Pen-Estel

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Ai, Legolas,” he sighed, burying his hands in Legolas’ hair and moaning languidly every time he slid deep into the youth’s mouth. It was everything he had imagined it to be, and more – Legolas was indeed eager to please now, but he was not sobbing from the force of Glorfindel’s thrusts. Instead, he was moaning too at each movement of Glorfindel inside him, each of his sounds bringing pleasure to Elrond in return

Elrond did not even think of trying to prolong this – he had been hard for such a long time now, and the last thing he wanted was to bring Legolas discomfort. “Legolas!” he cried out again, wanting to say, I love you, but not daring to. Then Legolas looked up at him and in his eyes Elrond could see that he knew. It was enough, and with a groan Elrond came, staring down in helpless fascination at the soft, red lips that would not let go of him but held him encased until Legolas had swallowed the last drop of him.

Panting, Elrond stumbled back a step when Legolas finally released him, feeling absurdly glad that he was still standing. “I…” He swallowed, staring at Legolas who looked at him with the pleased mien of a cat, heavy-lidded and languid while he slowly writhed in his Lord’s arms.

“Thank you, Legolas. That was beautiful,” he breathed, wanting to say it for Glorfindel as much as for Legolas. Legolas smiled back at him, but it was Glorfindel who answered.

“So you did please him? Very good, roch neth. All in all, you have been very pleasing today, although I do think that we will have to work on the finer points of obedience…”

“Yes, my Lord, I am sorry,” Legolas sighed and leaned back against Glorfindel’s chest, resting his head on his Lord’s shoulder and relaxing completely so that his Lord could handle him whichever way he liked.

“Maybe I will not make it a week – maybe simply another night?” Glorfindel threatened with a little growl, biting into Legolas’ shoulder to underline his words, and Legolas whimpered.

“Please, my Lord, I will be good from now on, I swear it!” Legolas sat up straight once more, moving on Glorfindel despite the tiredness that had overcome him after his release, and Elrond found himself moaning again at the picture they made. He hated himself for thinking this way, but somehow he could not deny that in a way, Glorfindel’s cruelty was the perfect accompaniment to Legolas’ sweetness.

“Ah, Elrond, I am sorry for making you wait,” Glorfindel said with a hint of laughter in his voice. “Sit down and pour yourself more wine, I will be finished with him in a moment.”

Elrond sat down again, too heavily for an elf, and he poured himself some more wine with shaking hands as he tried to tell himself that he was not obeying Glorfindel too. Through it all, he heard Legolas’ moans and promises – his heartfelt devotion – and it made him glance at them.

Without being able to help it, Elrond settled back in his seat to observe them. Effortlessly, Glorfindel drew such beautiful reactions from Legolas, and it was so enchanting to watch that Elrond forgot he was a voyeur.

Even as Legolas twisted and writhed on Glorfindel’s lap, his body made such wonderful lines that Elrond found himself unable to look away. It was like watching a dance, the way Glorfindel’s hands gripped Legolas’ hips, lifting him up and then lowering him. Such a graceful rise and fall. Legolas gasped every time, his eyes closed in pain and pleasure. He was so supple he managed to lean back against Glorfindel, curling one arm behind Glorfindel’s neck to pull his lips closer.

He knew Glorfindel was speaking to Legolas – something amounting to praise perhaps, because Legolas smiled as if he had been given a gift as Glorfindel’s lips once more touched the mark Elrond had made on that fair skin.

Elrond might not have been listening to Glorfindel’s words, but he heard Legolas’ moan as though it were directed at him, and when Legolas opened cloudy blue eyes to stare at him he nearly dropped his goblet of wine on the floor. Legolas shuddered delicately, and it wasn’t until all movement stopped that Elrond realised it was over, and Glorfindel had found release.

Belatedly, he realised he was still staring, with his mouth slightly open, and he looked down as he licked his lips.

“Perfect, roch neth,” Glorfindel said in satisfaction, his loud whisper carrying easily over the few feet to the settee where Elrond rested. He looked up again then, to find that Legolas was in his allotted place by Glorfindel’s feet, while the Lord ran a hand through the silver-gold hair possessively.

“Will you give Elrond his surprise now, roch neth? Or shall I?” Elrond narrowed his eyes in sudden suspicion, expecting Glorfindel to threaten Legolas again. The young Prince only shook his head mutely and giggled, turning his gaze on Elrond so quickly that Elrond almost jumped at the confidence he saw there. Legolas smirked then, and without his voice ever rising above a gentle sigh, he spoke.

“Did you get my note?” My note? For a moment Elrond sat still in shock and disbelief. “Surprise…” Legolas breathed, his eyes darkening slightly. Elrond was silent a moment longer, and then he laughed. Through his amusement he looked at last to Glorfindel, who gave Elrond a smile and, in turn, looked down at Legolas tenderly.

“Well – since you have kept your promises, roch neth, I shall have to reward you.” Legolas sighed dreamily and pressed against the side of Glorfindel’s knee like a pet. For a second Elrond imagined Legolas with a collar around his neck, and a chain that rested in Glorfindel’s hand. The golden-haired Lord grinned wickedly.

“How do you feel about ropes, Legolas? After all, we have Elrond here with us, and I believe he knows how to use them on you, does he not?” Legolas moaned and trembled, but Elrond could see now that the youth was not fearful at all, just newly aroused.

“Yes, my Lord,” he answered. “Please…”

“Do you want me to put them on you? Or do you want Elrond to do it?”

“Oh!” Legolas breathed, clearly surprised by the question. “I would like Lord Elrond to do it.”

Elrond swallowed, quickly taking another sip of the wine to hide his nervousness. He could not deny that simply the thought of playing with Legolas like that again was enough to arouse him once more – but there was also the question of Glorfindel. How would he take this answer? Would he see it as rejection?

“So you want me to watch you?” Glorfindel asked with a smirk, grabbing a handful of Legolas’ hair to tug his head back by it. “Do you? Tell the truth, Legolas!”

The youth moaned helplessly, his eyes half-closed, but the look he gave Elrond was full of desire, so that the Lord felt the same weakness overcome him once more, that breathless need to touch Legolas, to taste him, to make him cry out in pleasure…

“Yes! Yes, my Lord!” Legolas cried out softly, closing his eyes completely when Glorfindel’s other hand began to possessively move over his chest once more. “I want you to watch while he plays with me! I want him to deny me, to make me writhe and moan and plead, and know that it is all for your pleasure!”

Glorfindel laughed softly. “Oh, it does sound entertaining, I think I would enjoy that. But you should not just assume what our guest would want – why don’t you ask him, roch neth?”

“Please,” Legolas breathed, opening his eyes once more to look directly at Elrond. “Would you play with me like that once more, my Lord? I will do whatever you say…”

“Yes,” Elrond said, his voice hoarse so that he had to swallow again. “Yes, I would like to.” He did not dare to look at Glorfindel, even though it was he who had instigated this. Still, a part of him could not help wondering if Glorfindel was following a larger plan. After all, there was still the fact that it was he who had introduced the youth to this game, not Glorfindel… And he still did not know how Glorfindel felt about that.

Glorfindel was both possessive and arrogant, and even though they had been friends for such a long time, Elrond was well aware that he had taken things too far to still count on it. This might be a trap – a trap Legolas did not know about, Elrond was certain of that at least – but a trap nevertheless, and he knew that the right decision would be to excuse himself and leave. But he had made the mistake of looking into Legolas’ eyes, and what he saw there – the lust, the desire, the love that was still there – had already caught him in a different kind of trap, from which Elrond knew he would never escape.

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The next morning, Elrond once more waited uncomfortably at the breakfast table for Glorfindel and Legolas to show up, only this time he didn’t flee. He stayed late, and eventually he was rewarded with the sight of the two blondes walking hand-in-hand to their allotted places.

“Good morning, Lord Elrond,” said Legolas with a bright, confident smile, as if he hadn’t been begging for Elrond to allow him release just a few hours previous. Elrond muttered a greeting back, and looked carefully at Glorfindel. He noted the way Glorfindel acted with Legolas – as though he had led a lover to the table, not a slave – and suddenly it all clicked into place.

Elrond felt himself grin, relaxing at last, understanding that the games were just that – they were just games. He caught Legolas’ eye, and the youth smiled at him again. This time Elrond returned the smile as he stood up to leave the dining area and pay attention to his work. He thought he might be able to concentrate today.

He was right, and while Glorfindel and Legolas did not always invite him to share in their fun, he was around them often enough for the love that had existed between Legolas and he before to flourish once again. He doubted Glorfindel’s motives, until he had faced Glorfindel with his misgivings one day, only to receive an answer that made perfect sense, even as it puzzled him.

“Are you worried about taking liberties, Elrond? Funny, that’s exactly how he behaves afterwards. It is so very satisfying to bring him back into line. And as far as I am concerned, that is all you are there for – to take liberties. Do we understand each other?” Elrond had only nodded, aware of how deeply ingrained in domination and submission their relationship really was. Despite the games, it wasn’t like that between Legolas and him, and at last it occurred to him that Glorfindel was going to allow them to be close.

“Besides,” Glorfindel had added, leaning in so far as to almost be seductive. “Do you know how beautiful you look when you kneel before him?”

Glorfindel had left him then, and with such joy! There was no need to be alone anymore. Whatever he could have it was enough. Theirs was not the one love, or the fiery love, or the love that excluded all others. But it was equal, passionate and comforting. While it eased his loneliness, it also gave something back to Legolas, and Elrond found himself smiling happily for the rest of the day.

At first he had feared that the delicate equilibrium they appeared to maintain couldn’t last. Surely Glorfindel would become jealous? Or Legolas would become too flighty to satisfy them both? And yet it did last. For his part, as much as he loved Legolas, he didn’t require a full-time lover. If Legolas had been such he would have shunned him after only a few years – his true love was over the sea, and wouldn’t return.

Meanwhile, Legolas never came to love his equality so much that he desired for things to be different. Sometimes, Elrond knew that Legolas actually relished the way Glorfindel was with him, that he loved his submission to Glorfindel, and though it puzzled him, he couldn’t fault it, because it made the three of them very happy indeed.

As the years passed, Elrond stopped pondering the nature of their relationship, and instead he came to rely on it, taking something of comfort from Legolas’ closeness. It wasn’t unbearably lonely anymore. He wrote several books, including one just for Legolas concerning preventing pregnancy in elves. The children grew… so fast, and soon he could look out of his window and catch Legolas teaching the young Gîlríon how to hold a bow, or he might catch the sound of Gloriel singing in the corridor outside his room. It was pleasant again.

And so, because it was pleasant, and because he had learned to relax, it often came to pass that Legolas was able to surprise him…

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Elrond had been so wrapped up in his work that he had not even heard when the door to his study had been opened, and then closed and locked. But now a hand grabbed the back of his robe, and another hand pulled the freshly finished letter from him, carelessly letting it fall to the floor.

Elrond swallowed, his body already reacting to the heat of the body pressing against him from behind, the scent of sweat and the sound of fast, heavy breathing. There was truly only one who would dare to treat him so…

“My prince,” he said submissively, closing his eyes when Legolas impatiently opened his robe, only to push him forward and down so that his chest came to rest on the desk.

“Be silent, peredhel,” Legolas commanded confidently, and Elrond shuddered at his tone, and at the hardness he could feel pressing against his buttocks. His outer robe was pulled off him, and his thin under-robe simply pushed up so that he lay completely exposed to Legolas, who softly laughed when he saw that already, Elrond had hardened at what was being done to him.

“Were you waiting for me, Elrond? Dreaming of me while you wrote your tedious letters? What would Erestor say if he knew your thoughts wandered so?” he teased, quickly opening the ties of his leggings with a practised movement to release his hard shaft. A small drawer in Elrond’s desk revealed a bottle of oil, and Legolas hurriedly slathered some onto his erection, moaning in anticipation. “I’ve dreamed about you during training today – you don’t know what fighting rouses in me, how much it makes me want to take you!”

He pushed forward, relentlessly sheathing himself in Elrond’s welcoming body. “Oh Valar, Elrond!” he moaned, trembling at the tightness that gripped him, and as always it felt almost unbearably good. “I need you! Ai, you look so good, right here, like this!”

Elrond whimpered when every thrust hit the core of his body, reducing him to liquid heat. “My prince,” he heard himself moaning, pleading for more of this treatment, and Legolas sped up, taking him faster, harder, rough now. Elrond shuddered around him and forgot everything else but the desire to please Legolas, to feel him climax inside him, the youth who at this moment was his Prince in truth, ruling his mind as well as his body.

Little by little the assault slowed, and for Elrond this was just as arousing, as instead of the blunt force and domination, he felt every single inch of Legolas’ shaft inside him. Legolas took him more gently now, although still with confidence. At one point Elrond had lowered his head to the desk, and now he felt Legolas’ hand winding in his hair to pull his head back and make him look up. While Legolas had been leaning over him before, now he stood straight as if to deny Elrond of the heat of his skin.

Legolas was still playing the part of the Prince, but Elrond could feel how he trembled with desire, heard the way his breathing synchronised with the slow thrusts. All he could do was look across the room, but Elrond had never been unimaginative, and when he thought about what Legolas must be watching, the sight of it in his mind’s eye was enough to make him moan, because he could feel that slow, forceful push inside – almost painful – and he knew how it must look, and he gasped at every pulling back as Legolas’ shaft rubbed his inner walls imagining just how it would appear.

“Legolas,” he moaned uselessly, tossing his head a little as if to be free – but that wasn’t what he wanted, and they both knew it. He froze then, because he had called out Legolas’ name instead of the title he deserved.

“Yes, Elrond?” Legolas asked pleasantly, his voice deep with lust and love.

“Please, touch me,” he begged, mindful all at once of the way his own neglected member ached, and more than that, wanting to feel Legolas’ warm skin against his again. At once Legolas was leaning over him once more, the Prince’s hot breath wafting over his ear until he sighed in pleasure.

A hand reached between his legs and fingertips danced up and down over his arousal, making him writhe and beg mindlessly with his body while Legolas only chuckled into his ear, that hot breath again, sending a shiver of awareness down the length of his spine.

As if his actions were words, the fingertips became the warm grip of Legolas’ strong hand, giving him a caress that made him cry out in pleasure. He didn’t know exactly how long it carried on – no more than a few minutes – but he knew that by the time Legolas came inside him, he was desperate for release himself, and he let go with a shudder as Legolas moaned into his ear.

“How could I not dream of you, my Prince?” he asked breathlessly, the tender moment warm and precious between them. If Elrond could have held their love in his hands, it would have blinded him at that moment.

“I love you,” Legolas whispered, showing some vulnerability at last, and letting go of Elrond’s hair only to grasp hold of his hand, indicating an intimacy and a trust that had grown out of equality and respect.

“I love you, too,” Elrond returned, pulling at Legolas’ hand to kiss it, as he would a maiden. It was a strange thing to do, and they both giggled. “But I will make you pay for abusing me so later tonight… my pet.”

“Is that so?” Legolas said laughingly, and Elrond smiled when he could see the smirk without even turning around. A small kiss was placed to the nape of his neck then as Legolas withdrew from him. They both almost moaned at the loss of their closeness. “I’ll look forward to it,” he confided, leaving a flustered Elrond to try and tidy his clothing when Legolas suddenly unlocked the door and left him.