Half the Distance

Title: Half the Distance
Series: Innocence Stripped Away
Chapter: Nineteen : A Way I Could Not Know
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Contact: soultornasunder@gmail.com
Website: http://www.hithanaur.net/
Update List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nairn_orchyd/
Fandom: LOTR
Archive: OEAM
Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or any characters, lands, or items from the Tolkien world. They belong to their respective copyright holders.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: BDSM, twincest
Beta: Alex, Ashek Thordin
Cast: Erestor/Glorfindel, Glorfindel/Thranduil, Thranduil/OMC, Erestor/OMC, Legolas/Elladan/Elrohir
Summary: Following the events of "Something Special, Something Sacred", Erestor finds himself in a dark pit of despair and fear as his bond with Glorfindel is threatened, stretched, and remade. Legolas returns to the valley where his heart was once broken to find a second chance and a new way of seeing those around him. Thranduil has lusted after Glorfindel's submission for years, and now that Erestor has opened the door for him, he intends to capture the elusive warrior as his own submissive.

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Imladris, Spring, Third Age 2086

Elrohir couldn't let Legolas simply run off. As soon as he and Elladan had finished their lovemaking, he'd cleaned himself, dressed, and gone looking for the Mirkwood prince.

What Elrohir hadn't counted on was how difficult it was to *find* the Mirkwood prince.

Legolas had not been in his rooms, nor anywhere in the Last Homely House, and so Elrohir had gone out searching for him in the woods behind the main estate. It had taken some time, but he eventually found Legolas in one of the hunting blinds. He stood below the blind, staring up, internally debating whether or not he would be welcomed, and then shrugged the question off.

Welcomed or not, Elrohir was not leaving Legolas to his own devices.

He climbed up the tree and into the blind, settling himself down beside Legolas. Elrohir did not speak. He simply sat with his legs over the edge, like Legolas, hands folded in his lap, and stared out at the treetops.

The sun set, and Elrohir marvelled at the soft twilight just before night engulfed the valley. When the last bit of light slipped from the realm, Elrohir broke the silence.

"Are you all right?" he murmured.

Legolas did not answer immediately. When he did, his words were filled with troubled darkness. "No. I am really not."

"Do you wish to speak of it?" Elrohir was nothing if not an attentive listener. He was invaluable to his father in the Council's room.

The muscle in Legolas' jaw twitched. "I do not know how you do it."

"If you were Erestor's lover, Legolas, I am certain he taught you *that*," Elrohir said with a brief chuckle.

Legolas' eyes, like midnight in the dark, narrowed slightly. "You know that is not what I am referring to. I do not understand how you can allow yourself to be abused."

"It is hardly abuse, Legolas," Elrohir said gently. "It brings me pleasure. It brings Elladan pleasure. If we enjoy ourselves, and I consent, it cannot be called abuse. Abuse assumes that one party is not consenting, and that... that is something I do not abide by. Elladan would never have struck you if you had not consented."

A slow nod from the prince. "Consent. You consent now, but did you consent the first time it was ever done to you?"

Elrohir chuckled, leaning back on his hands and gazing up at the stars. "I most certainly did. Erestor was our teacher in that."

"Erestor?" His head whipped around. "When did that begin?"

"Calm yourself, Legolas," Elrohir replied. "Erestor would not have been unfaithful to you. We began learning those arts perhaps fifty years after you left Imladris the last time. Father insisted we know ourselves, and what we wanted sexually, without the inclusion of that sort of play. Only when we had established our relationship did Father speak to Erestor, and then Erestor speak with us."

Legolas was again quiet.

Elrohir gave him time to digest that and form his next question.

"Erestor is persuasive. You were young."

"You assume we were naive. We were not. Legolas, Erestor has ever valued choice and consent. For weeks, we did nothing more than speak. He spoke of the tenants, the rules, the expectations. We listened. We learned. We *negotiated*. Only then did he begin the teaching," Elrohir explained.

Legolas scoffed. "You speak of it as if it were yet another subject one is to learn following history and writing."

"For us, it was." Elrohir sighed. "Erestor was patient and calm, and he never did anything we did not implicitly ask for."

"And so he taught you."

Elrohir smiled. "He did. And what he did not, our Father provided. They love us, and neither Father nor Erestor would want to hurt us or see us hurt each other. They were careful." He thought they had been far more careful with them than they ever had been with each other. Perhaps if his father had done for Erestor and Glorfindel what had been done for he and Elladan...

Legolas watched Elrohir, scrutinizing the Half-Elf. "Do you feel no humiliation? Does it not bother you to be so degraded?"

"You confuse this with too much thinking and too many assumptions," Elrohir said patiently. "I have been more humiliated by tripping on my robes at a public function than I ever have been strapped to a cross and paddled in a playroom. When you are humiliated, it tends to be something done on purpose with malicious intent, Legolas. It strips one of self-respect, of pride, of dignity. Elladan has never done that to me. I have my self-respect. I am proud of who I am, what I do. And my dignity is intact, as I have never been accused of losing a fraction of my nobility."

"How can you not feel ashamed at needing this depravity to find your release?" The disdain was thick in Legolas' voice, and it had begun to grate on Elrohir. "Even you must admit that it is not a natural thing to require the sting of the lash to become aroused."

Elrohir's lips tightened. "I do not *require* it to become aroused. It is merely an occasional addition to the lovemaking I engage in quite regularly. It is by no means necessary."

"Is it not?" Legolas snapped. "Prove it."

It was childish, and just as Elrohir was going to point that out, he caught the look in Legolas' eyes. Legolas *knew* what he was asking was an immature dare, and Elrohir was certain the prince would not have issued it if he thought there was any other way to word what he was feeling.

What he needed from this conversation.

Elrohir mulled on it for a moment, and he realised he understood why Legolas was behaving this way. It was something new. It was a *lesson*, and lessons -- whether they liked them or not -- tended to put one into a child-like mentality. You either grasped the teachings, or you didn't, and Legolas was not grasping what Elrohir was teaching.

He could remember quite clearly how angry Elladan would become when he did not comprehend what a tutor was explaining. It tended to lead to quite a lot of pouting and door slamming.

"All right," Elrohir said, smiling darkly. If Legolas wanted to challenge him so, he would accept.

Without another word, Elrohir pulled Legolas towards him, covering the younger Elf's lips with his own. The kiss was slow as Elrohir explored Legolas' mouth, tongue thrust confidently into the moist cavern. When he heard Legolas moan softly, his lips curved into a small smile.

He let his hands fall to Legolas' leggings, and as he continued to masterfully work their kiss, he unlaced the fabric. By the time his lips ached from kissing, Elrohir had pulled Legolas' semi-erect sex into his hand, stroking it as he slid his tongue over the prince's. Another moan was fed into the kiss, and Elrohir allowed their lips to part.

Elrohir took in the blond Elf's flushed face, half-closed eyes, and rapid breathing, feeling desire rise in his own body. Legolas was beautiful, Elrohir had to admit that, and he licked his lips as he ducked down. There was no teasing, no seduction. Elrohir took Legolas into his mouth rapidly, sucking upon the shaft with skill and precision. What his mouth could not surround, his hand stroked. The scent, Legolas' moans, and the Elf's hands in his hair made his own blood pool in his groin. By the time he felt Legolas swell between his lips, he was fully erect in his trousers. The rush of seed, and the musical cry of completion from Legolas, made the arousal he felt all the more acute, and he swallowed every drop the prince offered.

He lifted his head, eyes dark and lips slick, and stared at Legolas. After a moment, when Legolas had come down from the high of climax, Elrohir took his hand and pressed it to the front of his trousers.

"I do not need a lash or restraints to become aroused," he purred, leaning in to lap at Legolas' parted lips.

Legolas' voice was rough when he spoke. "What do you need?"

Elrohir couldn't help the chuckle. "Just this, Legolas," he murmured, resting his own hand atop Legolas'. "Would you like me to prove that as well?"

He wasn't certain Legolas was going to accept the invitation, as confusion raged in the blond's eyes. After a hesitant moment, though, Legolas' fingers tugged at the sash of Elrohir's trousers, and then eased the fabric away from his body. Legolas held Elrohir's gaze as he wrapped his hand around the column of flesh and began to slowly pump up and down. Elrohir sighed in encouragement and closed the little space between them so he could again kiss Legolas.

The hand on his sex, calloused from the bow and strong from the sword, quickly drove Elrohir upward. His breath quickened, and the kisses became more demanding with less finesse. A quiet cry spilled from Elrohir's lips as he trembled with release, his hands clutching at Legolas while his vision cleared.

Elrohir sat back, and he took Legolas' hand from his groin. Eyes on Legolas', he brought the sticky digits up and cleaned them thoroughly, pleased when Legolas moaned softly.

"You see?" Elrohir said, his voice quiet and soothing. "I do not need the trappings of pain to become aroused or to find my end. All I need is a willing partner."

Legolas took his hand from Elrohir and laced up his leggings. "Do you ever do this sort of thing with Elladan?"

"Bring one another pleasure in a hunting blind?" he asked, looking around. "No, we have not done that, but it might be an interesting tryst to try sometime." He received a glare from the prince for that, and Elrohir laughed as he retied his sash. "Yes. After you left, we made love on the bed as any two Elves would do. Nothing more, nothing less."

"I do not understand," Legolas muttered.

"I know." Elrohir smiled. "Think of it like wine." At the puzzled expression he received, Elrohir continued. "What occurs in a playroom is more like an aged blend, something to enjoy occasionally so best to appreciate its flavour. What we do every day in our bed is more like your table wines -- intoxicating, pleasing, and enjoyable. You would not wish to drink the aged wine each night, as it would soon become tedious and unpalatable. It would be nothing special. That is what the playroom and its joys are: special."

Legolas turned his gaze back to the forest, lost in thought for long moments. When he spoke again, there was a quality of dawning understanding in his tone. "You do not do that all the time?"

"Valar forbid, no!" Elrohir shook his head adamantly. "That sort of exchange of power, of handing your entire life over to your Ingor, is exhausting. Some people can manage to do it, as a choice for their life. They can devote their whole lives to maintaining that exchange of control. Many in your father's realm do. However, it takes a certain type of personality to submit that thoroughly. In fact, it takes quite a lot for the Ingor to dominate so wholly. It is a balancing act neither my brother nor I wish to strike. We are equals, and that is how we like it."

A look of wonder came over Legolas' face. "I see."

Elrohir smiled, butting Legolas' shoulder with his own. "I know."

TBC...