Pen-Estel

Nikkiling: Thank you!! :) I hope you will enjoy the end of that chase just as much as the chase itself - Glorfindel at least does. ;)
There is no Erestor in this chapter, but I promise that we will see him again.

alli G: Here is another chapter, enjoy. :)

ElenaDiVita: I don't think that it's really selfish - Legolas just makes it far too rewarding for them to tease him. *g* And here you have some more of it... ;)


Chapter Twenty-One

When the Lord’s lips closed around his nipple and he suckled, the feeling was so intense that Legolas’ eyes fluttered closed and he half fainted, only held up by the solid wall of stone at his back.

He moaned his Lord’s name, fighting again against the tunic that still held his arms behind his back, because he wanted to touch Glorfindel – but he could not get free, and the feeling of being completely helpless only made him harden even more.

“My Lord,” he whimpered weakly, but then Glorfindel drew back and shook his head.

For a moment, Legolas did not know what to do, but then Glorfindel smiled at him, that deadly, sharp hunter’s smile, and Legolas felt like a mortally wounded deer again, a deer that had been hit by an arrow and now could do nothing but wait for the hunter to approach.

“Faron,” he breathed, and that word was surrender and suggestion at once.

“You have caught me.” He closed his eyes again, wanting to sink against Glorfindel, to fall to the ground with his Lord – but it was not he who would decide what to do. He was nothing but a wild deer that could no longer escape its hunter.

He struggled again, only lightly, because he did not really want to escape – but it felt so good to feel restrained. He moaned once more, hungrily this time, and opened his eyes again to give Glorfindel a look of fearful arousal while he continued to struggle.

“What will you do with me?” he asked, breathing fast, again pushing his chest forward, raising his head, offering himself... And although he was still begging to be released, they both knew that he wanted to be mastered. That more than anything else, he desired to fall to his hunter’s sword...

“Faron,” he moaned again, and now he no longer even struggled. His heart was beating so fast in his chest, and he still trembled, but except for that he stood completely motionless. He had raised his face to Glorfindel’s, and he could feel his Lord’s breath on his lips, yet for one long moment, they only looked at each other. Legolas’ eyes were soft like moonlight, and at that moment they both knew his surrender – that he would do everything Glorfindel asked of him now.

The Lord smiled slowly, and Legolas was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t even think what it might mean.

“I have caught you, aras neth. And so you are at my mercy, wouldn’t you agree?” Legolas moaned and moved forward slightly, beginning to feel frustration because their lips were almost touching, and he so wanted the Lord to kiss him again.

“Yes, my Lord,” he said, trembling, as Glorfindel pulled away from him a little, without letting him go.

“The mercy of a hunter is a quick death, but I don’t want to show you mercy.” Glorfindel reached down with one hand, and cupped the heaviness between his legs, so that all Legolas could give in answer was another moan of desire. His hips bucked forward, and Glorfindel caught hold of his shaft through the material of his leggings in a sure, firm grip.

“No mercy for you,” Glorfindel promised.

“No,” Legolas agreed breathlessly as he thrust in and out of Glorfindel’s hand, unable to stop, the fabulous nature of their game catching up to him too, so that he only wanted to fall to his knees and worship the Lord. “No mercy,” he pleaded.

“You are too beautiful for that,” Glorfindel said, as though he were only thinking aloud. But when Legolas opened his eyes, he saw the same intense desire in Glorfindel as he felt himself. “Instead I want to take you back with me, so that I can keep you to myself.” Legolas moaned helplessly, certain that he would come, but then Glorfindel let him go, and he cried out in desperation, leaning and rubbing against the Lord’s hard, muscled body in his need for the touch of that hand to continue.

“Would you like that? You could be my pet,” Glorfindel suggested wickedly. “Wild, dangerous and frightened. I would tame you to my hand aras neth, and you would learn to love me, wouldn’t you?” Legolas was almost out of his mind with lust, and all he wanted was to beg Glorfindel to take him, but the Lord’s words struck a deeper chord. Something that reminded him of truth.

As a frightened youth he had come to Imladris, half-dead, bearing the fruit of Glorfindel’s loins. And yet he hadn’t died. It had been terrible at first, but he had come to welcome Glorfindel’s touch, learned to love him. Legolas’ quick mind realised all of this without really thinking about it, but the result was that he finally sank to his knees before the Lord who had indeed already tamed him.

He looked up, and he saw Glorfindel catch his breath when understanding flashed between them. “Yes,” Legolas answered with a slight smile despite his lust. “I will learn if you will teach me, faron.”

He grasped Glorfindel’s hand with both of his and rubbed his cheek against it, like an animal seeking the attention of its master. “Tame your aras neth, my Lord, so that it will no longer flee from you,” he breathed, pressing kisses to Glorfindel’s hand while he looked with desire at the growing bulge that was now straining against the lacing of Glorfindel’s leggings.

Kneeling before Glorfindel never failed to affect him... It was certainly one of the most submissive positions, and yet by now it was something that filled him with a strange, warm pride that glowed in his belly like embers. Kneeling for Glorfindel was only right, because beauty like this should be worshipped – and to be the one to whom this opportunity was granted, was that not something to be proud of?

He looked up, his eyes soft and dark with desire, and licked his lips until they were red and moist. “Teach me, faron,” he whispered. “Tame me, and teach me to eat out of your hand... Teach me to love my captivity, for I have fallen to a faron who is deserving of my surrender and adoration.”

He closed his eyes again and sighed when Glorfindel’s hand came down to cup his cheek, cradling his face so tenderly that he still felt like a half-wild animal that was being tamed to its master’s hand.

“Aras neth,” Glorfindel whispered in a raw voice, and at that sound Legolas opened his eyes again, looking up at the elf who was faron and master, lover and friend to him. It was almost visible between them, this connection which could only be love, Legolas thought dazedly, and when he looked at Glorfindel, he realised that the Lord was not only in his heart, but also in his soul.

Glorfindel was all that was bright and golden to him, all that was laughter and joy, and more than that... He was also passion and need and desire, utter surrender – and the sweet, innocent love of Gîl.

Glorfindel was more than his love. Glorfindel was his life.

Understanding passed between them, and although Glorfindel did not say anything - would not say anything – they both knew, and Legolas’ eyes filled with tears of joy and gratitude – and grief.

But this was no time for tears. He had fallen to his faron, and now he must pay the price.

“No mercy,” Legolas begged again breathlessly, closing his eyes with a moan as he let go of Glorfindel’s hand to rub his cheek against his Lord’s straining length.

He heard Glorfindel groan above him, and a second later, the Lord was undoing the ties of his breeches, removing the last barrier between them. There wasn’t time to look up before Legolas had his first taste of the Lord’s arousal, and it drove him wild, like the animal they pretended he was, and he became it.

Oh! It felt so good to have that hot, velvety skin against his cheek. On his lips. He licked at the slit of Glorfindel’s cock instinctively, wanting to taste as well as feel, moaning when the salt of the Lord’s arousal spread over his tongue.

It wasn’t sweet, but he hungered for it as he had never hungered for food. Even when he had been starving he had never known such lust. Glorfindel was like a drug, and he only wanted more and more.

As soft as the hot skin was, Glorfindel’s length was hard and unyielding against his cheek as he leaned in to nuzzle the wiry hair at the base of his member. He breathed in the heat, giving it back twofold, and paused to tease some of the golden curls around his tongue before moving down further.

The Lord moved to stand with his legs slightly apart so that Legolas could reach what he desired, and he mouthed the fleshy balls with his entire mouth at first, as if to test the weight and size of them. Above him, Glorfindel moaned appreciatively, and Legolas responding by sucking lightly on the globes, moving his tongue over them gently before he was pulled back by his hair.

It hurt, and reflexive tears filled his eyes as he looked up, Glorfindel blurring in his vision as he felt the hardness being pushed into his mouth. He opened for it willingly, caught between the pleasure of the sliding motion against his lips and tongue, and the tight hold on his hair that made him want to cry out.

He could feel everything, and he sucked lightly on the head of the Lord’s cock before he had to take more. His tongue caressed Glorfindel, noting every vein that stood out from the skin, and he moaned around it.

There was no difference, he thought dazedly. No difference at all between penetration this way or the other. It was different, but the same. So thoroughly intimate and personal. He closed his eyes as Glorfindel forced himself inside Legolas’ mouth even further, filling him slowly until his jaw ached with the effort of accommodating the Lord. But it was a good ache.

He relaxed his throat in expectation, but Glorfindel stopped before he would have passed that point. He drew back, and then thrust inside Legolas’ mouth quickly, beginning a fast pace that made Legolas moan in pleasure again. The hardness passed back and forth over his lips and tongue, rubbing against them until his lips tingled and his tongue buzzed.

He reached out, grasping at Glorfindel’s hips to steady himself, only noticing now that the cruel hold on his hair was gone and that the Lord’s hands cradled his head gently but firmly as he thrust in and out.

But it soon became unsatisfying. He wasn’t swallowing Glorfindel, so he didn’t reach far enough down at the end of the movement to touch Glorfindel’s skin – and he wanted to. It was too shallow, and he moaned in impatience to feel it all, unable to plead while Glorfindel took him this way.

His hands moved behind Glorfindel, and he attempted to pull the Lord closer to him, to show what he wanted. At that there was another eloquent moan from above him, and Glorfindel slowed down. Legolas took a deep breath in preparation while Glorfindel drew back, and then pushed inside, this time not stopping until Legolas once more had his face buried in the Lord’s golden curls.

Legolas whimpered gratefully around Glorfindel’s hard length, and the vibration brought him another moan from his Lord’s lips. It was almost like a fever, this absolute need to taste Glorfindel, to feel him, to serve him until his lips were sore... He wanted that, all of it, he needed it!

He felt his face pressing into the golden curls, and he tried to moan, but Glorfindel was huge and solid in his throat and it was impossible. The heat and scent of sex surrounded him, and he tried to breathe then, but again he was stopped. He swallowed convulsively, massaging the Lord’s length, making Glorfindel moan above him as the Lord slowly retreated, giving him the space he needed to catch his breath until only the head of Glorfindel’s erection was in his mouth. He sucked on it lovingly for a moment, teasing the slit with his tongue for another taste of his Lord’s addictive, salty essence, and then hungrily moved back down to allow Glorfindel deep into his throat once more when the Lord pulled on his hair again.

Again he swallowed, forcing another groan from Glorfindel that way, and the next time his Lord drew back he followed him, unwilling to lose the taste of him, the pleasure of feeling his curls tickle his lips and nose. Glorfindel let him continue for a moment, but then once more used his hair to pull Legolas back.

Legolas groaned and again felt tears well up at the sharp pain, but all the same he was still not willing to let go of his Lord. And after all there were different ways of getting what he wanted...

When once more only the head of Glorfindel’s cock was resting on his tongue, he opened his eyes deliberately and looked up at Glorfindel with the tears still clinging to his lashes. He moaned loudly and then began to suck again; being intentionally messy this time so that the mixed fluid of his saliva and the first few drops of Glorfindel’s essence were smeared all over his lips and cheeks.

He almost smiled when he noticed that now Glorfindel had closed his eyes, but instead he lovingly rubbed his tongue over the sensitive glans until Glorfindel groaned again. His Lord’s hands were no longer pulling on his hair, and so he moved back down to swallow greedily around the hard length, hungering to taste the saltiness of release on his tongue.

He had done this so often that he knew all about his Lord’s reactions, but when Glorfindel hardened even more in his throat it almost drove him mad with desire. He was filled with need, begging for this with every greedy swallow around the swollen shaft, but then, just when he could feel the first tremors that betrayed his Lord’s climax, Glorfindel suddenly pulled back.

Legolas whined, feeling bereft, but then he felt the first spurt of his Lord’s release hit his chest, and he moaned in both surprise and lust at how Glorfindel’s seed felt scalding hot where it ran down his sweaty skin. He tried to move closer to Glorfindel, hoping to catch a last taste with his tongue, but instead another spurt hit his cheek and the side of his mouth. Legolas trembled, needing so much now – but still he kept his eyes open, looking up at Glorfindel as he slowly licked over his lips to catch all he could of his Lord’s seed.

Then he felt his hair being pulled back once more, and he leaned back on his knees in a show of unconscious flexibility, feeling that shocking heat again as more of Glorfindel’s seed spurted onto his chest. Some landed on one of his nipples, and he gasped and shivered when the heat immediately cooled. He was so hard himself he thought he must come just from the idea of being marked in such a way.

Eventually the Lord let him go, stepping back as he retied the front of his breeches, and Legolas fell back to sit on his heels, wiping at his cheek with his fingers where Glorfindel’s essence had fallen on him, bringing those same fingers to his mouth.

He dropped his other hand to his leggings, his hips thrusting forward slightly at just the brush of his hand against his cock, and he looked up at Glorfindel then, ready to beg for his release.

Glorfindel looked down on him, the sun behind him so that to Legolas, he was standing in shadow – his eyes so dark that Legolas shivered.

“Do it,” Glorfindel ordered, and there was no doubt what he meant. Legolas took hold of his erection through his clothes, looking up in mute appeal to remove them, but Glorfindel shook his head. He shuddered as he brought his hand up, feeling the roughened material against his skin cause a burst of unexpected sensation and pleasure.

Wanting to make it last, Legolas slowed, and concentrated on his other hand. He examined himself in the bright sunshine, the white of Glorfindel’s seed pearlescent against his faintly pink skin, and he trailed his fingers through it, rubbing it into his skin until his fingers brushed against his nipple.

Even his own touch there was almost unbearable, as if with the pleasure came pain, and he whimpered as he massaged Glorfindel’s issue into the hardened nub of flesh, closing his eyes. He brought that finger up to his mouth too, and sighed when he tasted the salt of Glorfindel, mixed with the sweetness of his own milk. The milk he had teased from himself at his own touch.

Was it enough? He sucked on the finger and opened his eyes again, searching for Glorfindel. The Lord watched him in rapt attention, shuddering in desire when he caught Legolas gazing at him, even though he was already spent. It made Legolas feel powerful, and his cock answered with a pulse of pleasure that almost undid him.

“Ohh, Glorfindel!” he cried out, but before he could stroke his hardness again and put an end to it, the Lord strode forward and took hold of his upper arms to pull him to his feet, breaking his grip.

“No!” Legolas begged desperately, struggling, driven beyond simple release now. “Please!” Just a little more! But Glorfindel ignored his protest and pushed him against the wall of the cliff. The Lord pressed against him, and Legolas could feel that Glorfindel was soft where he was hard. He didn’t understand the comparison, but that sensation made him breathe more quickly, and he stared up at Glorfindel in something that wasn’t quite surrender.

As if to teach him a lesson, Glorfindel reached down between them, smiling mischievously as he pressed the heel of his hand to Legolas’ erection. He rubbed the palm of his hand against Legolas slowly, firmly, up and down, in small circles, until Legolas was frantic and sobbing.

“Wait,” Glorfindel warned, timing his command on an upstroke that made Legolas cry out in need.

“I can’t! Oh, I can’t!” And he really couldn’t. He came suddenly, his head falling forward to rest against Glorfindel’s shoulder as his body shuddered and pulsed with his orgasm, held up against the rock only by the weight of Glorfindel pressed against him.

“Can’t you obey me, aras neth?” Glorfindel breathed into his ear, but Legolas was too tired to even tremble now.

“Forgive me, faron,” he simply sighed and then turned his head to weakly nuzzle Glorfindel’s throat. He was too tired for more, but right now, he was happy, and he hoped Glorfindel knew how grateful he was.

“It does not matter, aras neth,” Glorfindel carried on. “Taming a wild animal takes time. But you will learn to obey me in the end.”

“Yes, faron,” Legolas sighed again, smiling with love and adoration. “I will learn to obey; I will learn to crave your touch. I will learn to love you.”

He could not see Glorfindel’s face, but he knew that his Lord was smiling. Legolas was exhausted, his limbs still trembling from the long chase, sweat was slowly drying on his body and his leggings were a mess – but he felt a happiness at this moment that went deep down right into his soul. Despite their dark past, despite Elrond and the child, despite the games they played – there was love between them, a bright, firm bond of light connecting them which nobody but themselves could ever hope to sever.

“I love you,” Legolas said softly when his Lord picked him up as if he were no more than a small child – no, as if he would now indeed take his captured aras neth home to tame it and make it his pet. He closed his eyes, shivering a little at the thought although he was truly too tired now to be aroused. But oh, how he wished that they would continue to play this game...

Glorfindel froze for a moment and did not answer, but Legolas only smiled and happily rested his head on Glorfindel’s shoulder, sighing because he had never been as content as he was now.

Glorfindel might not be able to say it, and they both knew why that was – but he was saying it for the both of them, and that was enough. Warmth blossomed in Legolas’ heart, and at last he allowed himself to hope once more.

He was set on his feet next to the horse while Glorfindel retrieved his torn tunic from the ground where it had fallen, forgotten in the heat of the moment. Legolas couldn’t remember when his hands had been set free – but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was them, and what they were together.

What were they?

Legolas pondered that question as Glorfindel draped the ruined garment over his shoulders. It was such an odd, chivalrous gesture after everything else that he giggled a little. But the look the Lord had soon put a stop to that. He stopped laughing immediately, and schooled his face into an approximation of utter seriousness.

For a moment then, Glorfindel looked uncertain, but he spoke without a trace of conscience, and at first his words made Legolas’ hope wither.

“I will take you back with me,” he promised distantly, “and once you are in my rooms you will be able to take a bath and then spend some time with Gîl.” Legolas nodded numbly, wishing that reality did not have to intrude. He felt the Lord putting distance between them again, and all he wanted was to fall into Glorfindel’s arms.

Sniffling, he imagined how it would be to return and leave Gîl in the nurse’s care for a little while longer while they bathed together, and stole perhaps an hour of sleep in their bed.

“Yes, my Lord,” he said softly, turning away to mount the horse and get the ride back over with as quickly as possible. But then Glorfindel embraced him and pulled Legolas back against his chest.

“You miss me,” he observed in a whisper.

“Yes.” Don’t hurt me, he thought despairingly, closing his eyes as Glorfindel’s lips hovered over the back of his neck.

“I know how freedom feels, and I know you long for my touch,” he paused, the puff of his breath so intimate against his skin that Legolas felt as though he were melting into the Lord’s embrace. “Don’t you?” he prompted softly.

“Yes.”

“Because you do not want freedom, do you? You long for my touch because I can master you, guide you, and when you displease me… punish you.” Legolas swallowed nervously. The sun went behind a cloud and he shivered at the sudden coolness in his half-undressed state. He couldn’t speak, only nod, and Glorfindel breathed deliberately against his neck, making him moan and feel the first stirrings of desire again.

“You have earned a punishment by disobeying me today, roch neth,” Glorfindel informed him softly, and Legolas shivered. He hadn’t heard Glorfindel say it for so long, it seemed, and he truly didn’t know how much he had missed it. It was their first, best game, and he wanted to be a part of it so much that it hurt.

“Yes, my Lord. I am sorry.”

“Are you not my pet, aras neth… roch neth?” Legolas froze, hearing something else, something he had almost forgotten. Are you not my whore? And for the first time he understood something important, something that in his terrible fear and hurt he had missed the first time around. That too was a kind of game, because however Glorfindel called him, whatever name he chose, the Lord wanted him. Had he ever doubted Glorfindel’s possessiveness? The answer was no.

“I am,” he replied, echoing the reply he had given then, but this time truly knowing what it meant. “I am yours,” he furnished softly, and he smiled when Glorfindel kissed his neck.

Before long they were on their way back to Imladris, and although Legolas knew that they would return to being friends again once they arrived, he knew it couldn’t go on. Sooner or later, Glorfindel would want him back, and he would return gladly, however much he feared hurting Elrond.

But for the moment, he still enjoyed being Glorfindel’s – being held in his arms like this on the back of the young stallion made him feel strangely protected and loved, and that was a feeling he had experienced far too rarely during the last few weeks. So he just smiled a little to himself when Glorfindel’s arms tightened around him once they were back at the Last Homely House, and ignored the curious looks they were given.

People thought that he was now with Elrond, and being seen sharing a horse with Glorfindel would lead to new rumours – but he found he did not care at all about that. Elrond was their Lord, and Glorfindel the most important person in Imladris after him. Nobody would dare to judge them.

Still, Legolas could not help but sigh softly in regret when Glorfindel let go of him to jump from the young horse’s back. He missed his Lord – always, every moment of every day. Even in Elrond’s bed, although he would never admit that to Glorfindel. There was such a thing as being too truthful – and he did not want to hurt Glorfindel more than he had already.

But then Legolas forced himself to smile as he slipped from the horse’s back as well, turning towards his Lord who sent the stallion off to his stable with a pat.

“My Lord,” Legolas said, feeling inexplicably nervous now that they were back to pretending to be friends. “I need to change...”

Glorfindel looked at him and then smiled slowly, his eyes lingering on Legolas’ chest – and the red, swollen nipples now visible to everybody because of the ripped tunic.

“Yes, you should,” he agreed, but then looked around to make certain that they were alone before he stepped up to Legolas again, running his hand slowly up his chest until he could gently squeeze a nipple.

“And bathe, Legolas. You smell of my seed – and your milk.” He squeezed harder until Legolas moaned, and then raised his hand to his mouth to slowly, appreciatively, clean it of the sweet liquid that was dripping down his fingers.

“Yes, my Lord,” Legolas said, his voice trembling while he tried to pull his ruined tunic closed.

Glorfindel smirked and leaned forward, one of his hands again finding their way beneath the fabric to teasingly rub over the other nipple until he could feel wetness there as well. “Never forget, roch neth, even though Gîl no longer requires this from you – I do. And I will keep taking this from you. Because you are mine,” he purred darkly into Legolas’ ear.

Legolas trembled against him, moaning again both at his touch and at his words. “Yes, my Lord,” he agreed weakly, his eyes dark with arousal once more at this threat, before Glorfindel finally turned from him with another amused smile to follow his horse to its stable.


To be continued…