Feud

A/N: Sorry about the poor posting! Should all be here now! Thank-you Mawgy for telling me!

Memory vividly accosted his thoughts, forcing the Elven Lord to relive the scandalous scene: Legolas' lithe body bent in lewd display as Erestor shoved his cock in and out relentlessly, the wild elf's desperate entreaties for deeper penetration, the sight of his exposed penis, crowded with the swollen sack, as the seneschal grabbed it, the ecstatic scream as Legolas' ejaculation pearled through the air.

Rage coursed through him and Elrond leaped up from the log. This offense would not go unanswered!

He returned to the village, recalling both of his promises to enlighten Thranduil. He would enjoy revealing Legolas' debauchery to the Woodland King. Let him know nothing in his House went untouched by Imladris, even as Thranduil's existence had hovered near all the losses the Noldo Lord had endured. And revealing the cause for the harassment by Dol Guldur would surely incite terror and havoc throughout Mirkwood. Perhaps the Nandorin Elves would no longer be so appreciative of their king's renowned wealth. {Especially,} he mused, {if the messenger learns the dire nature of the communication. Gossip will spread the words to every citizen in the Woodland Realm: their King is harboring the most destructively evil object in all of Middle Earth!}

While the Wood Elf and the Noldo enjoyed their gentle post-coital chat, the Lord of Imladris composed his scathingly derogatory missive and included the cloth soiled with Legolas' blood and his own essence.

As the messenger left the village, Elrond cared not that his action could seal Legolas' fate as a traitor to the Greenwood, naming him the lover of its Regent's greatest antagonist. Such betrayal would mean permanent banishment from his homeland and severance from Tawar forever.

Safe in the protection of the sanctuary, lost in the consummation of their delicious lechery, Legolas and Erestor remained ignorant of the intrusion.

Erestor cautiously removed his spent organ from the searing envelopment of the wild elf's body, terrified to look for fear of finding Legolas' blood coating him. If there were such evidence of his impassioned ferocity he would never forgive himself. Carefully he transferred the completely lax limbs from his shoulders, laying the long legs out upon the bank. Legolas' feet dipped into the cooling water and Erestor heard a light exhalation as he shifted, rippling the fluid around his ankles. It did not sound like an expression of discomfort and so the advisor dared to examine himself. Relief flooded him and guilt departed for no discernible scarlet stains covered his slackened genitalia.

"Are you alright, Legolas? Have I hurt you in any way?" he whispered as he climbed up onto the refreshingly springy grasses and scooped the weary woodland warrior into his secure embrace. Legolas turned in the hold and snuggled against the Noldo with another soft sigh, resting upon the comfortable firmness of the broad smooth chest. Erestor felt the rapid impression of velvety lips caress the skin overlying his heart and a strong surge of joy engulfed him.

"Nay, you have given me no pain, only great pleasure. I have never felt this way with anyone else," Legolas whispered shakily and squeezed tightly in hopes of transmitting the fullness of his gratitude through the contact.

This admission was deeply moving for the advisor to hear, for it was confirmation of his own suspicions, and this was truly saddening. A joining such as they had shared was what Legolas deserved, and he should never have been taught to accept anything less. He gently stroked the golden hair and caressed across the scarred shoulders, desiring to comfort his partner.

"It pleases me to know all is well," he said and leaned his cheek against the mound of unruly tresses tucked against him.

But Erestor understood now what Elrond had meant about Legolas' demands and the overwhelming force of the sexual enticement his perverted appetite for pain created. He had refused to let the seneschal return to the thicket for the oil and Erestor had used only the water from the stream for lubrication, and had not been gentle in taking him. It was difficult to admit that the sensation of his penis scraping against the jagged ridges of the marred muscle within the misused elf had been unbelievably stimulating. He had intended to be careful, allowing his invasive piercing to be deep and thorough but not jarring or injurious. Yet Legolas had begged for more and Erestor had been unable to resist his own urge to use every ounce of strength he could rally to fuck the feral elf nearly into oblivious stupor.

"Many have shared their first experience with me," he resumed, "and I have never hurt anyone even under such delicate conditions! Indeed, I am considered very adept and skillful in this regard. I could not abide the thought of you being the first to know pain from my lovemaking!"

"Worry not; your reputation is well earned and quite safe!" the archer said, and Erestor thought he detected a hint of mirth tinting these words.

"You think me boastful, Pen-rhovan, but I am actually being quite humble!" he scolded indignantly and was dismayed when Legolas laughed outright.

"Berenaur, if this is modesty do not ever speak of your real abilities or I will be unable to restrain my unbridled cupidity!" he said within his gleeful chuckling.

Erestor gave an ungracious snort but smiled to have made Legolas laugh; it was a good sound to hear.

"There are no deficits in your own proficiency for giving pleasure, either," he praised and Legolas wriggled closer into his embrace.

"Coming from one who has sampled so many elves and shares body and soul with two lovers at once that is high praise indeed," he joked softly, and now it was Berenaur who laughed lightly in response.

"Ah! I have not felt so relaxed since my last visit to Lorien! Legolas, you are as soothing to the spirit as you are to the flesh!"

"Why do you not resettle in the Golden Wood, then? Clearly you long to be with Penbara and Penraeg," Legolas commented, comfortable using the nicknames since he had earned one himself.

"I am bound to the Court of Imladris by my oath of allegiance to the High King." the seneschal said, exhaling a wistful breath. "It is a trying position yet I could not in good conscience leave when I am so needed. You would scarcely believe what goes on in the Last Homely House, and without my attention the whole of Imladris would end up in disarray," he said with exaggerated drama and was soon explaining exactly what he meant by these words in precise detail.

Peacefully content in Berenaur's arms, Legolas lay smiling as the advisor prattled on about the most mundane things that occurred in Imladris. He complained of this elf's rudeness and that diplomat's hauteur, expounded on the hardheadedness of the stable master, slandered Glorfindel terribly as a lazy lout, and even disparaged the chintzy portions of honeyed butter allotted at breakfast.

Legolas found the incessant chatter endearing; he had never heard anyone talk so much! Malthen had rarely spoken after sex; usually leaving Legolas rigfterfter their completion to sleep in his own quarters. Even during the time they served together in the patrols it was Legolas who did most of the talking between them. Maltahondo, he remembered now, had a predilection for lecturing and instructions rather than conversation.

His one other lover had enjoyed talking only if he could speak obscenely and publicly embarrass Legolas, boastfully and explicitly describing every sound Legolas emitted, from the gentlest sough to his most lasciviously pleading screams, for all that would listen. They had argued bitterly over it, yet Legolas did not want to admit he was unable to make the match chosen for him work. When his lover had left the Greenwood permanently Legolas had not been upset in the least.

These musings were too dark and dreary to accompany the cheerful gleam of Anor and the tranquil familiarity of the Noldo's protective embrace, he decided, and banished the memories from awareness to concentrate on the rambling discourse.

The seneschal was completing a tale involving a prized Numenorean vase and the Elf Lord's daughter. Apparently she had given it away on a whim to the mother of a young courtier from Lorien, and the ensuing chaos and attempts to retrieve the priceless item had fallen on the advisor to remedy. Berenaur laughed softly and sighed, squeezing Legolas again and rubbing his palms luxuriously over his naked back.

The touch became assessing as he fingered individual scars, worrying them. The seneschal's words did not resume and his body tensed under his companion's weight, as he seemed to withdraw into melancholy introspection.

Legolas looked up to find a concerned and worried expression regarding him, and instantly became unsettled. "What is it? What is wrong, Berenaur?" he asked and did not understand why these simple words made the Noldo wince as if pained.

Of course, it was only that one specific falsehood that grieved the older elf to hear: the name Berenaur. Erestor's conscience was mercilessly berating him for continuing this egregious deception upon the Wood Elf who deserved not such abuse. He drew a shaky breath and tried to steel his nerve for the task at hand.

"Legolas, I wish to speak seriously to you. What I say will be difficult to learn, and even now I hesitate to relay too much for fear of adding to the injurious treatment you have already sustained!" he began, and Legolas leaned up on his elbows to stare at him with dread.

He was not certain he cared to have this information if it meant absorbing fresh insults.

"What is this about?" he asked guardedly, and the Noldo could see the anxiety seeping into him, dislodging his former tranquility.

"It is about Erestor. Or, actually, it is more about Elrond of Imladris that I would speak," he ventured cautiously into the suspect terrain. "And myself, for I have been a willing participant."

Pen-rhovan's response betrayed his conflicted emotions. He sat up to have a clearer view of his partner's features and wrapped his arms about himself, curious about the Elven Lord's part in the plot but instinctively withdrawing from the predicted shock.

"What does he think about me?" he asked tentatively, not yet brave enough to ask what he truly wanted to know.

The question threw Erestor off-guard a bit, for he had not expected the note of hopeful expectation underscoring the fallen prince's words. This could be stickier than he had at first comprehended, and the advisor began to understand why Aiwendil had not been overly eager to reveal the truth to the forest champion.

"Ah," he said lamely and tried to gather and reorder his thoughts. "Well, I know he thinks you are courageous and resourceful, fair-minded and intelligent, and unjustly accursed by this awful Judgement!" he revealed honestly and observed Legolas' brows ride skyward in surprise.

"All that? He has never even met me; how can what you say be so?" he demanded.

Erestor realized his error; he had not quite thought this through. He would now have to either construct more lies or just come out with the brutal truth, neither choice desirable.

He looked at the unsuspecting elf's expectant expression and read there the hopeful neediness for some sort of positive confirmation of the things he had just heard. The seneschal understood with a constricting sensation around his heart that Legolas wanted to believe there was a wise and noble Lord somewhere out in the faraway reaches beyond the Misty Mountains that knew of and cared about him.

Legolas was seeking his father.

This was far worse than he had considered. He could not explain his own true name without revealing Elrond's. But the wild elf obviously believed what Erestor himself thought likely: that the Noldo Lord had begot him. To learn his own father had viciously bedded him, that was a concept too hideous to entertain. The seneschal shuddered, thinking how he would react to such a grotesque situation, and fearing how this would impact upon Legolas' grief-stricken mind.

"Hmmm, yes," he stammered, "Even so, he does know much about you. You may be isolated here, forbidden to discuss anything of your situation, but others are not. Not everyone is subject to the Custom and Law of the Woodland Realm," he stalled.

"Mithrandir!" the Wood Elf devised his own conclusion and smiled. "Has he told Elrond about me, then?"

Erestor blinked and managed a shaky half-smile in answer. It churned his gut, this en-miring quickmud of deceit, but he could not bear to destroy the wild elf's hopes so completely as the truth would surely do. It occurred to him, in light of the illusion the younger elf had been harboring all this time, that the reality of his relationship with Elrond might actually kill him.

{Better for him to remain in ignorance of the healer's true identity,} he concluded and thus rejected his desire for full disclosure. Berenaur, it seemed, would remain a fictitious reality.

"Mithrandir, yes; I am sure he has spoken to Elrond about you. However, it is not so much this that I wanted to address." He said and attempted to steer the conversation toward a partial admission of the subterfuge perpetrated upon the outcast.

"I was not lywhenwhen I said earlier that my colleague and I had discussed how to go about getting you to grant us sexual favors. We thought you would be more open to revealing Thranduil's secrets if we courted you thus. My part in it all I completely regret, especially now after what we have shared."

Here Erestor reached out and gently stroked his fingers across Legolas' jaw and the archer allowed the caress to travel on around his throat and past his ear where toe touch remained softly alight on the nape of the neck.

"However, I do not understand what my old friend is thinking regarding this. I do not want you to continue to have sex with the healer, Legolas; he does not consider how he harms you!" the seneschal finished all in a rush and waited apprehensively for Pen-rhovan's justified outrage.

To his amazement Legolas smiled hugely and flung himself back over the Noldo's body, settling himself securely back within his arms.

"You are worried about me!" he exhaled delightedly. "Do not; I have not given my heart to him and will not suffer much when he departs!"

Legolas was simply not in any frame of mind to generate anger. The Noldo had apologized so many times, and had already told Legolas this disturbingly erotic truth. It was somehow exciting to think of them discussing him so even prior to meeting him, desiring him before they even looked upon him. He found Berenaur's protective jealousy unexpectedly flattering, this was the first time Legolas had ever come between two elves.

Erestor was dumbfounded as he felt the delicate pressure of his companion's lips focus again on the spot over his very rapidly pounding heart, and squeezed back supposedly to reassure the feral elf but more to alleviate his own tension.

They remained silently contemplative as they re-established their previous comfort level, yet the seneschal could feel a slight tension remaining in Legolas' limbs. After several minutes Pen-rhovan stirred and his fingers began absentmindedly twisting a lock of the Noldo's glossy raven-hued hair.

"Berenaur," he said and paused. "What else does Elrond say about me? I know about his relationship with my mother; you need not fear revealing a confidence in this respect," he cajoled. "Does Elrond consider me, does he think he is," Legolas struggled to get this question asked. Everytime he brought it up some appalling reply left him wounded; he was wary of repeating the experience.

"Legolas," the advisor frowned ae hee hesitant quality of his partner's speech knowing exactly what the Wood Elf wanted to say. "If you are asking whether Elrond believes himself to be your father, then I must answer no." He felt the tenseness dissolve away to be replaced by a palpable sensation of gloomy disappointment.

A great sigh escaped from Legolas and he lay limp and listless a long time, and Erestor could not think what to do other than to gently caress the troubled elf's shoulders. The silence stretched on as neither spoke, for the seneschal feared to make matters worse not knowing how the fallen prince was digesting this revelation. At last he felt another tremendous heave against his chest.

"Then, Elrond believes Thranduil is my father?" Legolas raised his head to look questioningly at Berenaur, as though he needed the confirmation to be able to accept this fact. The expression of revulsion in his eyes was clearly evident.

But about these matters Erestor did not see any need for lies and so he sought to mitigate that unpleasant reaction to the concept of the overbearing and avaricious Woodland King as a father.

"Nay! Elrond does not think that; indeed, few knowing the whole story would consider this true! The Lord of Imladris believes your mother's long relationship with her personal guardsman generated your conception!" he said.

The response this created was not what he had expected. Legolas shoved back and sat up from him, staring with the most horrendous expression of disbelieving shock and repugnance the Noldo had ever seen.

"What! Why would he say that? Malthen cannot be my father!" he wailed hysterically and reached for Erestor's shoulders, shaking him for emphasis.

The seneschal grasped his arms and tried to steady him, but Legolas was becoming more distraught by the second and began struggling to escape.

"It is a lie! It must be a lie! He would not do that to me!" Legolas was screaming these words in tones that could only pour from the rending trauma of a shattered soul and Erestor became terrified of what he had unwittingly done. He tried to wrap his arms tight around Pen-rhovan to hold him still.

"Legolas! What is it? Why is this such formidable news? Speak!" Erestor was beside himself to contain the wild elf's despair and calm him, for he had never intended to bring about the agony being experienced now. Legolas was far beyond the reach of such entreaties, however, and his rage and devastation boiled over as he assailed the Noldo with his fists and feet and broke free.

He sloshed across the water and disappeared into the shelter, Erestor close behind him, but when he encountered the seneschal on his way back out Legolas was dressed, armed, and had his dagger in hand. One murderous look was enough to send the Noldo backing quickly away.

In vain Erestor tried to convince him to stop and speak of the matter but Legolas merely allowed him a small glance into the depths of his tormented eyes and the seneschal was rendered paralyzed and wordless to see the despairing anguish there. Without another sound the Tawarwaith fled his violated sanctuary.

Erestor recovered himself and fairly dived into the brambles to retrieve his pack, intent on following the broken warrior and repairing the damage he had caused. Crawling inside the shelter on his hands and knees, he suddenly froze as his eyes fell upon the crushed and twisted mosses where they had enjoyed each other so fully through the night.

There upon the ground lay the braided souvenir of auburn tresses, severed from its long embrace of the wild elf's ankle.
TBC