Pen-Estel

When Elrond looked up again, he grinned as if he fully intended to take Legolas for his own. Legolas’ heart stuttered in his chest at the possibility – Elrond could certainly do it if he wanted to. But then the moment passed, and he had to wonder if he had imagined it when Elrond rose quickly from the bed, covering him up with a sheet, and put on a robe so that he could ring for a servant.

Left alone with his thoughts, he once more turned his mind to Glorfindel. How was he going to face his lord after this? Already he felt dirty and shamed. He closed his eyes wearily, and was surprised into wakefulness by Elrond some time later.

“Come with me, cunneth,” he said softly. “I have something for you.” Legolas sighed and relented to Elrond’s insistent pulling on his hand. With a quick glance over at Gîlríon to make sure he didn’t want for anything (his child was still asleep), he allowed Elrond to guide him to the bathroom.

Steam rose from the hot water, and Legolas wanted it more than anything. To be clean again! But it wasn’t to be his alone. Behind him, Elrond rid himself of the robe and embraced Legolas from behind. Remembering how things had gone earlier, Legolas gently took hold the hands that encircled his waist and leaned back against the Lord of Imladris submissively, closing his eyes.

“Glorfindel has indeed taught you well,” Elrond observed, and Legolas made a small, choking sound, but he said nothing. “We shall see how well you serve me now,” he said, pushing Legolas forward so that he had no choice but to step into the warm water with Elrond behind him.

Legolas gasped a little when Elrond suddenly pulled him down, but he calmed when he found himself sitting on Elrond’s lap. Deliberately, he forced his body to go pliant once again; making himself remember how terrible it had felt when he had displeased Elrond. He would not make that mistake again... It was almost more than he could bear to betray his lord, but that cold cruelty – he did not think he could survive that again.

“How do you want me to serve you?” he asked softly, trembling in dread of the answer he expected. But instead of the obvious – the way in which Glorfindel had always demanded to be served – Elrond simply smiled at him, and nodded towards a selection of fragrant soaps, and vials of golden oils, that stood along the rim of the stone that marked the edge of the bath.

With a breath of relief, Legolas took the soap that the Lord put into his hands. It smelled of fir trees, and other herbs Legolas could not identify; yet he recognised the scent... It was the subtle scent of wood and herbs that always seemed to cling to Elrond’s hair.

Finally understanding what it was that Elrond demanded of him, he gently pushed away Elrond’s hands with a trembling smile, and then got up to kneel behind the Lord’s back. Carefully, he began to pour water over Elrond’s head to wet the black tresses, before he rubbed the soap between his hands to produce a lather to clean it with.

He dedicated himself to the task happily, enjoying the small pleasure of washing the Lord’s hair – it wasn’t really a demanding activity though, and Legolas soon found his mind drifting as he carefully cleaned and rinsed the dark strands.

He remembered that first bath he had shared with Glorfindel when he arrived at Imladris, homeless and frightened, and shivered. Noticing this, Elrond turned around and looked at him curiously. Legolas smiled a little and shook his head slightly, but Elrond pulled him fully into the warm water, mistaking his shiver for cold.

It was comforting to be enveloped by the warmth of the softened water, and he relaxed in Elrond’s arms deliberately, still not wanting to displease Elrond again. At the Lord’s gentle guidance, he used the soap on Elrond’s body gently, until the point where Elrond took hold of his wrist and guided his hand insistently below the water level to touch his semi-erect sex.

Again, remembering the sudden coldness of Elrond’s attitude earlier, Legolas took a deep breath, and forced his hand to curl around Elrond’s shaft. He couldn’t look away from the Lord’s eyes, and he moved his hand slowly up and down, wishing himself somewhere else – wishing more than anything that he was with Glorfindel, even though that would mean his Lord would take him.

Eventually, Elrond stopped him, and he closed his eyes in relief. But it wasn’t over yet. He felt Elrond touching him too, and he opened his eyes again as one of his fingers settled over his opening, still slick with Elrond’s seed from earlier.

“You must be clean,” Elrond said slowly. “You know what I mean, don’t you?” Soundlessly, Legolas nodded, and then gasped when he felt that finger penetrate him suddenly. He grabbed onto Elrond’s arm, wanting to plead with him to be careful. This wasn’t the same touch as earlier – it wasn’t a preparation with oil – it was purposeful and probing, and Legolas began to sob in helpless shame at the feel of it. It cheapened him, made him realise once more exactly what had happened between them – and he had never felt more like an object.

Yet despite that, he did not even try to plead with Elrond to stop, because deep down, he knew that he deserved this, after what had happened between them. He had not been able to stop Elrond, he had just given in – and while he had always been able to ignore the insults as long as Glorfindel had been the only one to ever touch him, that was no longer true now. Now, he truly was a whore, who would even go so far as to pretend affection, just so that he would not be hurt again.

Legolas sobbed softly when Elrond pushed a second finger into him, spreading him open until the already sore muscle began to burn again. The motion of the fingers deep within him, not even trying to cause pleasure for either himself or Elrond, but simply to clean him of the Lord’s seed so that Glorfindel would not know... It was too much. He simply could not bear it anymore.

“Enough!“ he cried softly, then adding a helpless, fearful “Please,” still hoping that somehow, he could move Elrond to show mercy. But the fingers did not stop moving inside him, and despite his protest, Legolas did not dare to move. He continued to hold still for Elrond, trembling at the feeling of penetration. It was as if every motion, every touch was designed to make him feel Elrond’s effortless mastery over him, his domination over his body and mind – there was nothing Elrond could not do to him if he wanted to, and they both knew it.

“Please!“ he finally whispered again, after what seemed to him like ages of the tormenting touch. He wrapped his arms around Elrond’s neck, pressed his cheek against his neck, even started to breathe little kisses onto his throat, in a helpless show of submission to prove that he had learned his lesson well.

Elrond laughed throatily in amusement, and Legolas knew then that he hadn’t mistaken the Lord’s intentions. He whimpered piteously when Elrond praised him for his behaviour in a way that made Legolas blush in shame. But then, as if in reward for his responses, the touch became less intrusive and more pleasurable for him. Legolas moaned helplessly while Elrond played with his body, still pressing the light kisses to Elrond’s throat so that the Lord wouldn’t hurt him again. It seemed nothing would save him from this torture.

With his other hand, Elrond forced Legolas’ face up to his for a long, leisurely kiss, and Legolas submitted to that too, only wanting to please Elrond so that he would be allowed to leave his rooms.

After a few more moments, Elrond’s fingers left him, and Legolas kissed Elrond back then in gratitude. “Thank you,” he breathed softly, and Elrond laughed again.

“Truly, I must have been mad to leave you alone to Glorfindel for so long,” he stated, and Legolas trembled in his arms, hearing in Elrond’s voice the intention to be with him again, and again…

“Please, don’t speak like this,” he begged, wanting to know that Elrond would not continue to take advantage of him.

“And why not? Do you not enjoy the hospitality of my home? It is not Glorfindel you should thank for being given permission to stay here. The decision was mine as much as his.” Legolas swallowed at the return of coldness in Elrond’s voice.

“I am sorry,” he said immediately, wishing he knew how to play these games Glorfindel and Elrond used on him. But it was just so easy for Elrond to make him feel fear, the same fear he had felt when he imagined Glorfindel would turn him away. If he didn’t please Elrond too now, would that mean he could be refused permission to stay in Imladris? Legolas supposed it was. And he wasn’t even carrying Gîl any longer. Perhaps they would keep Gîl and be rid of him. It was such a frightening thought that Legolas panicked, and he clung to Elrond as if for protection from such a thing. “I’m sorry,” he said again, more desperately this time.

Elrond simply laughed off his apology and began to clean the rest of him quickly and efficiently. His hair took the longest, and when it was done, Elrond stood up, pulling Legolas with him. He guided him out of the bath, and waited while Legolas dried them both off. When he was finished he remained kneeling at Elrond’s feet, the thought of being separated from Gîlríon still making him tremble in fear.

“Calm yourself, pen neth,” Elrond said now, more kindly. “As long as you please me, I will not let you leave here.” As long as you please me… Legolas didn’t hear past the words, hearing more of Glorfindel in them than he wanted to admit. Elrond pulled him to his feet and fingered his hair thoughtfully.

“Do you even realise what you are?” he asked, and Legolas looked down miserably. Elrond laughed again. “No, not that,” he chastised, and led Legolas to sit down on a chair in the bedroom out of sight of the mirror. He took a comb from the dresser and began to take the tangles from Legolas’ hair gently.

It took a while for Legolas to stop trembling, but the soothing feeling of having his hair brushed eventually relaxed him so much that he sighed and closed his eyes, abandoning himself completely to Elrond’s touch.

The Lord chuckled with obvious amusement, but there was no other reaction – he simply continued to brush through the hair, until it was just slightly damp and fell down Legolas’ back like a silky veil. Then, Elrond gathered a few strands in his hands and began braiding them.

At that, Legolas’ eyes opened, but as he could not see what was being done to him, he soon closed them again. He feared for a moment that Elrond was doing exactly what Glorfindel had once done to show his power over him, marking him as his with the knots of possession in his hair. Yet certainly Elrond would not do that to him, not when he was already aware of having to keep this from Glorfindel?

But eventually, even that fear left Legolas. Having another play with his hair... it was a sensual experience, yet also strangely innocent. And it had been so long since he had felt innocent that he could not help but completely give himself over to the feeling, just sighing every now and then in appreciation of the fingers moving through his hair.

“Does Glorfindel ever braid your hair?” Elrond asked curiously, and Legolas opened his eyes at the uncomfortable reminder of his Lord. He had all but forgotten his situation, and the fact that he needed to leave this room as soon as possible...

“Or does he prefer to simply keep you in his bed naked, and with open hair? You look lovely like that, little prince, but it is a shame – hair such as this should be enjoyed, it is made to be played with, to give pleasure.”

Elrond studied him for a moment, as if wondering whether to show Legolas the results, then he simply sighed and finger-combed the intricate braids from his hair. Warrior’s braids such as these would only confuse the Prince, and despite his earlier enjoyment of Legolas’ distress – that wasn’t his intention.

Before he could say anything, however, Gîlríon began to cry. Elrond moved out of Legolas’ way, watching as he effortlessly calmed the child. When Gîl was quiet again, he allowed Legolas to get dressed in silence, watching him all the while, noticing how his attention distracted the Prince.

When he was dressed, Legolas turned back to the settee, to pick up Gîl again, but from the corner of his eye he saw Elrond moving towards him and so he only closed his eyes and waited in defeat for the Lord to embrace him.

Elrond placed his hands on Legolas’ shoulders, and slowly moved them down to clasp Legolas’ hands. It was intimate, but not threatening, and once more Legolas was reminded of how gentle Elrond could be. He moved his head back, to rest it against Elrond’s shoulder, and sighed. He was expecting something forceful now, but the Lord simply kissed his hair and Legolas opened his eyes. What game was this now? But there was no game. He turned around and Elrond was gazing at him seriously.

“It is time for you to return to Glorfindel,” he said, and Legolas saw a loneliness in Elrond then that he hadn’t even suspected existed. When he turned he had broken the gentle hold Elrond had on his hands, but now he took the Lord’s hands again, and of his own free will, gave Elrond a gentle kiss. It was as though he couldn’t help himself. He felt powerful all of a sudden, something he never felt with Glorfindel.

Then, scared of the new feeling, he backed away to pick up Gîlríon from the settee and went to the door. He unlocked it at last, and fled back to Glorfindel, wondering how he was going to face his Lord now, after all that had happened.