Cuil Eden
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
77
Views:
65,740
Reviews:
290
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
77
Views:
65,740
Reviews:
290
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 28
Title: Cuil Eden
Part: 28/?
Rating: PG-13
Series: Sequel to Anestel and Ethuil'waew
Author: Esteliel (esteliel[at]gmx.de)
Homepage: www.loes-valthen.de.vu
Pairing: Glorfindel/Legolas
Warnings: mpreg, d/s
Disclaimer: All the pretty elves belong to Tolkien, I'm just playing with them and will give them back afterwards.
Archive: list-archive sure, everybody else please ask first
Summary: Legolas learns that despite the events told in "Anestel", life continues.
Beta by Calenharn Elflover, thank you so much for all your help. :)
------------------------
"Yes, I… I misbehaved,“Legolas forced himself to admit, not daring to raise his eyes as he waited for another humiliating remark. “My lord punished me so I would not bring dishonor to him and to myself again.”
“The punishment can not have been very hard then,” Celeborn said with a pointed look to Legolas’ lap. “Or have you truly learned to find pleasure in your lord’s touch, no matter if caress or chastisement?”
“No!” Legolas protested, then flushed with shame at his impolite response. “No, my lord... I do not, I just, I... I like being close to my lord,” he admitted, feeling shame at his body’s reaction, and at the easiness with which he answered the Lord of the Golden Wood. Certainly these questions were designed to humiliate him – but what else could he do but show Celeborn the respect and deference he deserved as ruler of his realm, especially when Glorfindel was with him?
“Hmmm... that you realize this is a beginning, at least,” Celeborn said with a smile that was partly amused, but partly tinged with real affection. “And why should you not enjoy being close to him? The Lord of the Golden Flower is one of the mightiest warriors of our time, and the flame of his fëa burns brightly within him. All who see him are dazzled, maidens and younglings alike, and Lords and Kings would happily give their children to him to bind the most exalted of the Gondolindrim to their houses – yet he chose you.”
"Yes,“ Legolas acknowledged softly. He did not know what Celeborn wanted of him – but his words were true. Glorfindel had chosen him, and while then he had been a spoil of war – not much better than what humans would call slave – by now, he was more. He did not know exactly what he was, but he was not a slave. The Glorfindel he knew gave freely of his affection, was concerned with Legolas’ wellfare and education, continually teaching him – and Glorfindel did not allow even the smallest slight of him. No, Legolas was no slave – but what was he then? The "captain’s little love", one of the guards had called him, but Legolas shied away from that train of thought.
If he thought back to what his life had been like in Mirkwood, he knew that this was much more than what he could ever have hoped to have had there. Glorfindel could be warm and full of affection for him, and lately, even when he had thought it necessary to discipline him, Legolas had not feared him. It was as if the earlier conglomerate of emotions, the hatred for the Sindar of Mirkwood, the derision and the often cruel lust, had been washed away by time and left behind a Glorfindel that seemed playful even when disciplining him - never angry, but playing a game that Legolas did not yet understand.
Glorfindel gently stroked Legolas’ hair, then sighed and got up. “I think I just heard Gîl... I will go see if he has woken. Please pour the lord more wine; I know that he likes this vintage.”
Legolas nodded, not sure what else to do. Obediently he got up and poured some more of the ruby liquid into Celeborn’s goblet, then poured some more for Glorfindel as well. For a moment he wondered whether he was supposed to kneel again, but while he did not mind kneeling at Glorfindel’s side as this position often brought pleasurable caresses, somehow he did not want to kneel in front of Celeborn and so took Glorfindel’s chair instead.
"There is no shame in enjoying your submission, you do realize that?” Celeborn said, his voice soft as if he were simply voicing his thoughts aloud without being aware that Legolas was listening. “Many of our most revered warriors and kings chose to play games in the safety of their bed chambers, games of submission and dominance, and none of it had anything to do with their wise ruling or valiant fighting. And why should there be shame in a lord who continually has to bear the responsibility for the well-being of hundreds of elves seeking relief from the pressure of that burden? Why should there be shame in him abandoning all his fears and worries for an hour in which he is not allowed to make a single decision, so that his lover can dominate him and help him to find a few moments of peace in his submission?”
Celeborn was quiet for a moment, as if to give Legolas time to muse over his words, but perhaps he was only remembering the kings and lords of whom he spoke.
“And what of their lovers, the lords, the warriors who lost so much? Is it simple cruelty, their need to dominate, their excitement at hearing their loved ones gasp in pain? Or is theirs perhaps a need just as great as that of their lovers? Those who crossed the Helcaraxë, those who brought death to their kin at Alqualondë, those who fought and lost their families to the evil of Morgoth... If those developed a taste for control, is it that hard to understand? If they find relief from their memories and their guilt in their lover’s graceful submission, in an obediently arched back – in the knowledge that they can bring peace to their beloved’s mind, be it by pleasure or pain or even humiliation... Can you judge them?”
“These games, young prince, have been played long before you were born. And your lord is a rare master. There should be no shame in your eyes, Legolas. I am one of the few true friends your lord has, and what I see, I understand. I can see that he has chosen you – he, who could have anyone. Do not feel shame. You are a prince, the Valar have gifted you with a beautiful child and the famed Balrog slayer Glorfindel of Gondolin cares for you and will protect you. Is this not enough reason to feel pride in who you are, child?”
Legolas stared into the ruby liquid that was glistening in the silver goblet, gazing at the small waves that destroyed the mirrorlike surface at his smallest move. He did not know how to respond to Celeborn’s words. He had not imagined that he would be treated thus – he had readied himself for derision, for words befitting a slave. Yet he was treated as a prince – as an equal to the Lord Celeborn, despite the continued references to his age – although that was no wonder. He had not even reached his majority yet, whereas Celeborn had dwelt in the Halls of Menegroth and saw the sack of Doriath and the wrath of Fëanor’s sons. Compared to him, Legolas was indeed little more than a child, although he himself felt that he had already matured beyond his years.
“Thank you for your words, my lord,” he finally said, and although his voice was soft, it was nevertheless firm. “I will think about what you have told me today. I am... grateful that you spoke so freely with me.” He was not yet sure what to think of Celeborn’s words. Certainly he might be right, as he had already seen Ellonúr beg for Glorfindel’s mastery over him, for the bite of the cane even – yet somehow he still could not believe that there were those who asked for pain, who even enjoyed it.
Unhappily, he remembered how he had squirmed when Glorfindel had pulled him over his lap, and how his Lord’s touch had aroused him despite the humiliating position he was in – yet this was different somehow, it had to be, he told himself. He was not like Ellonúr, he would never beg to be hurt!
Celeborn nodded slowly. "Yes, think about them... that is all I ask. You might be confused about a lot of things, young one, but there is no need for you to feel shame. Do not allow people to ridicule you for what happens in the privacy of your bed chamber, but know that these things have existed for almost as long as the days of the Firstborn. You are a prince of your people, and you deserve respect for that.”
Then Celeborn smiled, somewhat mischievious, and leaned forward to whisper: “Unless your lord has invited one of his oldest friends who shares his interests, of course – then you are not so much prince, but the one who submits to his lover’s cane to please him.” He chuckled softly and leaned back, watching Glorfindel enter the room once again. “What happens here will not be told to anyone else, Legolas, I promise you that.”
Glorfindel raised a brow as he returned to his chair. “You seem to have had an interesting conversation!” Legolas immediately got up, but before he could kneel in front of the chair once more, Glorfindel pulled him onto his lap, pressing a quick kiss to his temple. “So, what have you been talking about, mellon nín?”
“I have been wondering – Mallorn cane, right?” Celeborn said. “The welts certainly look like it, and I know that you have always favored that wood.”
Glorfindel chuckled. “Yes, indeed. Mallorn is very... rewarding, in trained hands. Yet I know that you favor other materials. Have you ever tried warg hide, I wonder? “
Legolas’ mind began to stray from the topic the two lords were currently discussing. He leaned his head against Glorfindel’s shoulder and enjoyed the warmth of the arms that came to embrace him, while he once again began to rethink Celeborn’s remarks. His explanations had been interesting – no, more than that, a revelation even. Knowing that there had been lords, kings even, who would submit to a lover in the seclusion of their bed chamber... this was something he would have to contemplate carefully, and mayhap Glorfindel could be made to tell him an anecdote or two.
Part: 28/?
Rating: PG-13
Series: Sequel to Anestel and Ethuil'waew
Author: Esteliel (esteliel[at]gmx.de)
Homepage: www.loes-valthen.de.vu
Pairing: Glorfindel/Legolas
Warnings: mpreg, d/s
Disclaimer: All the pretty elves belong to Tolkien, I'm just playing with them and will give them back afterwards.
Archive: list-archive sure, everybody else please ask first
Summary: Legolas learns that despite the events told in "Anestel", life continues.
Beta by Calenharn Elflover, thank you so much for all your help. :)
------------------------
"Yes, I… I misbehaved,“Legolas forced himself to admit, not daring to raise his eyes as he waited for another humiliating remark. “My lord punished me so I would not bring dishonor to him and to myself again.”
“The punishment can not have been very hard then,” Celeborn said with a pointed look to Legolas’ lap. “Or have you truly learned to find pleasure in your lord’s touch, no matter if caress or chastisement?”
“No!” Legolas protested, then flushed with shame at his impolite response. “No, my lord... I do not, I just, I... I like being close to my lord,” he admitted, feeling shame at his body’s reaction, and at the easiness with which he answered the Lord of the Golden Wood. Certainly these questions were designed to humiliate him – but what else could he do but show Celeborn the respect and deference he deserved as ruler of his realm, especially when Glorfindel was with him?
“Hmmm... that you realize this is a beginning, at least,” Celeborn said with a smile that was partly amused, but partly tinged with real affection. “And why should you not enjoy being close to him? The Lord of the Golden Flower is one of the mightiest warriors of our time, and the flame of his fëa burns brightly within him. All who see him are dazzled, maidens and younglings alike, and Lords and Kings would happily give their children to him to bind the most exalted of the Gondolindrim to their houses – yet he chose you.”
"Yes,“ Legolas acknowledged softly. He did not know what Celeborn wanted of him – but his words were true. Glorfindel had chosen him, and while then he had been a spoil of war – not much better than what humans would call slave – by now, he was more. He did not know exactly what he was, but he was not a slave. The Glorfindel he knew gave freely of his affection, was concerned with Legolas’ wellfare and education, continually teaching him – and Glorfindel did not allow even the smallest slight of him. No, Legolas was no slave – but what was he then? The "captain’s little love", one of the guards had called him, but Legolas shied away from that train of thought.
If he thought back to what his life had been like in Mirkwood, he knew that this was much more than what he could ever have hoped to have had there. Glorfindel could be warm and full of affection for him, and lately, even when he had thought it necessary to discipline him, Legolas had not feared him. It was as if the earlier conglomerate of emotions, the hatred for the Sindar of Mirkwood, the derision and the often cruel lust, had been washed away by time and left behind a Glorfindel that seemed playful even when disciplining him - never angry, but playing a game that Legolas did not yet understand.
Glorfindel gently stroked Legolas’ hair, then sighed and got up. “I think I just heard Gîl... I will go see if he has woken. Please pour the lord more wine; I know that he likes this vintage.”
Legolas nodded, not sure what else to do. Obediently he got up and poured some more of the ruby liquid into Celeborn’s goblet, then poured some more for Glorfindel as well. For a moment he wondered whether he was supposed to kneel again, but while he did not mind kneeling at Glorfindel’s side as this position often brought pleasurable caresses, somehow he did not want to kneel in front of Celeborn and so took Glorfindel’s chair instead.
"There is no shame in enjoying your submission, you do realize that?” Celeborn said, his voice soft as if he were simply voicing his thoughts aloud without being aware that Legolas was listening. “Many of our most revered warriors and kings chose to play games in the safety of their bed chambers, games of submission and dominance, and none of it had anything to do with their wise ruling or valiant fighting. And why should there be shame in a lord who continually has to bear the responsibility for the well-being of hundreds of elves seeking relief from the pressure of that burden? Why should there be shame in him abandoning all his fears and worries for an hour in which he is not allowed to make a single decision, so that his lover can dominate him and help him to find a few moments of peace in his submission?”
Celeborn was quiet for a moment, as if to give Legolas time to muse over his words, but perhaps he was only remembering the kings and lords of whom he spoke.
“And what of their lovers, the lords, the warriors who lost so much? Is it simple cruelty, their need to dominate, their excitement at hearing their loved ones gasp in pain? Or is theirs perhaps a need just as great as that of their lovers? Those who crossed the Helcaraxë, those who brought death to their kin at Alqualondë, those who fought and lost their families to the evil of Morgoth... If those developed a taste for control, is it that hard to understand? If they find relief from their memories and their guilt in their lover’s graceful submission, in an obediently arched back – in the knowledge that they can bring peace to their beloved’s mind, be it by pleasure or pain or even humiliation... Can you judge them?”
“These games, young prince, have been played long before you were born. And your lord is a rare master. There should be no shame in your eyes, Legolas. I am one of the few true friends your lord has, and what I see, I understand. I can see that he has chosen you – he, who could have anyone. Do not feel shame. You are a prince, the Valar have gifted you with a beautiful child and the famed Balrog slayer Glorfindel of Gondolin cares for you and will protect you. Is this not enough reason to feel pride in who you are, child?”
Legolas stared into the ruby liquid that was glistening in the silver goblet, gazing at the small waves that destroyed the mirrorlike surface at his smallest move. He did not know how to respond to Celeborn’s words. He had not imagined that he would be treated thus – he had readied himself for derision, for words befitting a slave. Yet he was treated as a prince – as an equal to the Lord Celeborn, despite the continued references to his age – although that was no wonder. He had not even reached his majority yet, whereas Celeborn had dwelt in the Halls of Menegroth and saw the sack of Doriath and the wrath of Fëanor’s sons. Compared to him, Legolas was indeed little more than a child, although he himself felt that he had already matured beyond his years.
“Thank you for your words, my lord,” he finally said, and although his voice was soft, it was nevertheless firm. “I will think about what you have told me today. I am... grateful that you spoke so freely with me.” He was not yet sure what to think of Celeborn’s words. Certainly he might be right, as he had already seen Ellonúr beg for Glorfindel’s mastery over him, for the bite of the cane even – yet somehow he still could not believe that there were those who asked for pain, who even enjoyed it.
Unhappily, he remembered how he had squirmed when Glorfindel had pulled him over his lap, and how his Lord’s touch had aroused him despite the humiliating position he was in – yet this was different somehow, it had to be, he told himself. He was not like Ellonúr, he would never beg to be hurt!
Celeborn nodded slowly. "Yes, think about them... that is all I ask. You might be confused about a lot of things, young one, but there is no need for you to feel shame. Do not allow people to ridicule you for what happens in the privacy of your bed chamber, but know that these things have existed for almost as long as the days of the Firstborn. You are a prince of your people, and you deserve respect for that.”
Then Celeborn smiled, somewhat mischievious, and leaned forward to whisper: “Unless your lord has invited one of his oldest friends who shares his interests, of course – then you are not so much prince, but the one who submits to his lover’s cane to please him.” He chuckled softly and leaned back, watching Glorfindel enter the room once again. “What happens here will not be told to anyone else, Legolas, I promise you that.”
Glorfindel raised a brow as he returned to his chair. “You seem to have had an interesting conversation!” Legolas immediately got up, but before he could kneel in front of the chair once more, Glorfindel pulled him onto his lap, pressing a quick kiss to his temple. “So, what have you been talking about, mellon nín?”
“I have been wondering – Mallorn cane, right?” Celeborn said. “The welts certainly look like it, and I know that you have always favored that wood.”
Glorfindel chuckled. “Yes, indeed. Mallorn is very... rewarding, in trained hands. Yet I know that you favor other materials. Have you ever tried warg hide, I wonder? “
Legolas’ mind began to stray from the topic the two lords were currently discussing. He leaned his head against Glorfindel’s shoulder and enjoyed the warmth of the arms that came to embrace him, while he once again began to rethink Celeborn’s remarks. His explanations had been interesting – no, more than that, a revelation even. Knowing that there had been lords, kings even, who would submit to a lover in the seclusion of their bed chamber... this was something he would have to contemplate carefully, and mayhap Glorfindel could be made to tell him an anecdote or two.