet there was always the knowledge that every place on the youth’s body had first been touched by his seneschal.

This play, at least, was all his, and as much as he realised that the youth belonged with the one who owned his heart, he still could not help but feel a sense of elation at the thought that this would always mark Legolas as his . Even if Glorfindel would do this to Legolas later on, Legolas would always know that it was with Elrond that he had first experienced it – and maybe even that he had first realised that he enjoyed it to be made so helpless for one whom he trusted.

Elrond moaned himself now when Legolas again tested his bonds. Every time the youth struggled so, he got more excited. Elrond could see it in the way his body arched in helpless desire, could hear it in the way his breath hitched, and, most importantly, could feel it in the way the satiny passage constricted around him, mercilessly massaging him until it became a true struggle not to take advantage of the youth’s helplessness to ravish him without consideration.

Instead, despite the effort it cost him, he slowed down, deliberately teasing Legolas with gentle thrusts that made the youth cry out in frustration. He moved against Elrond demandingly, and the Lord leaned in close to whisper to him.

“Be careful, pen neth, or tonight I might restrain you completely.” He waited, and wasn’t surprised when Legolas stopped his movements and lay still, allowing the slow pace to continue. Despite his sudden stillness, Elrond could still feel the muscle contracting around him rhythmically, and he laughed softly. “But I think you would enjoy that too, wouldn’t you?” He aimed a thrust deliberately to get a moan from Legolas, and rejoiced at his success.

“Please, my Lord,” Legolas moaned, his eyes closed and his face red with the effort it took to stay still. Elrond obliged, and began to take him faster, reaching down between them to play with the youth’s shaft. He kissed Legolas as he came, muffling his cry of release, only to break the kiss and cry out himself as Legolas’ orgasm took him over the edge too.

When he could think again, he pressed kisses to Legolas’ throat and neck, relishing the whimpering that this produced as Legolas once more began to struggle against the confinement. But then, he took pity, and pulled Legolas onto his side so that he could reach around and release the Prince’s hands.

They rested together, and this was what Elrond had missed the night before. Much more even than the sex, it was this relaxed, happy closeness he wanted more than anything else. Legolas lay in his arms trustingly, at last having accepted the pleasure of submitting to him, it seemed. He ran his fingers through Legolas’ hair, admiring the silver and gold in it, so unlike his own.

Eventually though, they both had to leave Elrond’s rooms – Legolas to go and feed Gîl, while Elrond had to catch up on the work he had missed while Glorfindel was away. They parted with a quiet kiss just inside Elrond’s door.

“I will see you at dinner,” he promised, noticing that Legolas swallowed when he realised he would once more be eating in the Hall. “Don’t worry,” Elrond said, catching his look, “you will not be insulted again. I will not allow it. And I think, neither will Glorfindel.” Legolas only sighed softly and nodded. And then Elrond left him, already planning what they would do that night.