Runes of Love
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
11
Views:
4,176
Reviews:
20
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
11
Views:
4,176
Reviews:
20
Recommended:
0
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 4
Title: Runes of Love 4/?
Author: Bernsteinnixe
Email: Bernstein_nixe@yahoo.com
List: http://www.tolkiens_naughty_elves@yahoogroups.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Haldir/Thranduil
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s, not mine
Summary: Haldir is given the chance to turn his life around. When he chooses to follow his dreams he leaves behind someone dear to him.
Feedback: Absolutely necessary =P
Chapter 4
Haldir knew that his transition from courtesan to warrior would not be easy, that the other warriors-in-training would taunt him, yet it was always easier to *know* such things than to actually experience them.
At the start of his first day of training, he had been hopeful. Amazingly, there had not been any whispers or snickers behind his back, nor were any obscene comments shouted to him. But that changed when lunchtime came.
Haldir sat by himself at one end of the long table, with a few seats in between himself and the others. He had never had a friend before and, having been harassed by others all his life, did not even bother trying to befriend anyone or find acceptance—all he wanted was to be left alone. His head down and focused on stirring the soup in his bowl, Haldir hoped not to draw any attention to himself.
No such luck.
“King Thranduil became bored with you rather quickly,” one Elf called out to him. “He usually keeps his whores for at least a few years, before getting rid of them.”
“Aye, you must not be a very pleasing lover,” offered another.
Haldir’s chewing slowed, a lump forming in his throat as he choked back tears. He refused to answer them and kept his eyes on his food, pretending he did not hear their insults. Yet, every word stung his heart.
“Do not worry,” said a green-eyed Elf with golden hair, who reminded him of Thranduil. “Your beauty makes up for any lack of talent. If you get lonely, come and spread your legs for me. I will do the rest.”
The group roared with laughter. A pitiful sob welled up inside him, threatening to wrack his body with uncontrollable spasms. Haldir resisted the urge to run home and bury his face in a pillow. I must be strong, he thought. I cannot let them ruin this for me.
Fortunately, the commotion drew the attention of one of the trainers who immediately scolded the misbehaved group. They left him in peace for the rest of the lunch break and, with a few deep breaths, Haldir calmed down enough not to cry.
As everyone began to leave, one of the Elves came up behind Haldir and, laying his hands on his shoulders, whispered something in Haldir’s ear. It was Lúthaon, the Elf who had offered to cure his loneliness. What he told him were the directions to his home. Haldir made a sound of irritation, yet he could not help but let his eyes follow the blonde Elf…. he even walked like Thranduil.
That was how things continued for the next few days. Whenever the trainers were out of sight, the future warriors tormented their victim ruthlessly—but Haldir would not let them ruin him. His adamant determination to achieve his lifelong dream, and the incessant support of his brothers, gave him the strength he needed to keep moving forward on the path of the warrior.
The other Elves did not cause him sorrow for much longer, though. Haldir was an exceptionally gifted archer and swordsman. Within only a few short weeks his skills surpassed those of others who had been training for months. Soon their disdain for Haldir grew into a kind of respect and admiration, which led them to cease their tormenting altogether.
Thus weeks went by, but instead of enjoying his new life, Haldir felt worse and worse. Every night, he would weep and rock himself to sleep—if he could fall asleep at all, that is. Deep inside he knew what the problem was, but he was too ashamed to come to terms with it. What he wanted to think was that it was his longing for Thranduil brought about his current emotional state. But, although he *did* miss the one he loved, the sad truth was that his previous way of life had had a long-term, perhaps irreversible, effect on him.
For the past ten years he had served as a bedmate, a toy, for the pleasure of others. He was too young, too impressionable, when he first gave in to prostitution. The effects had never been as noticeable as they were now.
For twenty-six nights since he left the king’s halls, he had slept alone in his bed, never feeling the heat of another body against his. He used to dream of such freedom, but now that he had it, he felt so cold and alone and… useless. He knew that none of those Elves who had taken him in the past had actually cared for him, yet he needed them. He needed someone to offer himself to, someone to thoughtlessly take from him that which should only be given to a lover. Simply put, he needed to get fucked.
Haldir groaned and turned in his bed as he considered his options. He *could* just ignore this shameful need and hope that eventually he would heal and it would go away. But, the question was how long would he have to endure this misery? Then there was the other option—to let someone bed him, although he knew that unless that someone was Thranduil, to whom he would not dare go, he would be even more miserable afterwards.
The first option was what Haldir would rather have chosen. Yet, when an hour passed by and he had still been unable to fall asleep, he began to think that, perhaps, short-term relief may be the better alternative. It was already too to go bed-hopping, though, so he would have to wait until the next evening.
*
Haldir peered inside his brothers’ room, making sure they were asleep. If Rumil saw or heard his older brother leaving their home this late he would know what he was up to—Haldir definitely did not want that. Much to his relief, both his brothers were in a state of peaceful slumber. Apparently, Orophin had climbed into Rumil’s bed and was huddled up against the older Elf. Haldir smiled at the picture of such innocence and serenity.
Internally, he scolded himself for doing what he was about to do. It was not fair to him or to the one whom he loved, even if Thranduil did not return his affections. Still, he continued on his way, with footsteps not his own.
“Haldir!” Lúthaon tone revealed his surprise at seeing Haldir at his door. “What brings you to my step?” Haldir stared at his own shifting feet as he answered. “I was feeling lonely…” He had expected to see an arrogant smirk, or at least a satisfied grin when he looked up, but Lúthaon showed nothing of the sort. His expression remained kind and sympathetic.
“Come in.”
Lúthaon’s home was modest even by Haldir’s standards, consisting of only of one room, which also served as the bedroom and kitchen, and a small bathroom. The only furniture was a bed and a small table with two chairs. The place reminded Haldir of his old house, where he and his brothers had lived before he began his services at the king’s court.
“I know, ‘tis not much,” said Lúthaon when he saw Haldir’s eyes wander the room, “but one day I will be able to afford something better.” He gestured for Haldir to sit on one of the wooden chairs.
“I hope I am not disturbing you,” Haldir said, changing the subject.
“You are not.” Lúthaon picked up a kettle of boiling water and poured some into a cup. “I was just making myself some tea before going to bed. Would you like some?”
“Aye.”
Haldir watched as the golden Elf’s behind as he placed some herbs into the cup and poured the mixture over with water.
“Hannon lle,” he said when Lúthaon placed his tea, as well as some cinnamon cookies on the table.
“So how are you enjoying the training thus far?” Lúthaon asked as he took his seat opposite Haldir. “I must admit, none of us thought that you could handle a weapon so well.”
Haldir was not sure whether he should consider that statement a compliment or something else.
“I mean no offense,” Lúthaon added, noting the confusion written upon Haldir’s face.
“I have spent almost every spare moment of my time practicing,” said Haldir, trying to warm up to the conversation, which came as somewhat of a surprise to him.
As they continued to talk, Haldir realized that his fellow warrior was not nearly as haughty or shallow as he expected. In fact, he felt that he himself was the shallow one because the conversation did not interest him nearly as much as that for which he had come.
When there was a brief period of silence, Haldir took the opportunity to address the issue at hand. “I thought we would…”
It took Lúthaon a second to understand what Haldir meant, but when he did, a veil a disappointment was drawn over his face. “Oh…,” he said. “Is that why you came?”
“To be truthful? Aye.”
“When I said that,” Lúthaon began to explain, “I did not mean it. I was just trying to fit in…”
“You do not want me?” Haldir said, sounding hurt.
“Haldir, I do not think that there is an Elf on Arda who does not want you.”
“Then give me what I need. Saes.”
Tbc….
Elvish:
Hannon lle – thank you
Saes- please
Author: Bernsteinnixe
Email: Bernstein_nixe@yahoo.com
List: http://www.tolkiens_naughty_elves@yahoogroups.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Haldir/Thranduil
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s, not mine
Summary: Haldir is given the chance to turn his life around. When he chooses to follow his dreams he leaves behind someone dear to him.
Feedback: Absolutely necessary =P
Chapter 4
Haldir knew that his transition from courtesan to warrior would not be easy, that the other warriors-in-training would taunt him, yet it was always easier to *know* such things than to actually experience them.
At the start of his first day of training, he had been hopeful. Amazingly, there had not been any whispers or snickers behind his back, nor were any obscene comments shouted to him. But that changed when lunchtime came.
Haldir sat by himself at one end of the long table, with a few seats in between himself and the others. He had never had a friend before and, having been harassed by others all his life, did not even bother trying to befriend anyone or find acceptance—all he wanted was to be left alone. His head down and focused on stirring the soup in his bowl, Haldir hoped not to draw any attention to himself.
No such luck.
“King Thranduil became bored with you rather quickly,” one Elf called out to him. “He usually keeps his whores for at least a few years, before getting rid of them.”
“Aye, you must not be a very pleasing lover,” offered another.
Haldir’s chewing slowed, a lump forming in his throat as he choked back tears. He refused to answer them and kept his eyes on his food, pretending he did not hear their insults. Yet, every word stung his heart.
“Do not worry,” said a green-eyed Elf with golden hair, who reminded him of Thranduil. “Your beauty makes up for any lack of talent. If you get lonely, come and spread your legs for me. I will do the rest.”
The group roared with laughter. A pitiful sob welled up inside him, threatening to wrack his body with uncontrollable spasms. Haldir resisted the urge to run home and bury his face in a pillow. I must be strong, he thought. I cannot let them ruin this for me.
Fortunately, the commotion drew the attention of one of the trainers who immediately scolded the misbehaved group. They left him in peace for the rest of the lunch break and, with a few deep breaths, Haldir calmed down enough not to cry.
As everyone began to leave, one of the Elves came up behind Haldir and, laying his hands on his shoulders, whispered something in Haldir’s ear. It was Lúthaon, the Elf who had offered to cure his loneliness. What he told him were the directions to his home. Haldir made a sound of irritation, yet he could not help but let his eyes follow the blonde Elf…. he even walked like Thranduil.
That was how things continued for the next few days. Whenever the trainers were out of sight, the future warriors tormented their victim ruthlessly—but Haldir would not let them ruin him. His adamant determination to achieve his lifelong dream, and the incessant support of his brothers, gave him the strength he needed to keep moving forward on the path of the warrior.
The other Elves did not cause him sorrow for much longer, though. Haldir was an exceptionally gifted archer and swordsman. Within only a few short weeks his skills surpassed those of others who had been training for months. Soon their disdain for Haldir grew into a kind of respect and admiration, which led them to cease their tormenting altogether.
Thus weeks went by, but instead of enjoying his new life, Haldir felt worse and worse. Every night, he would weep and rock himself to sleep—if he could fall asleep at all, that is. Deep inside he knew what the problem was, but he was too ashamed to come to terms with it. What he wanted to think was that it was his longing for Thranduil brought about his current emotional state. But, although he *did* miss the one he loved, the sad truth was that his previous way of life had had a long-term, perhaps irreversible, effect on him.
For the past ten years he had served as a bedmate, a toy, for the pleasure of others. He was too young, too impressionable, when he first gave in to prostitution. The effects had never been as noticeable as they were now.
For twenty-six nights since he left the king’s halls, he had slept alone in his bed, never feeling the heat of another body against his. He used to dream of such freedom, but now that he had it, he felt so cold and alone and… useless. He knew that none of those Elves who had taken him in the past had actually cared for him, yet he needed them. He needed someone to offer himself to, someone to thoughtlessly take from him that which should only be given to a lover. Simply put, he needed to get fucked.
Haldir groaned and turned in his bed as he considered his options. He *could* just ignore this shameful need and hope that eventually he would heal and it would go away. But, the question was how long would he have to endure this misery? Then there was the other option—to let someone bed him, although he knew that unless that someone was Thranduil, to whom he would not dare go, he would be even more miserable afterwards.
The first option was what Haldir would rather have chosen. Yet, when an hour passed by and he had still been unable to fall asleep, he began to think that, perhaps, short-term relief may be the better alternative. It was already too to go bed-hopping, though, so he would have to wait until the next evening.
*
Haldir peered inside his brothers’ room, making sure they were asleep. If Rumil saw or heard his older brother leaving their home this late he would know what he was up to—Haldir definitely did not want that. Much to his relief, both his brothers were in a state of peaceful slumber. Apparently, Orophin had climbed into Rumil’s bed and was huddled up against the older Elf. Haldir smiled at the picture of such innocence and serenity.
Internally, he scolded himself for doing what he was about to do. It was not fair to him or to the one whom he loved, even if Thranduil did not return his affections. Still, he continued on his way, with footsteps not his own.
“Haldir!” Lúthaon tone revealed his surprise at seeing Haldir at his door. “What brings you to my step?” Haldir stared at his own shifting feet as he answered. “I was feeling lonely…” He had expected to see an arrogant smirk, or at least a satisfied grin when he looked up, but Lúthaon showed nothing of the sort. His expression remained kind and sympathetic.
“Come in.”
Lúthaon’s home was modest even by Haldir’s standards, consisting of only of one room, which also served as the bedroom and kitchen, and a small bathroom. The only furniture was a bed and a small table with two chairs. The place reminded Haldir of his old house, where he and his brothers had lived before he began his services at the king’s court.
“I know, ‘tis not much,” said Lúthaon when he saw Haldir’s eyes wander the room, “but one day I will be able to afford something better.” He gestured for Haldir to sit on one of the wooden chairs.
“I hope I am not disturbing you,” Haldir said, changing the subject.
“You are not.” Lúthaon picked up a kettle of boiling water and poured some into a cup. “I was just making myself some tea before going to bed. Would you like some?”
“Aye.”
Haldir watched as the golden Elf’s behind as he placed some herbs into the cup and poured the mixture over with water.
“Hannon lle,” he said when Lúthaon placed his tea, as well as some cinnamon cookies on the table.
“So how are you enjoying the training thus far?” Lúthaon asked as he took his seat opposite Haldir. “I must admit, none of us thought that you could handle a weapon so well.”
Haldir was not sure whether he should consider that statement a compliment or something else.
“I mean no offense,” Lúthaon added, noting the confusion written upon Haldir’s face.
“I have spent almost every spare moment of my time practicing,” said Haldir, trying to warm up to the conversation, which came as somewhat of a surprise to him.
As they continued to talk, Haldir realized that his fellow warrior was not nearly as haughty or shallow as he expected. In fact, he felt that he himself was the shallow one because the conversation did not interest him nearly as much as that for which he had come.
When there was a brief period of silence, Haldir took the opportunity to address the issue at hand. “I thought we would…”
It took Lúthaon a second to understand what Haldir meant, but when he did, a veil a disappointment was drawn over his face. “Oh…,” he said. “Is that why you came?”
“To be truthful? Aye.”
“When I said that,” Lúthaon began to explain, “I did not mean it. I was just trying to fit in…”
“You do not want me?” Haldir said, sounding hurt.
“Haldir, I do not think that there is an Elf on Arda who does not want you.”
“Then give me what I need. Saes.”
Tbc….
Elvish:
Hannon lle – thank you
Saes- please