Pen-Estel

Thanks for reviewing, alli G - I hope you will enjoy this chapter as well when you get back . :)


Chapter Twenty-Two

If Legolas could be happy without Glorfindel, then he surely was. The Lord still chased him every now and again, but each time they drew close to each other, Glorfindel’s affection would cool again – and Legolas knew why. As the time passed he grew, and explaining why to their inquisitive son had been the least of his worries. Now it was impossible to hide, and it became more and more difficult to maintain his new confidence when he knew people were looking… and wondering – but somehow he did it.

He was still able to practice archery at the moment, which pleased him no end. Legolas had come to love the challenge, and he had indeed grown strong in his upper body. Strong enough to challenge Elrond one day, perhaps? Thinking that, Legolas smiled as he worked, and kept the smile even when Erestor glared at him.

Now his time in the library was undisturbed, for which he was more grateful than Erestor could know. He didn’t relish the thought of being observed with Glorfindel, and so his lessons had more than one use.

At first he had feared to ask, but then Erestor had more or less offered, hadn’t he? And so Legolas had asked the advisor to help him understand the books written in Westron. It was no small task. Instead of being able to leap into the translation, Erestor had forced him to start from the very beginning, with the smallest of words and phrases. It was a long, laborious process, and Legolas suspected the advisor was enjoying making him work for his knowledge, but it was coming.

Whenever he thought he wasn’t being observed, he would go to where he knew those books were and leaf through them. He didn’t understand enough yet to make sense of them, but he soon would. The thought filled him with hope. Truly, he loved Gîl, and he wanted this child too now, more than anything, but he looked forward to there being no next time. The thought of what he would have to endure on the road ahead was enough to give him nightmares, and several times he had awoken in the dark with Glorfindel’s name on his lips while Elrond held him close, soothing him.

It wouldn’t be too long. A few more months. He wondered if his new strength would make the birth easier… or more difficult. The stares he received now were different, and he knew why. The combination of his muscular, well-toned upper body combined with the swell of his belly was somewhat odd. He was still slender, but he had lost a little of the androgynous quality he had before. Now, he was very clearly male, and no amount of waves in his hair would make him look like a girl, he thought with a secret smile.

Erestor gifted him with another annoyed glance, and with an inward sigh Legolas once more focused on the text he was supposed to translate. He was truly getting better at it, although it was a slow process, but soon he would no longer be able to do archery, and he guessed that he would be glad about the distraction his translation work would offer then.

The last time, during those last few weeks, there had been no distractions at all for him... He had been so weak and weary that he had been forced to rest in bed most of the time, with Glorfindel trying to force some more food into him.

Glorfindel.... Legolas sighed. Glorfindel had been his distraction then. A distraction he would not have this time. As much as he knew that Glorfindel loved him, as much as he hoped that one day they would be together again the way they were supposed to be – he knew that it was impossible, at least for now. Until the child was born – and maybe longer, but he tried not to think about that – he would no longer know Glorfindel’s touch.

It was a painful development, especially after the frenzied couplings of their hunting game, and as much as Legolas knew that the reason was this pregnancy for which he could only blame himself – he still wanted Glorfindel more than anything else. Needed him. It was selfish, really, especially considering how kind and caring Elrond was – but he wanted Glorfindel’s touch, he wanted his kisses, he wanted to do more than just talk with him as if they were nothing but friends. He wanted to feel Glorfindel’s arms wrapped around his belly as they napped together – he even wanted his Lord to tease him about his swelling chest.

But Glorfindel could not touch him anymore, not like that. Legolas understood, but still, it did not help at all with his need...

He sighed again, and now instead of giving him another annoyed look, Erestor got up to shut the book Legolas had not looked at in minutes. “It is obvious you will get no more work done today – stop distracting others and come back when you’ve got more patience,” he said brusquely and return to his desk without another glance.

Legolas smiled a little. He might once have taken Erestor’s emotionless demeanour for dislike, or even cruelty – but he knew better now. That was simply Erestor’s way of telling him to go and do something about whatever his current problem was. They would never be friends, he did not delude himself that far, but he thought that one day, they might at least come to understand each other.

“I will, thank you,” he said politely and got up to return the books to their place, pretending to ignore the covert looks of two of the apprentices who seemingly still had not grown used to his pregnancy.

Once he had left the library, he wondered where to go. His thoughts led him in one direction – but how would he be satisfied now? Elrond would be busy at this time, so it was pointless making his way to their rooms. Who knew how long he would have to wait? Legolas sighed in indecision, and then smiled.

Well, there was one thing he had now he hadn’t known before. Someone that could take his mind off the craving his pregnancy created in him. Someone he had seen little of so far today. With a spring in his step he made his way to Glorfindel’s rooms – and to Gîl.

The door was already ajar when he reached it, and Legolas heard the Lord’s voice alongside Gîl’s excited chattering. He smiled and waited before announcing himself by walking in and disturbing them. He peeked through the door without moving it, and grinned when he saw Glorfindel throwing a dark cloak over himself dramatically.

“I know there is a little Elf in here somewhere. Are you hiding, little Elf?” A muffled giggle came from behind the bed, and Legolas looked over there while Glorfindel stalked around the room as if he hadn’t heard it.

“Are you…?” Glorfindel stopped, and then opened the door to the nursery. “In here!” Gîl giggled again, and Glorfindel looked towards the bed craftily. He crept over there softly, and Legolas laughed silently at their game.

“Are you…?” He whipped away the bedclothes to reveal an empty bed. “Hiding under here!” Glorfindel made a disappointed sound, and then suddenly jumped on the bed to look over the other side. Gîl screamed joyously and stood up, holding a small, wooden toy sword Glorfindel had made for him in his hand.

“Foul creature! I have sworn to rid the land of your evil!” he announced in his little voice, tossing his head proudly so that his golden curls caught the last of the sunlight coming through the window. Legolas covered his mouth, and wondered how Glorfindel could keep up the act without dissolving into laughter.

“I have sworn to eat every little Elf I find,” Glorfindel answered in a theatrical growl. He looked down. “And your boots may be big, but you…” He made as if to jump down from the bed.

“I come from a line of monster-slayers!” Gîl shouted, but then his arm began to tremble as Glorfindel jumped from the bed and walked over to him. He looked around quickly as if making up his mind. “Catch me if you can!” he challenged and dodged past Glorfindel so swiftly it was comical to watch. Legolas finally laughed out loud as he watched the Lord who was not only a truly great warrior, but also a Balrog Slayer, be outdone by a little child.

At the sound of his laughter, Gîl looked towards the door, and when he found Legolas standing there he ran towards him, giggling when Glorfindel followed him with a growl.

“Ada, ada! The monster wants to eat me!” he cried, and Legolas laughed again when he pulled him up into his arms. Gîl was still so small and weighed so little that even now that Legolas grew heavier, it was no exertion at all, but he could see that Glorfindel gave him a concerned look before he continued to approach them, still growling and roaring like a monster.

“It will not!” Legolas exclaimed and tried his best not to laugh so he would not spoil the game. “I am a Prince of Greenwood, and I shall never be defeated by a monster such as this!”

Now Glorfindel slowed in his approach, looking Legolas up and down and smirking. “Such as.... what, oh valiant Prince of the Greenwood?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with amusement, and a darker emotion that made Legolas breathless for a moment.

“An evil monster, obviously,” Legolas began slowly, feeling daring with his giggling child on his arm, and Glorfindel in such a playful mood. “Evil, and hideous... with long, sharp fangs, and see – it is slobbering in its rage!”

Glorfindel gave him a wounded look, and now Legolas could not help a small smile. His Lord’s weakness had always been his vanity...

“You were very brave to fight such a monster, Gîl!” he declared to his son’s delight. “Why, even I am somewhat afraid of it, just look at its gnarled fingers with those long, sharp claws, and that dirty mane of knotted hair! It reeks as if it has not seen a bath in years! What did the guards think, allowing such a hideous monster to prowl the halls of Imladris? I shall have a word with their lazy captain – someone who is so neglectful of his duties should be punished!”

Gîl crowed with delight, while Glorfindel’s expression of wounded pride changed to one of dark promise. Punishment, aras neth? he mouthed silently, and Legolas felt his knees grow weak with desire.

“But, ada,” Gîl then giggled, speaking into Legolas’ ear as if he were telling him a great secret, “that is no monster – that is atto!”

“You are right! That is your atto!” Legolas exclaimed with feigned surprise. “And I thought that this was a great and evil monster – how could I have been so mistaken?”

“How indeed?” Glorfindel asked softly, stepping closer until he could feel the heat of Legolas’ body – and feel how his mere presence was as always enough to make the youth tremble.

Just being here close to him was enough to make Glorfindel want him again. It had already been so long, and although Glorfindel knew in his heart that he didn't want to leave Legolas alone, he couldn't reconcile his feelings with the pregnancy. Still... just one little game couldn't hurt. Not if he really made it a game, he thought connivingly, glancing at Gîl.

Legolas saw the glance Glorfindel gave to their son, and the mock growl that accompanied it, and he tried desperately to rein in the reactions of his body to Glorfindel’s nearness. It wasn’t working, and he felt a flush in his cheeks as he realised it was quite obvious, and Glorfindel must know. He felt like apologising, but just looking at his Lord was enough to make him forget everything except the way they were together.

Glorfindel looked back at him, and Legolas caught his breath in longing. Sometimes it seemed so unfair. The more he learnt about Glorfindel and what had happened between them from the beginning, the further apart they became. The less it hurt, the more heartbreak there was between them, and it seemed senseless even as he understood the reasons for it.

But now he stayed still while Glorfindel drew closer to him, so close he could feel the Lord’s breath on his ear. In his arms Gîl shrieked and struggled as if to get free, and unconsciously, Legolas tightened his grip to keep him from falling. It seemed unreal; to stand here with their child in his arms while Glorfindel’s lips moved over the side of his cheek, drifting down…

His teeth nipped Legolas’ neck and as unreal as it was, he closed his eyes to savour the feeling and angled his head to make it easier. It wasn’t a real bite. It was too playful for that, and yet he moaned all the same.

In response to his moan, Gîl struggled all the more and laughingly pummelled his little fists on Glorfindel’s shoulders. “Stop it!” he demanded shrilly, and Legolas moaned again when Glorfindel dutifully pulled away, finally letting go of the sensitive skin.

He opened his eyes again and looked around him. For a moment it had seemed so inevitable. He felt the Lord’s hand on his arm, as if to lend him strength, or demonstrate ownership, and he was caught again. With his other arm, Glorfindel took Gîl’s slight weight from him, and Legolas let him go, suddenly feeling weak and dizzy when the responsibility of holding his child was gone.

They looked at each other for what felt like forever. “Slobbering,” Glorfindel said, and Legolas automatically put a hand to his mouth. Glorfindel laughed in warm amusement at his reaction, and the spell was broken.

“It seems like the monster has won and the Prince is vanquished,“ Glorfindel then said with another smile, but his eyes were knowing when at his words, heat raced through Legolas’ veins.

“It seems like that is true, my Lord Monster,” Legolas nevertheless made himself answer, “for you hold the prize in your hands, and I only have the wounds you dealt me to show for it.” He tilted his head back a little and touched the spot where Glorfindel had bit him with a fingertip, trembling again at what was, despite the playfulness of their game, still a show of submission.

Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed, but he still held Gîl in his arm who was giggling again at their exchange now.

“You bit ada!” he exclaimed in obvious delight. “You can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Glorfindel asked with another growl. “I am an evil monster, after all, and that is what evil monsters do! And my favourite food is Princes.... Tender, juicy Princes with pale skin and fair hair. I hunt them, and when I have caught them...” He paused dramatically, and Gîl stared at him with wide eyes.

“Then I eat them!”

He growled again, showing his teeth, and Gîl shrieked with delight when Legolas pretended to be overcome with fear.

“No! Don’t eat me, my Lord Monster!” he begged, falling to his knees to beseechingly raise his hands. Glorfindel froze, but instead of the playfulness there was now a sudden, hot desire in his eyes, and even though Legolas had known what he was doing, seeing it affect his Lord so made him want to surrender to him in truth – in their bed.

But there was their child to consider... and the pregnancy. Still, Legolas thought, looking up in pretended fear, although Glorfindel might not want to touch him anymore, it did not mean that he could not bait him a little.

And the truth was that he liked being on his knees for Glorfindel!

“Please, do not eat me... I do not taste good! You will get a bellyache from me!” he begged, and while Gîl continued to giggle, Glorfindel grabbed a handful of his hair, staring down at him with a secret smile.

“Oh no, little Prince – I think you will be delicious!” he purred. “I fear that, if there is nothing more you have to say, I will have you for my dinner today.”

“I do have something to say,” Legolas said softly, wondering just what kind of reaction to expect. Was this a passing fancy? A game that he hadn’t meant to start? Or was it promise in Glorfindel’s eyes? Legolas had to know.

“Say it then, little Prince,” Glorfindel said loftily, waving his hand in acquiescence so that Legolas smirked despite himself.

“It is not dinnertime.” As if in shock, Glorfindel looked at him, and for a moment his eyes darkened in displeasure, but he didn’t speak. Legolas sighed and closed his eyes. So, it was really nothing then.

Attempting to cover up his hurt, he stood and reached out for Gîl, smiling weakly, although he felt like crying. He couldn’t hate the child, but he could hate his pregnancy – and for a moment he did – bitterly.

The game over, the two of them returned to their friendly distance, and Legolas accepted it with a kind of resigned sadness. After a while, Glorfindel left, and he found himself alone with Gîl. His child could ease the ache for physical fulfilment that dogged him, but Gîl just couldn’t ease the ache for Glorfindel. He needed the Lord more than ever now – and it was the one thing he couldn’t have.

Elrond could allay his fears, make him feel wanted and safe. The Lord of Imladris could even satisfy him – when he was there. But he couldn’t give Legolas what he truly needed. He couldn’t be with Elrond, and be truly happy… it simply wasn’t where he belonged.

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He barely breathed, struggling in the binds that held him to the bed while the suckling went on and on, driving him past coherence so that he knew the words that spilled from his lips made no sense whatsoever.

Elrond’s hand was on him, moving slowly up and down his length, but even that was insignificant compared to what Elrond’s lips were currently doing. It was the edge on the pain when you were stimulated past climax. And yet it was sensational, wonderful, and strangely comforting. Legolas whimpered as it carried on, not certain whether he wanted it to stop or continue.

The muscles in his arms bulged as he struggled, archery having given his physique tone and strength, and so when he found that he had freed one of his wrists – that in fact he had torn the binding from the bedpost – he was at a complete loss.

His free hand waved about above his head for a moment or two before he realised what it meant, and then he reached down to twist his hand in Elrond’s hair – to make him stop.

Elrond looked at him, although his face did not show much surprise. For a moment Legolas wondered if Elrond had planned this – had he deliberately bound him in such a way that he could get free if only he struggled hard enough?

But if this was a test, then he had passed it, he thought as he pulled with his other arm until the binding there tore free as well.

For a moment he stared at Elrond, who looked back at him impassively. Legolas remembered how he had looked like that day when he had given him a first taste of what his submission might be like – back when Legolas had not even recognised it for what it was.

But it was different now. Legolas had dreamed of it since, so often, and he wanted to know what it was like – what did it feel like to be in charge for once? To know that Elrond trusted him so much that he would surrender to him?

For he knew that Elrond would do it, if he wanted it enough. There was no fear, no surprise in Elrond’s eyes when he rolled them over. And when he came to rest on top of the Lord, he could feel that he was still hard.

Legolas stopped to breathe for a moment, looking down at Elrond who was in his power now. That was what they saw – that was what they felt when they were with him. He felt strangely protective of Elrond all of a sudden, and at the same time his love for the both of them grew even more.

“So you like to torment me?” he then asked, still feeling breathless from the overload of pleasure Elrond had forced on him. “I wonder, how do you like it when it is done to you?”

He lowered his head, circling a small nipple with his tongue until Elrond began to move beneath him with impatience. Legolas chuckled, remembering how all too often, that had been how he felt – but not this time.

He bit the nipple, tugging on it with his teeth until Elrond finally made a sound, and then he closed his lips around it to suck on it. Elrond was moaning now and Legolas smiled, pleased with himself. Still, he could not really give back what Elrond had done to him – they just were not the same in that regard. Elrond was not as sensitive there as Legolas was, and Legolas had to hold back a sigh as he thought about how Elrond would never know what the most exquisite torment of all felt like.

This wasn’t a need for revenge. After all, Legolas knew very well how it felt to be on the receiving end, and he knew how pleasurable it was, but when he thought of playing the same games with Elrond as the Lord had played with him, he moaned low in his throat. His right hand moved down over the front of Elrond’s body, until he could curl his fingers around the Lord’s erection to torment him. Elrond shuddered at the first touch and said something unintelligible while his body jerked beneath Legolas. It made him smile.

It struck him all of a sudden, although he had known it already, that Glorfindel’s domination was of a completely different type to this. Glorfindel played games, yes – and that had been proved over the last few month, Legolas thought with a lazy smile as he continued to flick his tongue over Elrond’s nipple – but there was something more serious between them. He couldn’t imagine he and Glorfindel exchanging roles – and he knew he would never want to.

Elrond’s hands were on his shoulders now, trying to push him away, and in answer Legolas reached up and forced Elrond’s wrists back down to the bed. He narrowed his eyes at being disturbed. On the periphery of his vision, he was aware of the bindings still around his wrists, and it gave him an idea…

He knew where the Lord kept the things he would need to secure him, and so when he looked back at the Lord after glancing at the bedposts, his grin was full of confidence. In response to it, Elrond closed his eyes, and Legolas laughed. He got up from the bed slowly, and knelt down to pull out a largish wooden box stashed underneath. Inside he found what he was looking for.

Elrond had used these on him before. They were rope bindings – already tied and ready to be used, with small nooselike circlets to go around Elrond’s wrists. Of course, the more he struggled, the tighter they would become. That seemed fair to Legolas, and this way he didn’t have to worry about inadvertently hurting the Lord – after all, he had never done this before, and a part of his mind was already warning him to be careful.

When he stood up he just looked at Elrond for a moment, taking in the Lord’s naked body with new eyes because what they were about to do was completely different. Whereas before Legolas had paid attention to Elrond’s strength, now he saw the Lord from a different viewpoint, and he observed the way the Lord’s eyelashes trembled against his cheeks, the way his arms rested on the bed where Legolas had left them, despite the fact that the urge to touch himself must be next to impossible to resist.

At the same time as noticing all these new things, Elrond had not changed. His body was muscled and perfectly toned – so strong – and at the thought Elrond was willing to submit to him, Legolas’ heart skipped a beat. Did Elrond know what it meant? Legolas felt so empowered by what was about to happen, and although a voice tried to speak doubt to him, he knew that Elrond would not invite this if he didn’t want it. Elrond wanted him! Legolas smiled giddily while the Lord could not see it, and made a silent promise not to let him down in any way… ever.

Leaning over, Legolas placed a lingering, loving kiss on Elrond’s lips before drawing back, the ties to bind Elrond’s wrists in his hand. “Open your eyes,” Legolas commanded softly, and bit his lip when Elrond looked at him. It was strange. He had that look again – submission – even as his hair was in the braids that denoted his rank as Lord of the Valley, and Legolas knew what he wanted to do first.

He held up the ropes meaningfully, and Elrond stretched out his arms towards the corners of the bed in acceptance. He moved to secure Elrond quickly, although it took longer than he had imagined, and when he had done he sat down on the bed beside him.

“I don’t think you need these anymore,” he said suggestively, and began to undo the elaborate braids in Elrond’s hair. It wasn’t sexual in the least, and yet out of all the things he needed – he needed this first. It meant more than tying Elrond to the bed. It meant possibly more to Legolas than taking him.

“Legolas!” Elrond gasped in shock, but he didn’t stop. In fact, he knew he was doing the right thing as soon as he heard it. Elrond hadn’t been expecting this then. Legolas smiled as he worked. Now, he wore braids of his own, Glorfindel not being enough a part of his life to forbid it. But both of them had used his hair against him, used it to make him feel that he was of no worth or consequence. Legolas grinned when Elrond lay before him finally in complete surrender, his authority removed with the braids in his hair. Perhaps there was a little revenge then… just a little.

“Good,” Legolas breathed, letting his satisfaction show, and his smile only got wider when Elrond closed his eyes at that word. Slowly, wonderingly, he touched Elrond’s face, his fingertips brushing over his eyelids as if he needed the touch to make himself believe that this submission was real.

Elrond sighed at his touch, his eyes staying closed, and Legolas continued to explore his face with his fingertips, tracing the contours of the face that he knew so well, and that nevertheless was something so new and exciting that it terrified Legolas.

This was the Elrond only very few had ever seen. That Elrond would do this for him, that Elrond would give him this gift of submission.... Legolas had to swallow when he realised what this meant.

It meant that Elrond trusted him, trusted him more than any other person in Imladris, for Elrond had told him himself that he had not sought out another since his wife had left.

And it was more than trust, Legolas thought with a smile while his fingers traced over Elrond’s soft lips, remembering how sweet it was to kiss them. This meant that Elrond loved him. The Lord might not want to say it, he might want to call it affection instead, but that which was between them right now, that was real, and Legolas recognised it for what it was.

This was not what was between him and Glorfindel, and certainly it was not what had been between Elrond and Celebrían, but it was love all the same – a unique love that was only theirs.

Legolas smiled and moved to cover Elrond with his body, and kiss the lips he had so far only teased with his touch. “You are beautiful,” he whispered then, kissing the still closed eyelids while his fingers gently combed through Elrond’s hair, luxuriating in the feeling of those silky, black tresses that were for once unbound. It made Elrond seem younger, softer, more relaxed – for once, the weight of his position was removed from his shoulders. He was no longer Lord of Imladris, Loremaster and Healer – he was Elrond, and only Elrond here, lover and friend, and nothing more.

“Legolas...” Elrond whispered now, and while it was not quite pleading yet, it was obvious that he wanted more than the teasing little touches he had had to endure so far.

Almost as if to test him, Elrond now tugged on the ropes that bound him to the bed, and when they did not give, his sigh was strangely satisfied, while Legolas groaned with sudden desire at the feeling of those strong muscles, that hard, male body moving under him - helpless under him.

At Legolas’ moan of desire, Elrond struggled further, but it was in vain. The binds were wonderfully restrictive, and he couldn’t do more than rub his body against Legolas’ helplessly as if in longing. He calmed himself when he wanted to whimper, because he knew Legolas would be frightened and unsure. But he wanted to lose himself in it all so much… Elrond sighed. Perhaps later.

He turned his head and felt his hair loose around his face and neck. That was something he hadn’t expected, and he shivered to recall his earlier words to Legolas now – words that had been uttered to make the Prince accept that his place was to be used.

Or does he prefer to simply keep you in his bed naked, and with open hair?

Elrond opened his eyes and looked at Legolas. Whatever was in his gaze, the Prince’s own eyes narrowed slightly in response, and he continued with the slow, torturous touches that moved further and further down his body – but not far enough, not yet. It made Elrond want to beg, and at the thought he was surprised to hear a moan escaping his lips. So be it.

“Touch me,” he pleaded shamelessly, pulling on the bindings again in an attempt to lift his body, to make Legolas touch that aching part of him if he wanted to or not. Legolas only rolled off him, and Elrond closed his eyes again. The image imprinted on his brain wouldn’t leave him alone though. Legolas still looked so young, slender, lithe and graceful. And there was something about his hair – even in the braids that denoted a warrior-in-training. No one in Imladris had such pale golden hair. And while before it had made the Prince seem delicate and fragile, now, with his newly discovered strength it made the icy blue of his eyes stand out all the more.

The memory of Legolas looking down at him followed Elrond, and he turned his head submissively to get away from it. Everything about Legolas seemed to hold a subtler meaning now. It would not be perhaps the heavy, absolute domination of someone like himself – but something entirely different. Something colder. Something… regal.

He spread his legs when he felt Legolas’ fingers skimming up the inside of his thigh as though he had been commanded. The touch retreated for a long moment that seemed to last an eternity, and when it came back, Elrond gasped.

Ignoring his sharply drawn breath, the oiled fingers moved between his buttocks, sliding over his skin suggestively. It was so willfully ignorant. Elrond could feel his erection lying flat and hard against his stomach, begging to be caressed.

It was a test for his resolve. Was this really what he wanted? Or did he all along envisage that Legolas would still be under his control, even when their positions were reversed? Perhaps. But the knowledge that Legolas ignored his need and desire in order to pursue his own… Elrond moaned softly, and spread his thighs wider to make it easier for Legolas to prepare him.

He could feel Legolas hesitate for a moment when his fingertips finally brushed against the small muscle, but Elrond sighed and made himself relax completely to show that this was what he wanted. He knew that Legolas had to feel insecure, after all he had never done this before – but his show of trust was apparently encouragement enough for Legolas, who slowly slid a well-oiled finger into him.

“Legolas...” Elrond moaned softly, his thighs trembling from the exertion it meant to hold still, to endure Legolas’ slow exploration that with any other he would have called cruel teasing. Yet Legolas had reason enough to hesitate and move slowly as he discovered this new pleasure of dominating another, and it had been a long, long time since Elrond had last experienced this.

And although this was new to Legolas, he was far from being a shy virgin. He may have never done this before – but after a year in Glorfindel’s bed, he had to have more experience than most when it came to what Elrond was feeling now, which the Lord realised when sudden pleasure hit him like lightning.

He cried out, arching from the bed as much as was possible with the tight bindings, and when he fell back with his eyes wide open in shock, Legolas smiled at him in satisfaction.

“So you like that?” he teased, brushing against the spot that made Elrond cry out in pleasure again.

“Well? Do you?” he asked after a moment, when Elrond was panting helplessly beneath him, and the Lord groaned when he realised that Legolas had learned all too well from them. He would make him beg – just the way they had teased him. Elrond shivered with desire when he thought of the many ways Legolas could have his revenge on him tonight.

“Yes,” he finally said breathlessly, his voice sounding strangely weak even to his own ears. “Yes, Legolas... please.”

Legolas laughed softly, and Elrond could not help himself and moaned again.

“You seem strangely lacking in respect for someone who is tied up… Elrond,” he said pointedly, and Elrond gasped for breath as Legolas once again managed to surprise him, while his shaft seemed to harden impossibly more at Legolas’ game.

He had underestimated Legolas – but he loved every minute of this new side of him!

Submissively, he closed his eyes, his head falling back onto the pillow as he surrendered. “Please.... my Prince.”