Butterfly
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
4,964
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
4,964
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
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 2
Chapter2
It hurt to walk. Every movement made the pain seem worse, but Legolas could no longer bear being alone. He was too scared. He needed his Ada to put his arms around him and tell him that everything would be ok, that he was safe. Legolas used the wall for support as he made his way down the dark hallway, still naked. After opening the door to the King’s bedroom, the young Elf slowly made his way to the large bed and crawled under the sheets, snuggling up next to his father and letting the tears break loose.
“Legolas?”
Thranduil was awakened by his son’s loud sobs. He turned to light the kerosene lamp on the nightstand.
“What’s the matter, Legolas? Did someone hurt you?” The King uncovered his son, and saw the bruises on his hips and the dried blood staining the insides of his thighs. Only then did Thranduil realize that it was not a dream. He really had raped his son. Legolas quickly pulled the blanket back up, suddenly feeling ashamed of his body.
Thranduil pulled the shaking Elf close and held him, whispering soothing nonsense to calm him. Tears flowed from the King’s eyes as he realized what he had done. And yet, from deep inside his sinister soul, the roar of evil laughter erupted. Not only had he taken the pleasure of breaking his son, he was the one who got to comfort him as well.
“You need to be seen by a Healer,” Thranduil told his son when the sobbing ceased. “I will go get him, just stay here.”
Legolas frantically shook his head.
“There is no need to be afraid, son. He will not come in here. I will only be gone for a moment.” The King held his son until he fell asleep, gently stroking his hair before placing a kiss on his forehead and leaving to fetch the Healer.
Only about a minute passed before Legolas heard quiet footsteps aachiaching the bed. He looked up to see the worst of his fear’s come true; it was not his father standing in next to the bed but a dark, hooded figure. His hearted pounded in his chest, and all he managed was a voiceless scream before a soft piece of material was placed against his nose, the white powder covering it instantly sending him to the land of dreams.
~~~~~~~
“He will fade.”
“Tha not not yet certain. He can be saved. Today he needs rest, but tomorrow you must go speak with him.”
“He would be more comfortable in the presence of a lady…”
“Mayhap he would be; but you, Celeborn, are the only one who can help him.”
“How? What can I do for him that you cannot?”
“That is not yet clear. All will be revealed in time.”
~~~~~~
The Lord of the Wood pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and sat down, gazing at the beauty that was the sleeping Legolas. Although his heart went out to the poor Elf, he wished he didn’t have to be the one to talk to him. He was never good at dealing with emotions: neither his own or anyone else’s. And considering what Legolas had been through, emotions would come into play. Not wanting to scare the Prince, Celeborn decided to wait until he woke.
It wasn’t long before Legolas began to stir, sitting up when he was fully awake. He looked around the room, remembering where he was. Upon spotting Celeborn, moved to the opposite corner of the bed, curling up in fear. So far he had seen only female servants, who gave him food, but could tell him nothing more than that he was in Lothlorien. Judging by his fancy attire, Legolas suspected that the Elf in the room with him was the Lord of ‘Lorien himself. Yet that did not ease his worry that this was the Elf who had violated him, nor his fear of what he would do to him now.
“Do not be afraid of me, child. I am not the one who hurt you. I am Lord Celeborn, and I assure you that no harm will come to you here, in the Golden Wood.”
Somehow, Legolas felt that he could trust Celeborn. Through the corner of his eye, he looked at the Lord’s hand, which lay resting with slightly spread fingers, upon his thigh. The memory of the hands holding onto his hips that dreadful night was imprinted in his mind. He could still feel them. These hands were different: the fingers were longer, and more slender.
“If it was not you, then who was it? And why am I here?” There was suspicion in the Prince’s voice.
“You are here because you are not safe in your own realm.”
“I wish to return to my Ada.”
“Your Ada is not well, young Prince. We will find a way to help him. Only when he is himself again will it be safe for you to return home.”
“You are wrong, there is nothing wrong with Ada. And if you’re so wise, why won’t you tell me who did this to me?”
“He did… Thranduil did.”
“You lie!” hissed Legolas. “Let me look in the mirror.”
“You need not look in the mirror, Legolas. I speak the truth.”
“He may look, if he so desires.” Galadriel’s rich voice came from the doorway.
“He is not ready,” the Lord objected.
“The sooner he deals with the truth, the sooner he will begin to heal…”
“Or fade… we can not risk exposing him to such emotional trauma so soon.”
“It will be better this way,” the Lady gracefully extended an elegant hand. “Come, we will look.”
Legolas shot Celeborn an evil glare and left the bed to go take the Galadriel’s hand. The Lord took a deep breath of defeat, and followed.
~~~~~~
The Prince of Mirkwood waited impatiently while Galadriel poured the water, yet hesitated when she stepped away. Did he really want to relive the details of his own rape?
He contemplated his decision for a few seconds, but finally gave in to curiosity and the need for vengeance.
At first he saw nothing. Legolas was beginning to doubt the power of the mirror when, at last, the first image came. He saw himself lying on his own bed, sleeping, while his father sat on the edge holding a rope.
Next he saw his father tying his hands, blindfolding, and gagging him. “No…” the Prince whispered, unwilling to believe his own eyes. He began to step back when the vision progressed, and he saw his father spread his legs, and shove his Elfhood inside him, his own blood-hurling scream piercing his mind.
“Nooo!” the young Elf repeated the word over and over while he continued moving backwards until he bumped into Celeborn. “It cannot be true…” He grabbed hold of the Lord’s sleeve as he slid to the ground in tears: his world shattered. “No, not Ada…. please… it cannot be.”
Tbc….
It hurt to walk. Every movement made the pain seem worse, but Legolas could no longer bear being alone. He was too scared. He needed his Ada to put his arms around him and tell him that everything would be ok, that he was safe. Legolas used the wall for support as he made his way down the dark hallway, still naked. After opening the door to the King’s bedroom, the young Elf slowly made his way to the large bed and crawled under the sheets, snuggling up next to his father and letting the tears break loose.
“Legolas?”
Thranduil was awakened by his son’s loud sobs. He turned to light the kerosene lamp on the nightstand.
“What’s the matter, Legolas? Did someone hurt you?” The King uncovered his son, and saw the bruises on his hips and the dried blood staining the insides of his thighs. Only then did Thranduil realize that it was not a dream. He really had raped his son. Legolas quickly pulled the blanket back up, suddenly feeling ashamed of his body.
Thranduil pulled the shaking Elf close and held him, whispering soothing nonsense to calm him. Tears flowed from the King’s eyes as he realized what he had done. And yet, from deep inside his sinister soul, the roar of evil laughter erupted. Not only had he taken the pleasure of breaking his son, he was the one who got to comfort him as well.
“You need to be seen by a Healer,” Thranduil told his son when the sobbing ceased. “I will go get him, just stay here.”
Legolas frantically shook his head.
“There is no need to be afraid, son. He will not come in here. I will only be gone for a moment.” The King held his son until he fell asleep, gently stroking his hair before placing a kiss on his forehead and leaving to fetch the Healer.
Only about a minute passed before Legolas heard quiet footsteps aachiaching the bed. He looked up to see the worst of his fear’s come true; it was not his father standing in next to the bed but a dark, hooded figure. His hearted pounded in his chest, and all he managed was a voiceless scream before a soft piece of material was placed against his nose, the white powder covering it instantly sending him to the land of dreams.
~~~~~~~
“He will fade.”
“Tha not not yet certain. He can be saved. Today he needs rest, but tomorrow you must go speak with him.”
“He would be more comfortable in the presence of a lady…”
“Mayhap he would be; but you, Celeborn, are the only one who can help him.”
“How? What can I do for him that you cannot?”
“That is not yet clear. All will be revealed in time.”
~~~~~~
The Lord of the Wood pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and sat down, gazing at the beauty that was the sleeping Legolas. Although his heart went out to the poor Elf, he wished he didn’t have to be the one to talk to him. He was never good at dealing with emotions: neither his own or anyone else’s. And considering what Legolas had been through, emotions would come into play. Not wanting to scare the Prince, Celeborn decided to wait until he woke.
It wasn’t long before Legolas began to stir, sitting up when he was fully awake. He looked around the room, remembering where he was. Upon spotting Celeborn, moved to the opposite corner of the bed, curling up in fear. So far he had seen only female servants, who gave him food, but could tell him nothing more than that he was in Lothlorien. Judging by his fancy attire, Legolas suspected that the Elf in the room with him was the Lord of ‘Lorien himself. Yet that did not ease his worry that this was the Elf who had violated him, nor his fear of what he would do to him now.
“Do not be afraid of me, child. I am not the one who hurt you. I am Lord Celeborn, and I assure you that no harm will come to you here, in the Golden Wood.”
Somehow, Legolas felt that he could trust Celeborn. Through the corner of his eye, he looked at the Lord’s hand, which lay resting with slightly spread fingers, upon his thigh. The memory of the hands holding onto his hips that dreadful night was imprinted in his mind. He could still feel them. These hands were different: the fingers were longer, and more slender.
“If it was not you, then who was it? And why am I here?” There was suspicion in the Prince’s voice.
“You are here because you are not safe in your own realm.”
“I wish to return to my Ada.”
“Your Ada is not well, young Prince. We will find a way to help him. Only when he is himself again will it be safe for you to return home.”
“You are wrong, there is nothing wrong with Ada. And if you’re so wise, why won’t you tell me who did this to me?”
“He did… Thranduil did.”
“You lie!” hissed Legolas. “Let me look in the mirror.”
“You need not look in the mirror, Legolas. I speak the truth.”
“He may look, if he so desires.” Galadriel’s rich voice came from the doorway.
“He is not ready,” the Lord objected.
“The sooner he deals with the truth, the sooner he will begin to heal…”
“Or fade… we can not risk exposing him to such emotional trauma so soon.”
“It will be better this way,” the Lady gracefully extended an elegant hand. “Come, we will look.”
Legolas shot Celeborn an evil glare and left the bed to go take the Galadriel’s hand. The Lord took a deep breath of defeat, and followed.
~~~~~~
The Prince of Mirkwood waited impatiently while Galadriel poured the water, yet hesitated when she stepped away. Did he really want to relive the details of his own rape?
He contemplated his decision for a few seconds, but finally gave in to curiosity and the need for vengeance.
At first he saw nothing. Legolas was beginning to doubt the power of the mirror when, at last, the first image came. He saw himself lying on his own bed, sleeping, while his father sat on the edge holding a rope.
Next he saw his father tying his hands, blindfolding, and gagging him. “No…” the Prince whispered, unwilling to believe his own eyes. He began to step back when the vision progressed, and he saw his father spread his legs, and shove his Elfhood inside him, his own blood-hurling scream piercing his mind.
“Nooo!” the young Elf repeated the word over and over while he continued moving backwards until he bumped into Celeborn. “It cannot be true…” He grabbed hold of the Lord’s sleeve as he slid to the ground in tears: his world shattered. “No, not Ada…. please… it cannot be.”
Tbc….