Pen-Estel

Chapter Fifteen

Turning restlessly, Glorfindel let his eyes focus and glowered unhappily at the door. How far away was the morning? Hours yet. He turned again, exhausted but unable to sleep. In the daytime he claimed Legolas as often as he could. He knew it was tiring for Legolas, and he knew it wasn’t really fair on Gîl for him to spend so much time with the nurse… but it was far worse for him, he was sure.

It was as though he had to make Legolas know whom he belonged to. When he thought about what the youth might be doing right now… Glorfindel buried his fist in the pillow near his head with a growl. Better not let his thoughts go in that direction. Better for everyone. He attributed his sleeplessness to those thoughts he couldn’t have, but in a secret part of his mind, he knew why he couldn’t sleep. He missed Legolas. It was as simple as that. He knew that when the morning came, bringing Legolas to his bed early, that he would slip into reverie with the youth in his arms, happy at last that everything was as it should be, the warmth of the youth’s body a reassurance to him.

Usually, he spent the long night looking forward to the time when his nights wouldn’t be spent alone. But that was difficult now. Difficult because he just didn’t know… He let his mind drift back to the previous morning. He didn’t need to torture himself – that wasn’t how he worked. But he did need to think about it, because he had to know if he could still go through with everything if the worst came to pass. Did it make a difference?

Despite the demands he put upon himself, it didn’t affect him in any detrimental way, and so just the nearness of Legolas was as usual enough to make him hard. As usual that morning he had pulled Legolas close to him, testing with his fingers to make sure the youth had followed his orders and prepared his body. Although he often threatened Legolas with taking him regardless if he forgot the oil, and although he had done so in the past, Glorfindel did actually prefer Legolas to be ready for him. It was much more comfortable for him too.

Satisfied, he had begun to slide against the youth while he still slept, wondering what Legolas would do if he should take him right now, and let him awake to the feeling of being claimed. Glorfindel smiled. He would do nothing… although he would moan in that indescribably sweet way. But he stayed still for a moment or two, perhaps teasing himself with the thought of what pleasure was to be found only a few inches away. But then, to his surprise, Legolas had rolled away from him with a sigh.

He had wanted to laugh, because he realised the youth was still asleep. But never had he known Legolas to have such a reaction, even in his most unguarded moments Legolas’ body was tuned to his. Smirking, he reflected there was only one change that might have brought that kind of reaction out in him – and that was awakening with someone else. There was jealousy attached to the thought, but strangely it didn’t matter so much. Obviously, Legolas wasn’t as welcoming with Elrond as he was with him. It actually made him feel better, and he grinned before moving slightly, so that he could curl a large hand around Legolas waist and pull him back into that perfect place.

All of a sudden, Glorfindel realised that he felt happy, utterly content, and that simply because he held Legolas in his arms again.

It was still something that astonished him. After millennia of taking and discarding lovers, this youth who had been nothing more than a frightened child in the beginning, had found a way into his heart - had him completely addicted, to tell the truth, so that he could no longer find sleep when he lay all alone in his bed!

Glorfindel shook his head, faintly amused at himself, and what seemed to be almost a jest of the Valar.

And then, Legolas had spoken in his dreams... and his words changed everything.

At first, Glorfindel felt guilty when he realised that Legolas was living through that night again. Listening to the helpless pain in the youth's voice, he felt anger at the situation which had forced him to spend all his rage on Legolas, and to let the Lord of Imladris away unscathed.

But then, the youth continued to speak, lost in a dream, or maybe talking to the ghosts his own guilt had conjured, and then Glorfindel was unable to act at all, feeling as if he were the one lost in a dream.

He could hear himself gasp when he understood what Legolas was saying. Pregnant! Legolas was pregnant again! There would be another child! There were tears in his eyes and a bright smile on his lips, and just when he wanted to wake the youth with a thousand kisses, he realised that something was wrong.

They had known – both Elrond and Legolas had known, already back on that night when he had crept into Elrond’s rooms. And there could really be only one reason why they had kept it secret from him...

Glorfindel pulled his hand away from Legolas’ belly as if he had been burned, barely able to suppress a sob of betrayal and rage.

He had been able to accept that his Legolas had been touched by another - was still being touched by another every night. Sometimes he thought that this was by far the most difficult thing that had ever been asked of him, and it had taken far more strength than to meet the Balrog's fiery whip with his sword.

Yes, it had been hard, but his need for Legolas was far worse than the pain it brought him to imagine Legolas in Elrond's arms, and so he endured.

Only now, now Glorfindel feared that he had finally reached a point where it hurt so badly that he could no longer endure. And yet, what else was there to do for him?

Legolas was pregnant... and the child, the brother or sister for Gîl he had already looked forward to since the birth of his first child, the child was not his.

Glorfindel looked at Legolas, tightly grasping the covers so that he would not do something he would only regret later.

Maybe it was that they just did not know... But even that thought did not cheer him. He remembered for a moment how Legolas had first arrived in Imladris. He had put his hand on the youth's belly then, had searched his fëa, and found only his own touch there. Now...

Glorfindel looked away from Legolas, closing his eyes against the tears that suddenly threatened to fall. No, he did not even want to try - it would only hurt more, to find that this alluring purity was gone, to find the taint of Elrond's touch there on the youth's fëa.

He had left the bed to sit alone in the grey light of early morning. He couldn’t call it contemplation, not really. For the most part his mind had been completely blank until Legolas had awoken and distracted him. His smile then had felt forced, and for the first time since they had met, he didn’t know how to act around the youth. Just the tentative question Legolas asked had thrown him. It had been a disconcerting feeling. But then there had been a kiss, and for as long as they were close, nothing could come between them. Not even a child.

When he carried Legolas to the bed, the youth had offered himself, and Glorfindel almost considered leaving him alone. But he hadn’t, and it was bliss, because when he claimed the youth, he could almost forget… it almost didn’t matter anymore. It had felt so good, and at one point Glorfindel nearly said something rash that might have changed everything around again. Instead, he said: “I need you,” and that was less of the truth, but still the truth.

Now, he wondered about the situation. He should be planning to take Legolas away from Elrond, but he found himself loath to consider it. Could he watch while Legolas grew heavy and pregnant if the child wasn’t his? Could he? Glorfindel didn’t know, and so instead he played for time rather than revenge.

For as long as he could, they would continue with the status quo. He felt greedy for more time with Legolas before the decision had to be made. Before he had to reveal that he knew… even if he kept Legolas with him afterwards, nothing would ever be the same.

But for now it was the same, when they were close… like this. He smiled when he felt Legolas crawling into bed with him, squandering his warmth, but Glorfindel didn’t mind. Instead, he pulled the blankets over them both, making a contented sound when Legolas fit against him just perfectly like that.

“Good morning, roch neth,” he whispered, and felt Legolas press against him in answer. He grinned when he realised that Legolas was already reacting to his nearness… but the youth would have to wait. For now Glorfindel was tired.

“Sleep for a while, Legolas,” he ordered, and although the youth sighed, he was already warming up in sleep. Glorfindel held him close and allowed his own eyes to glaze over at last, because Legolas was in his arms again.

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

The day passed like every other day, even though Legolas still felt that something was not quite right with Glorfindel. But whenever Legolas tried to timidly enquire if something was wrong, Glorfindel would silence him with a smile, or a kiss... or more.

The time passed quickly that way, and when the sun was slowly nearing the horizon, Legolas felt more exhausted than ever, but also reassured. Glorfindel needed him... Glorfindel wanted him! Glorfindel would never let him go!

Yet despite his secret hope that now, finally, Glorfindel would keep him in his bed, when the time for dinner came close Glorfindel sent him away again. Once again Legolas dared to beg his Lord to be allowed to stay, yet Glorfindel only shook his head and told Legolas to obey.

Downtrodden, Legolas finally did as he was told and left his Lord’s rooms, his heart heavy. He tried to believe that Glorfindel had his reason for doing this, that it did not mean that his Lord no longer cared about him – but it was so hard to leave Glorfindel to go to another’s bed.

Even if he liked spending his time with Elrond, even if he enjoyed the games they played – the truth was that he loved Glorfindel, and always would.

Legolas sighed, his hand straying to his belly as he walked through the corridors that were mostly empty at this time. And then there was that - the child. He could not keep it a secret forever – but he also did not know what else to do. Glorfindel would hate him if he knew, and he just could not lose Glorfindel again!

He moaned softly as he remembered what it had been like to have Glorfindel hate him, rounding a corner without really seeing where he was going - and then he gasped again when he ran right into another elf.

He was already trembling when he slowly raised his gaze, because he knew the dark robe and the even darker hair.

Erestor.

“F-forgive me, my Lord,” Legolas stuttered, his heart racing when he realised that they were all alone – that this time, neither Elrond nor Glorfindel was around. And this was Erestor, not just some servant...

But instead of saying anything, Erestor only favoured him with a disgusted look before deliberately pushing past him. Legolas stood for a second or two, feeling that terrible look even now. What had he done to make Erestor hate him so? Then he heard the advisor speak to him.

“Legolas,” he said, as if his name was something slimy and unwholesome. “Are you on your way to the Lord Elrond?” Swallowing, he turned to face the other elf, eyes cast down to avoid seeing the hate in his eyes again.

“Yes, my Lord.” Erestor didn’t say anything, and Legolas began to feel hot and embarrassed. “M-my Lord Glorfindel, he…sent…” He didn’t mean to stop, but he couldn’t finish the sentence, and he winced a little at how it would sound. And that was because it was how it sounded. He was being passed back and forth. He raised his eyes timidly.

“Yes,” Erestor said with a sneer. “Well…” He graced Legolas with the contempt for a moment longer. “Lord Elrond does not want to be disturbed now.” He waited expectantly then, as if for Legolas to turn around and walk back the way he had come. Legolas felt torn in two. Where should he go now? He couldn’t go back to Glorfindel – that would be sure to earn him a punishment!

“But, I –” he said softly, his mind filled with panic at inviting Glorfindel’s displeasure. “That is, my Lord, I,” he began again, more respectfully, but before he could say he had nowhere else to go, Erestor spoke again.

“My Lord?” Erestor laughed cruelly. “Are you seeking to serve me too, now, little whore Prince?” Legolas shook his head in denial when he saw Erestor take a step closer to him, and he almost screamed.

“No! No, my Lord!” But Erestor stopped, and simply looked his trembling form up and down once.

“I am not a Lord,” Erestor said quietly. “Not even to such as you,” he added, as though Legolas was the lowest form of life in existence. “I am an advisor and a teacher. You may refer to me as either of those. Do you understand?” Legolas didn’t like either one, but he tried. Advisor he couldn’t say – it just seemed like such a personal title. And the other…

“Yes, teacher,” he said quietly. But Erestor didn’t laugh, and finally Legolas looked up again.

“What have I taught you today, cunneth?” Legolas dropped his eyes immediately, and wondered what answer he should give. Nothing came to mind, and he jumped when Erestor cleared his throat loudly.

“That I…” He thought of Erestor’s words to him, and tears rose to his eyes. “Please don’t make me say it!” he whimpered, expecting Erestor to laugh for certain now. But he didn’t. Instead he sighed in irritation.

“Come, now, Legolas! It is not so difficult!” Erestor sounded so quietly angry that Legolas trembled. “What piece of information have I given you?” he asked expectantly, and suddenly Legolas knew what he wanted.

“Lord Elrond does not want to be disturbed,” he whispered, looking up. At last Erestor smiled at him, but it was so much worse than the scorn, Legolas wished the earlier emotion were back.

“That’s right.” He waited again, and this time Legolas moved away, back down the corridor. Erestor followed him in silence for a while, and eventually Legolas went out into the gardens, hoping at last to lose the advisor there. When he looked behind him after a few minutes, Erestor was gone, and Legolas sat down on a nearby bench in sudden, grateful relief.

Now that Erestor was gone, the shock slowly made way for a feeling of deepest humiliation, and with it, the tears returned as well.

For a long time, Legolas sat on the bench, quietly sobbing with his face hidden in his hands. It was one thing to know that he was behaving like a whore – but to be told so to his face, that was quite another thing.

Legolas shook when he remembered the disgust on Erestor’s face, almost choking on his sobs. Little whore prince... was that what they all thought? Was that what everybody called him when they talked about him? Was that why they giggled?

He did not feel like a whore, not while he was with them... But maybe that was because they did not want him to think so, because they enjoyed him too much? He had never really thought about it before, because it had always been so obvious to him that he had not had a choice... But the way he gave himself to both, crawling from one bed into another before the sun had risen – what did that make him, if not a whore?

Again Legolas was shaken by sobs. But it was not true – there was no choice! There had never been a choice for him! For a long time, he stayed on the bench, weeping hopelessly because he felt so ashamed, and because he knew that he could not change who he was - what he was.

Only when he in the end heard voices slowly coming closer to his lonely bench did he finally get up. He quickly tried to wipe the tears from his face with his sleeve, and then took another path back to the house to escape whomever had chosen this abandoned part of the gardens for a stroll.

He still had no idea where to go. He could not return to Glorfindel, not without disobeying his Lord, and despite how ashamed he felt at his behaviour, he nevertheless could not do that. And more than being afraid of another punishment, it was the fear of disappointing Glorfindel that kept him from returning.

But if he did not return to Glorfindel’s rooms, that left him with nowhere to go. He did not have any friends in Imladris, no acquaintances – there was nowhere to go where people would not talk behind his back, and giggle at him, their Lord’s little whore prince.

Legolas sobbed again, then fled to the only other place in Imladris where he felt safe – Elrond’s rooms. He did not care if Elrond was busy, he would be careful so that Elrond would not even realise that he was there. He would be quiet and just creep into his bedroom to hide there, and maybe sleep – the Lord need never know how upset he was!

Again Legolas wiped ineffectively at his face, then listened at the door to Elrond’s rooms, stealing inside as quietly as a mouse when he could hear no voices.

He found no one in Elrond’s room, and thought that it was possible the Lord was away as yet. Perhaps he had business in the library? If he was busy, he was more than likely there. Thinking that, Legolas relaxed a little, and headed for the bedroom where he determined he would wait for Elrond to return.

As he entered however, he saw his mistake. Elrond was once more sat before the desk that faced the bed. As though he were aware of Legolas, Elrond stopped writing, and held the quill still in his fingers.

“Have you come to disturb me again, Legolas?” he asked, and Legolas completely missed the warmth in his tone.

“I am sorry, my Lord!” he exclaimed in dread, knowing full well that Erestor would no doubt tell Elrond he had encountered him in the corridor… and warned him. “I did not mean to,” he said, and then began to back away, eyes to the floor. He only looked up again when he was pulled into the Lord’s embrace.

“You didn’t?” Elrond asked in mock disappointment. “But I rather like it when you disturb me on purpose,” he teased, then pouting a little so that Legolas couldn’t help but laugh. Now they were close, he could feel his hunger for Elrond’s touch burning in him already. It was a hunger that had as much to do with the pregnancy as with the Lord himself. After all, Glorfindel took enough from him in the day to satisfy three lovers. He smiled then, relaxing at last in happiness.

“You do?” he asked coyly, moving his head to the side a little so that he could dart in and lick at Elrond’s neck. The Lord moaned, and Legolas grinned, but then he was pushed back and Elrond looked at him.

“You would make me forget, if I let you,” Elrond said with a knowing smile. “But I won’t allow it. Something is wrong – I could hear it in your first words. What has happened?” Legolas felt his eyes fill with tears again at the concern in Elrond’s voice, and once more the thought from earlier came to him. These are all lies! Because I am their whore – and all of Imladris knows it. He tried to look away, but Elrond wouldn’t allow him to escape, and only lifted his chin with a hand. “Tell me,” he commanded softly.

The tone of his voice, even though the words were softly spoken, reminded Legolas so much of the questioning he had endured at Elrond’s hands previously that he moaned. Once more his desire was out of his control, and he knew Elrond noted it, because he looked surprised. But Legolas tried to ignore it for now and answer as best he could.

“I was on my way here, my Lord, to you, when I saw… well, when I…” Legolas shook his head helplessly. “Erestor.” He stopped there, hoping that would be enough, but when Elrond only raised an eyebrow, Legolas sighed, and continued quickly, trembling at the things he remembered, but he didn’t speak of them. “He said that you did not want to be disturbed, and he made sure I went away. So I went to the garden for a while, and then I had nowhere else to go. I am sorry.”

“And what else?” Elrond demanded knowingly.

“Nothing else, my Lord!“ Legolas insisted, and then closed his eyes, mortified when despite his words he could once again feel the tears roll down his face.

“And so you are crying because of nothing, Legolas?” Elrond asked, again taking hold of his chin so Legolas could not look away.

Helplessly, the youth shook his head, his eyes pleading, but Elrond did not relent.

“He made you cry, Legolas. Tell me, or I will go and ask him myself.”

“No!” Legolas gasped, “please, don’t!” Anything but that... To have Erestor know that his words had made Legolas cry like a small child, that would be even worse than to tell Elrond about what Erestor had said!

“I... It is just that I am afraid of him,” Legolas said helplessly. “And you know that he does not like me much, my Lord. He... I was just intimidated.”

“And?” Elrond asked, but while his voice was gentle, Legolas nevertheless got the feeling that Elrond knew that he was holding something back.

Legolas was trembling once more, and when Elrond gave him a look of such concern, Legolas could hold back no longer. He began to sob again, hiding his face against the Lord’s shoulder, and thought in despair of what Erestor had said.

“It is not what he said, my Lord,” Legolas wept, “just that he made me realise what I am. It’s what they all think, it’s why they laugh when they see me... That I am a whore Prince, who will warm every bed he is sent to.”

Legolas could not stop the sobs that were shaking his body. He felt a faint sense of shame for showing Elrond how weak he really was, but mostly, he just felt despair for who he had become.

“And I know that he is right,” Legolas continued softly, feeling tired all of a sudden. “The proof for it is right here...” He pressed a hand against his belly, wondering for a moment what Erestor would have said if he had known the truth about that. “And I have no one to blame but myself...”

The Lord of Imladris shook his head, and Legolas remembered how he had promised not to talk of the child in such a way. But that was so long ago, and now he couldn’t help how he felt.

“That is what Erestor thinks,” Elrond confirmed, watching Legolas closely, not allowing him to hide even now. He felt fresh tears well up in his eyes, and quite suddenly he didn’t want Elrond to see them. Twisting violently, he attempted to free himself from the Lord’s embrace, but it was hopeless.

“Stop it!” Legolas burst out, unable to help crying while Elrond still watched him.

“What do you think?” Elrond asked quietly, echoing that long ago conversation again in such a thoughtful way that Legolas stilled in his attempts to escape. He was about to answer that he thought the same about himself, but Elrond carried on speaking.

“Do you feel like a whore in my company?” The tears stopped, because the question felt like a trap. Elrond asked it expecting Legolas to say no. As though he would be insulted if Legolas were to answer any other way. But he was not afraid of telling Elrond the truth the way he might be with Glorfindel, and he sighed helplessly.

“Yes,” he said, somewhat rebelliously, but then realised the time he had felt like that was long past. “At first,” he added in puzzlement. It was the first time he had thought about things from such a perspective. He had felt that way at first, when the threat of being forced to leave Imladris and Gîl had made him obedient and submissive. But now…? How long had it been since he truly felt he had a choice? When had it changed?

“And now?” Elrond asked, reflecting his own inner dialogue. Legolas looked at him, and he knew the Lord’s games, and yet they were just that – games. The rest of the time Elrond made him feel… wanted. Cared for. Cherished. Valued. The rest of the time, Elrond made him feel equal. They might not be in love, but they were lovers all the same. They were partners. There was nothing Elrond asked of him that he wasn’t happy to give.

“I am sorry, my Lord,” he said softly, in regret, but Elrond only laughed a little.

“I don’t want you to apologise, Legolas,” he said warmly. “I want you to understand something. Bearing in mind the fact that you do not feel like a whore in my company… is Erestor right?” Legolas was taken aback at the question. He hadn’t considered it quite this way before. And yet… there was only one answer.

“No,” Legolas said faintly, in a kind of shock. “He is wrong.”

“Even when you are with Glorfindel… does he make you feel like a whore? As though you were something only to be used?” Legolas thought with a secret smile that he did indeed feel that way with his Lord, but then he reflected on it more seriously. He remembered when Glorfindel had been so angry, and the way he had been treated then. He shivered, but then realised he had his answer there too. He imagined Glorfindel’s love for Gîl, his joy when the three of them spent time together…

“No, he doesn’t,” Legolas said with a small sigh of love and longing.

Elrond smiled and said nothing more, and Legolas closed his eyes in relief, leaning weakly against Elrond. Erestor was wrong... it was as simple as that.

“Why does Erestor think that of me?” he finally sighed. “Does he not know that I care for you, my Lord? Or is it maybe that he cannot believe that you can care for me?”

“Both, I fear.” Elrond gently stroked Legolas’ hair, and once again Legolas felt strangely calmed by the affectionate motion, as safe and content as a child. He smiled against Elrond’s shoulder, but still he sighed.

“But even if I know that I am not – that I am no whore, it still will not change his mind,” he said sadly. “And it still hurts, to be treated so... It is not that I want them all to be my friends. But even at home, where I was not liked either, I never was insulted to my face. I do not even think that I would want them all to like me. I – I would not know what to do,” Legolas admitted painfully. “But to be despised by every single person who lives in this realm, with the exception of you, my Lord, and Glorfindel...”

Again the tears came, and Legolas did not try to fight them this time.

“I am just so afraid that they will hate Gîl,” he admitted into Elrond’s shoulder, trembling even though Elrond had tightened his arms around his waist. “He does not deserve that... he deserves to be loved! And... and my other child... it deserves to be loved as well. I could not bear it to see them treated like me – I would always know that it was my fault, because I was not strong enough! And if they grow old enough to learn the truth about their birth, and about myself – what will I do then? Will they not dislike me as well?”

“You are so afraid, Legolas,” Elrond said softly, and gently forced Legolas chin up once more to look into the youth’s tear-filled eyes. “There are so many things that could happen – but you can only imagine the worst possible outcome. I can understand that, Legolas, for that seems to be the way it has always been for you... but you are no longer alone. Your children are not alone. Glorfindel and I will help you to bring them up, and I am certain that they will be beautiful, strong children who will love you. And you love them, Legolas – which is what will be most important for them. Would it not have been so for you?”

Legolas trembled harder when he thought of his father. “Yes...” he wept, thinking of how he would have gladly born the scorn of all of Mirkwood, if only his adar would have loved him.

But soon it was time to leave for dinner. Although he pleaded with the Lord to let him escape that particular humiliation this time, Elrond would have none of it, and Legolas followed the Lord of Imladris towards the great hall in a sense of despair and dread, knowing that Erestor would be there.

Before they entered, Elrond turned to him again. “Remember, Legolas. Your view is more important than anyone else’s is. Do not be afraid of them.” He smiled then. “I think you will be pleasantly surprised,” he said mysteriously. Legolas doubted it very much, but he sighed and nodded before following Elrond into the hall, trying to keep in mind the conclusion he had come to earlier – that whatever the rights and wrongs of his position as the lover of Glorfindel and Elrond, it was not the way Imladris saw it.