Cuil Eden

Betaed by Calenharn Elflover, thanks so much for your hard work! :)


31

During the walk back to their talan, Legolas was mostly silent, trying to will away his erection without much success, as the arm that was wrapped around his waist as well as the soft, dark voice of his lord kept him aroused despite himself. Never had he been more grateful for the new clothes that he had been given, as the long tunic of heavy brocade hid his current state from the eyes of the Silvan elves they passed on their way.

It was only when they finally reached their destination that he realized that this particular trial would not be over so soon. The two guards were sitting on the floor of their talan, and Legolas tried to pull down the hemline of his tunic even more. Yet it seemed that at least for the moment, he was safe from this particular embarrassment. The two Noldor were completely focused on their young charge, who seemed to have forgotten about their earlier troubles as he squealed in delight at Fairion’s antics.

Legolas smiled in relief at seeing him so happy, and then moved on to their bedroom to change into more formal clothes for the meal at the royal table, while Glorfindel went to the bathroom to quickly clean himself. They did not have much time before they were expected, and so it was well that Glorfindel's warriors had managed to distract their son, as there was no time to reassure him or answer his questions now.

In their bedroom, Legolas pulled the tunic over his head and stared at his reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall. The slight curve at the front of his leggings made it very obvious that he was still aroused, and he groaned at the dampness he felt when he pressed his fingers against it to alleviate the ache of his demanding flesh. He could not appear this way in front of the Lady – he would have to change into another pair of leggings, and somehow control himself so that that pair would not be ruined as well.

With a sigh he stripped and rummaged through the chest they had brought, taking out a pair of light grey leggings and a white tunic that was embroidered with silver threads and small, glistening pearls. After another critical look into the mirror he undid the slender braids of youth that he was now permitted to wear. While Glorfindel still preferred to see him with his hair loose, that informality was now mostly reserved for the privacy of their rooms. He then took Glorfindel’s golden brush, blushing slightly at the memories this tool held for him, and quickly brushed his hair until it fell silky and straight down his back once more. After a moment’s hesitation, he gathered some strands and braided them in the fashion of the royal line of Mirkwood before he took his leggings from the bed to slip into them.

Glorfindel chose that exact moment to enter the bedroom, laughing softly when his eyes fell on Legolas’ still half-hard shaft.

“Ah, hungry for me... I like that!” he purred as he stepped up to the still naked youth to pull him against his chest, cradling his genitals in his palm. Legolas groaned softly and leaned against him, his breath coming faster as he was touched so intimately.

“Ai... Please, do not,” he moaned softly. “I will come if you touch me, my lord!”

Glorfindel chuckled and pressed a teasing kiss to the tip of Legolas’ ear. “No, you will not come – and do you know why that is?”

“Because you like to torment me,” Legolas groaned miserably. Glorfindel chuckled again and gently bit the ear. He then sucked on it until he felt the Sinda’s length hardening even more.

“What would you like, Legolas?” he then whispered gently into his ear. “Tell me – what would you like me to do to you right now?”

“Ai... do not tease me, my lord!” Legolas’ cheeks reddened as he rested helplessly against Glorfindel’s chest.

“Tell me, Legolas. Tell me, and if you are good, then later I might make your wish come true. " Glorfindel continued to breathe into Legolas’ ear, smiling knowingly when the youth closed his eyes and let out a trembling moan.

“I – I would like to sit on your lap, having you take me like that... with me moving on you,” Legolas admitted, flushed and fully aroused now as he trembled in Glorfindel’s arms.

“Ahh, yes... riding me. I think I will like that, watching you impale yourself on me for your own pleasure...” Glorfindel laughed and let go of Legolas, watching with amusement the disappointment that settled on Legolas’ face. “But that will come later, if you are good. Go dress now while I look after Gîl, and do not forget that you will feel no pleasure but by my hands... or", he lowered his voice with a wicked grin, "by my cock."

Legolas groaned in frustration at being left hard and wanting once again. How was he supposed to appear before the Lord and Lady like this? But he had sworn to obey, and so resigning himself to long hours of unfulfilled desire, he meekly replied, "Yes, my lord."

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By the time they had reached the royal talan, Legolas was no longer in any danger of embarrassing himself. His feeling of dread at the thought of meeting his brother again was more than adequate to quash his desire.

When they entered the dining room, Galuron was already seated at the table, next to several Lothlórien nobles whom, by the stately robes they were wearing, Legolas took to be advisors. Ellonúr had also been invited, but upon their entry he turned to the Lórien diplomat seated beside him, and immediately struck up a conversation.

The Lord and Lady were seated as well, and Legolas found himself answering Celeborn’s smile as he remembered their conversation. He was not quite certain what the Lady thought of this side of her mate, but Legolas found himself strangely reassured when he thought of the Lord’s kind words.

Their own seats awaited them next to the Lord and Lady, and Legolas was glad of Glorfindel’s powerful presence next to him when he realized that he sat directly across from his older brother. Galuron’s jaw had clenched and his eyes had narrowed when Legolas sat down, and for a moment rage alighted in them – a rage so deep that Legolas flinched and lowered his eyes, disturbed by the depth of the dark emotion that greeted him.

It took a moment for Legolas to realize just why his brother had been so deeply affected by seeing him again. Apparently Galuron had been outraged by the display of the royal insignia, the elaborate braids that fell from Legolas’ temples and signified him as a member of the ruling house of Mirkwood. They were the same braids that Galuron himself was wearing, and for a moment Legolas faltered when he realized how similar they now looked – two princes of the Woodland Realm, arrayed in rich garments and wearing the royal braids.

Legolas could not help but remember the day his father had exiled him. What would happen if his father could see him now? Would he see him as a traitor - with his treason magnified by his flaunting of the royal braids? Would he truly take his sword to slay his youngest child as he had once threatened?

Legolas straightened, and while he did not meet his brother’s gaze again, he held himself proudly upright, his stance an obvious answer to Galuron’s indignation as he refused to be cowed. He would no longer torment himself with these questions – and he would not allow his brother to do so, either.

Perhaps it was Glorfindel’s earlier threat, or perhaps Galuron’s late-found sense of decorum, but after his initial angry reaction, the prince pretended that Legolas did not exist. Legolas was glad of it, and focused his attention on his son.

After a furtive glance at Galuron, Gîlríon had quickly been diverted by the colorful dishes, many of them exotic for a child that had spent all of his short life at the haven of Imladris. While Elrond’s table could boast of a variety of dishes influenced by the many kindreds of elves that had taken refuge there an age ago, Lórien’s fare was vastly influenced by its Lady, whose palate still remembered feasts in the Blessed Realm.

Excited by all that was new to him, Gîlríon demanded to know both the name and the ingredients of every of the exotic dishes, and when Legolas had to admit in embarrassment that the served victuals were unfamiliar to him as well, Celeborn immediately took over, satisfying the child’s curiosity by naming every dish before him.

This way, the meal passed mostly uneventfully. It was only when dessert was served that things began to heat up again. After Celeborn had patiently explained about Lothlórien’s culinary specialties, Gîlríon had begun to tell the Lord in his high, excited voice about how he had met his tôr adar this morning, and at that reminder Glorfindel gave Galuron an angry look. Legolas had frozen, uncertain if he should intervene, but before he could stop his son, Gîlríon was recounting the strange events that had made him feel confused and upset.

“And then,” the child said anxiously, turning from Celeborn to Glorfindel, “then tôr adaren made ada cry. Why was he so mean to him, atto? And what is a whore?”

Someone gasped loudly, while the rest of the gathered elves fell into a shocked silence at Gîlríon’s question.

Legolas sat frozen at the table, pale as freshly fallen snow, and did not dare to raise his eyes from where they rested now on his plate. His fingers were clenched so tightly around the cutlery that they trembled, and he knew that if he heard even one word of gloating from his brother, he would leap at him - leap at him, and drive the sharp knife into his hateful heart.

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tôr adar - father’s brother
atto – affectionate form of "father" [Quenya]
ada – affectionate form of "father" [Sindarin]