Release From Lies

Title: Release from Lies
Author: Noelwing
Email: noelwing@aol.com
Disclaimer: Middle-earth and all characters within are the property of JRR. Tolkien. Any original characters are property of the author.
Pairings: Legolas/Glorfindel Legolas/Haldir Lindir/Figwit
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU
Summary: After escaping from a life in captivity, Lindir and Figwit are free to explore their new lives and their feelings for each other.
Warnings: This story will contain rape in later chapters as well as abuse and torture.
Author’s notes: I apologize for the incredibly long delay in between chapters. I have got to tell you that working nights is not conducive to a creative mind. I hope you enjoy this latest installment and I thank you for your patience.
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Release from Lies: Part Four
Lindir’s Story

“Wonderful, now I’m lost.” Lindir mumbled to himself feeling like a complete fool. The Mirkwood palace seemed nothing but a maze of corridors and chambers and he was wandering within them. When Lindir had awakened, he found that Figwit had left their room. Lindir had no real desire to leave the safety of the room but without Figwit, he felt nervous being alone.

Now thanks to his anxiety, Lindir found himself wandering the halls of an unfamiliar place. The sound of approaching footsteps put Lindir on the alert; someone was coming. Not wanting to be discovered, Lindir dashed into the first door that he saw and waited for the stranger to pass.

Only when the stranger passed on did Lindir examine the room he had blundered into. The room was large and spacious and light poured in from the alcove windows the lined the wall opposite to him. There were several drums, flutes and other musical instruments on shelves or supported on stands. Clearly this was a music room.

Lindir followed a shaft of light that led directly to a lap harp sitting all by itself on a small table. Lindir approached the harp in complete awe of it. The harp had sixteen strings and the cherry wood was embellished with vine patterns typical of elven art. If one were to see Lindir as he was at that moment, one might think that he was staring at a long lost friend. Perhaps Lindir was looking at a long lost friend and his heart kindled long forgotten memories when his fingers were practically married to the strings of a harp

For as long as Lindir could remember, he had been a slave. As far as he knew, his parents had always been slaves too. When the time arrived for him to go to a master, his mother had only told him to be obedient. That was all Lindir could really remember of her and this was the first time in centuries that he had even thought of her.

Her insistence on obedience was what he had held onto when he sold when he was still just a child. But he had never felt sorry for himself. Because he had always had the music of the harp he played and the songs he learned to sing to comfort him in a time when, for him, life had not become such a void.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~



“Is this the one you wanted me to see, Gilrain?” Gwindor said to the slave trader. At Gilrain’s side stood a petit elfling who, when coached by Gilrain, stepped forward and bowed respectfully to Gwindor.

Gwindor leaned over to inspect the youth. The child had fine white hair and captivating blue eyes and sported a healthy, albeit still child like, frame. “You were right Gilrain; this one is indeed a beauty. I take it his parents are as well.”

“Yes Gwindor, Lindir here is well bred indeed. His parents are the finest pair I won. I imagine once Lindir is full grown his body and fine features will fetch you well beyond the price I am asking for him.” Gilrain’s voice was prideful but insistent. Gwindor was well aware that Gilrain was anxious to make this sale.

“Easy there Gilrain. The upbringing and training of any servant is an investment in both years and money. I won’t take any pupil slave unless I am sure I will get a return on my investment.”

“Gwindor, I assure you that I am offering you no less than what you expect in your business.” Gilrain implored. “When I noticed how beautiful Lindir was becoming I knew right away that if anyone could make the most of his potential, it would be you Gwindor.”

Gwindor’s business was that of training and selling servant elves in to the service of the noble ranks. His reputation for producing servants that were talented as well as obedient was one of the highest. After a few more moments of haggling, Gwindor and Gilrain were able to decide on a price. Gwindor even commented that he believed Gilrain was making him a generous deal. Gilrain countered by saying that his real reward would be having his name mentioned when nobles enquired as to whom Gwindor had acquired such a fine pupil.

Lindir stood by and watched as a contract was written and then signed. Now that Lindir knew he had been sold, the reality that he would never see his parents again wad setting in. Lindir did not yet understand everything but he did understand that Gwindor, for the time being, was his master. Gwindor’s foreign origins were never known to Lindir. Gwindor possessed red hair and green eyes; not uncommon among elves in general but unusual for those who dwelled in Rivendell.

Nothing was done that day giving Lindir time to adjust to his new living arrangements. He had his own bed to sleep in and his own room to occupy. But his first night was spent crying. Gwindor explained to him that he was very fortunate. Lindir would spend the next several years of his life being groomed by Gwindor to be a slave whose services were strictly reserved for the noble classes. He should have been happy but he was not. Instead of pride, he felt incredibly empty.

Over the next several weeks, Lindir fell into the routine of studying, reading, writing and working at whatever tasks were put before him. Gwindor often complimented him and told him what a valuable servant he would make someday.

Lindir did indeed feel fortunate to be learning such skills. Of all his various lessons, his favorite were his music lessons and his instrument of choice was the harp. He could play for hours and lose himself within the melodies that his fingers produced as they danced over the strings.

Eventually, he received a harp of his very own to play whenever he wished. Such a gift was more precious to him than all the riches of the world. To Lindir, the harp was more than just an instrument it was a friend for him.

Sheltered as he was, Lindir was still aware of his station as well as those of the other slaves in Rivendell. Elves captured in the wild were subjected to cruel tortures until broken down into obedience. Lindir could never understand why those elves were treated that way. He was a slave yet no one had ever once laid a hand to him.

“Gwindor,” Lindir once asked, “Why is that slaves captured from the wandering clans are treated so harshly and slaves like me are not?”

At this, Gwindor took on a dark, uncharacteristic tone. “Because they are too foolish to accept that we are above them. We thrive in civilization while they merely survive in the wild wallowing in ignorance. They should be grateful that we take pity and them by making them our servants.

“But you are better than they are Lindir because you know and accept your place. Trust me Lindir, if you are well behaved and do all that your master asks of you then you never need fear a hand being raised to you.”

Lindir thought on Gwindor’s words and perhaps they made some sense. But Lindir still pitied the slaves who were treated so terribly. Their plight was like an eerie shadow in the back of his mind. But at least he had his harp to drive those shadows away. Lindir dreamed of playing in lavish halls before a captive audience and even of a lover waiting in the wings.

Lindir knew of love for he had read many fairytales (when no one was watching of course) where love was carried through the words and actions of the stories characters. Lindir wondered just what kind of lover waited to applaud him at the end of his recitals. Would his lover be like one of those dashing knights who braved many perils or would his lover be like one of those courageous maidens who could outwit any villain or solve any riddle.

Whoever the lover, Lindir always fancied that at the sound of his melody, that lover’s heart would melt and no trial, challenge or riddle would keep them from listening to his song. But Lindir never revealed these fancies. Gwindor would scold him for wasting time on such imaginings. But even so, Lindir felt lonely not being able to share his hopes and thoughts with another. That was until he met Aron.

Aron entered Lindir’s life very abruptly. Like himself, Aron was born to be in service to the privileged classes. But unlike Lindir, Aron already had a master. That master was Prince Elladan, eldest son of Elrond, the master of Rivendell.

Apparently, as a favor to Elladan, Gwindor agreed to take Aron under his wing for a while until Elladan returned from some kind of political mission. The first night Aron spent in Gwindor’s keeping was in a room by him self. What Lindir found disturbing was that Aron’s door was kept locked.

When Lindir asked as to why Aron had to be locked in his room Gwindor cautioned him. “This situation is a bit different,” he said. “Lord Elladan described Aron as a bit rough and hard to handle. This is just for safety’s sake until I know more about his behavior.”

It was another day or two before Aron and Lindir shared their first lesson together. Lindir expected to see Aron display the behavior that warranted the locking of his door at night but it never happened. Aron was not defiant at all and seemed eager to learn how to better please a master. By the end of the day the only thing Lindir was sure of was that he now had a companion.

Aron and Lindir made the most of their time together. They talked and laughed together and Lindir found that he was not so lonely any more. Lindir even confided his fancies of playing in recital halls where a lover waited for him somewhere in the crowd.

“I envy you Lindir for I wish I could look on life with such hope as well.” Aron began to cry and recoil on himself.

“I do not understand, you have a master and you eagerly pay attention to the lessons Gwindor teaches you. I see no reason why Lord Elladan should be displeased with you.”

Aron sobbed all the more. “I do not know what it is I do that is wrong. No matter how hard I try Lord Elladan is always angry with me. Nothing I do pleases him.

“The only real use he has for me is so that he might have something to unleash his frustrations upon. Afterwards I hurt so much and I want to die.”

Lindir wanted to reach for Aron, to pull the crying elf into his arms and to comfort him. But before he could move, Gwindor came into the room and ordered them to bed. That night Lindir lay awake. He thought about Aron and ways he might be able to help the poor elf.

But any ideas that Lindir came up with would never be. The next morning, Elladan returned and Aron was sent back to him. It all happened so fast that Lindir did not even have a chance to say good bye to the first person he called ‘friend’.

That was not the last time Lindir and Aron would ever see each other. Occasionally, Lindir spotted Aron on the grounds. Those were the only times Lindir ever saw Aron with Elladan, his master. Lindir noticed the way Aron carried himself when he was with his master. Aron let his head hang and he looked tense, even afraid.

Lindir wasted no time going to Gwindor and asking why Aron was not treated better. “Aron wants to please Elladan, he told me so himself. Why then must Elladan hurt him so?”

“You do not know that for certain. Aron may have said that he does no wrong but only his master can determine if his actions and behaviors are appropriate.”

“But I am afraid for Aron. Can you not ask Lord Elladan to entrust Aron to your care once more. Perhaps if he began lessons again he would learn to serve Elladan better.”

Gwindor halted Lindir right there and warned him not to be so out spoken. There was nothing any one could do for Aron and he advised Lindir to put it out of his mind. He should only be concentrating on his own tasks.

As always, Lindir wanted to obey Gwindor but he could not put Aron out of his mind. A dark feeling began to grow in the back of Lindir’s mind, something terrible was about to happen, he could feel it. Lindir’s days were filled with worry and his nights were plagued by nightmares. In these nightmares, Lindir watched as Aron was being hurt by Elladan. And always, Lindir awoke crying.

Lindir kept these dreams and troubled thoughts to himself though Gwindor could tell that something was bothering Lindir. He was slipping in his studies and his harp play and singing was not as smooth as they used to be. Gwindor never had to call his student back to attention before but now he had to use the threat of punishment as a means of keeping Lindir on task.

One morning, either out of concern or insanity, Lindir decided to sneak out of Gwindor’s chambers. He knew that leaving Gwindor’s chambers without permission was punishable by whipping. But at this point Lindir was so worried for Aron that he did not much care. He needed to know if Aron was alright.

He couldn’t leave via the front door so Lindir crawled out the window instead. This was the first time he had ever been outside of Gwindor’s chambers alone. He felt both nervous and excited at the same time. This was the first time he had ever made a decision on his own and that gave him the courage to seek Aron.

With every step closer to lord Elladan’s chamber, Lindir’s heart beat a little faster. He felt weak in the knees but he kept going. Finding Aron was the only thing that mattered to him.

A small crowd was gathered outside of Lord Elladan’s chambers. Lindir ceased his approach and pressed up against the wall. The only elf he recognized for sure was Lord Elladan. He was leaning up against the wall just outside his door while being spoken to by another elf. The elf speaking looked very similar to Elladan but older and far more regal in appearance.

The regal elf looked angry but Elladan seemed unimpressed by the words that were being spoken to him. Standing to the side of Elladan was another elf. Tall and blond this one was. He was dressed in equally fine garments as the others; obviously he too was a part of the nobility of the house. The blond elf, however, did not seem as upset as his dark haired counter part who continued to chastise Elladan.

Linder grunted, how was he supposed to get into the chambers with all those elves blocking the door. Surely Gwindor would know that he was missing by now and it would not be long before his teacher came seeking him. He had to see Aron but couldn’t wait for all those elves to go away either.

Then, unexpectedly, two other elves emerged from Elladan’s chambers. Together, they carried a stretcher, the silhouette of a body concealed by a blanket clearly visible. The irate, dark haired elf bade the two carries to place the stretcher down on the ground and they did so. Lindir could not draw breath as the sheet was pulled back to reveal Aron’s beaten and apparently lifeless body.

As if the distressed cry wasn’t enough to startle everyone then the elf that appeared out of no where was. He threw himself to the floor and cradled the body that lay on the stretcher. “Aron…Aron…” he cried again and again but he would never be answered.

Tears poured out of Lindir’s eyes like never before and they landed on Aron’s bruised face. His left eye was swollen shut and his face colored by blood and multiple bruises. What could Aron have done to have deserved this?

“I’m sorry little one but that will do no good,” Said the dark haired elf that had been scolding Elladan. Lindir did not acknowledge him.

“Lord Elrond, I do not think he is listening to you,” Said the golden haired elf.

“If you have a better way of trying to calm him Glorfindel then be my guest.” Elrond retorted.

Lindir could feel the hands on his back that were trying to soothe him. For a moment, Lindir fancied this all a bad dream. The touch he felt was Gwindor attempting to wake him from a nightmare and when he opened his eyes, it would be the start of a day filled with lessons that he would share with Aron. But when Lindir opened his eyes, the sight of Aron’s beaten face was still before him; this reality was far worse than any nightmare.

No one moved nor said a word as the scene before them unfolded. The little elf rested his head upon the corpse of Elladan’s slave and wept.

Elrond turned his attentions back to his son. “I want you to tell me now exactly everything that resulted in this death. Tell me Elladan how did Aron die?”

Elladan crossed his arms and huffed. It was a combination of gestures that incensed his father all the more. “There is nothing to tell other than he deserved it.”

Elrond’s brow furrowed. “Tell me what one could do to possibly deserve this?”

“I had told you that Aron was defiant, near uncontrollable. I tried time and again to tame him but he would not relent.”

Lindir listened as Elladan spoke. Aron, defiant, that was a lie. Looking at Aron’s face, so disfigured from multiple blows, made those untrue words stab Lindir like a thousand knives.

“Any violence I had to bestow upon my slave he brought upon himself!”

‘LIAR!” Lindir screamed. He leapt from the ground and threw himself at Elladan. Possessed by emotions the likes of which he had never felt, he attacked, biting, clawing and cursing Elladan with every evil fate he could think of.

“Glorfindel restrain him!” Elrond commanded. He too, was struggling to get the still unnamed elf away from his son.

Solid strength surrounded Lindir by the waist and pulled him away from Elladan. No, it wasn’t enough; he was not through with Elladan yet. He wanted to inflict more harm with his hands but he had been pulled away; Elladan was now out of his reach. But Lindir still had his words.

“You will pay for this, mark my words Elladan I will make you pay!”

The little one’s voice echoed through the hall leaving all who were present dumbstruck. If Elladan put any weight within the little one’s words, he did not show it.

“We’ll see who gets who,” Elladan said in a snide manner before he let his father take him away for treatment.

Lindir went limp in Glorfindel’s arms. He had no more fight left in him but he continued to cry. From that day forward, his last memory of Aron would be of his body being covered by Elrond’s aids and carried away. It would never be made known to Lindir what became of his body.

Glorfindel felt the little one go limp in his arms but that was hardly the problem. He had no idea who he was or where he belonged. “Well it would appear that it shall be you and I for a while.” Glorfindel heaved the little one into his arms and carried him off.

He could tell by the young one’s clothes that he was definitely of the slave class though he could not find a band or the crest of an owner anywhere. So the task at hand was to try and find Lindir’s keeper.

As it turned out, Glorfindel did not need to expend much effort, for the slave’s keeper found him.

“Lindir!” Gwindor called.

Glorfindel walked casually as Gwindor ran towards him.

“Lost this I see.” Glorfindel held Lindir out in front of him.

“Yes my lord Glorfindel, apparently I did.”

At hearing his keeper’s voice, Lindir came back to reason and jumped out of Glorfindel’s arms. He went straight to Gwindor and broke out into near indecipherable drivel that seemed to have no end. The only thing that Gwindor heard correctly was the name ‘Aron’.

“Lindir,” Gwindor said, shaking Lindir by his shoulders. “What happened to Aron?”

At that, Lindir fell limp again and his words ceased. The quiet state he was in seemed eerie compared to the state his was just in. Gwindor had to wrap his arms around Lindir’s waist to support him. Lindir listened as Gwindor and Lord Glorfindel began to converse.

“The Slave Aron is dead. He suffered multiple beatings but the ultimate cause of death was strangulation.”

Lindir could hear their words but all was still so surreal. Aron was dead. He only ever wanted to please his master and Elladan was a monster for killing him.

“I knew Aron; he was in my keeping but only for a short while as Master Elladan saw no real need to educate his slave beyond mere obedience.” Gwindor could not have been more nonchalant.

“This one came out of no where,” Glorfindel said suddenly turning the conversation towards Lindir.

“My lord, please forgive me. Lindir has never once acted without my permission.”

Glorfindel simply raised his hand in a gesture of peace. “Be calm Gwindor, no harm was done. We were all just surprised is all.”

The grip of Gwindor’s arms around his waist tightened and Lindir felt something from Gwindor that he had never felt before. He would later identify the vibration as malice.

“What will you do with him?” Glorfindel’s tone changed. It was mix of foreboding and curiosity. The mixture only unnerved Lindir more.

“You need not concern yourself my lord. It would appear that Lindir has not learned obedience enough. I intend to remedy that. But do not worry, unlike Elladan, I am capable of recognizing when enough is enough.”

“Very well, I know that a good slave is a terrible thing to waste.” Glorfindel turned around and went to attend to whatever other business he had. Lindir did not have time to watch the mysterious Glorfindel go on his way, for he was shoved in the opposite direction.

Once Lindir and Gwindor had returned to their chambers, Gwindor shoved Lindir into his room. Gwindor quickly removed the belt from his waist and snapped it. The terrible cracking noise made Lindir’s blood run cold.

“Remove your tunic.” Gwindor commanded and snapped the belt menacingly.

Lindir froze, he knew he was supposed to obey but he didn’t want to. He wanted to run and get away.

Irritated that his command had not been executed, Gwindor advanced upon Lindir. When he was within arms reach he extended his hand but Lindir eluded him. Gwindor’s eyes were aflame and his brow furrowed. “Take off your tunic and get on the bed.”

Gwindor’s icy words frightened Lindir’s last bit of sense out of him. When Gwindor advanced on him for second time, Lindir bolted for the door. But his keeper was too swift and caught him by the waist.

He threw the smaller elf onto the bed and pounced upon him. “You have only made this harder on yourself.” Gwindor took hold of Lindir’s tunic and tore it open. Lindir gasped at the sound of tearing fabric and he struggled to get away. But his struggles only raised his anger and Lindir received a stinging slap to the face.

Gwindor took advantage of the stunned elf and rolled him back over onto his belly. He then proceeded to tie Lindir by his wrists to the headboard of his bed. Lindir was entirely helpless now and he whimpered pitifully. Now that he was restrained, the real punishment began.

Lines that burned like fire were being seared on his back. Sweat came from every pour on his skin and his hair stuck to his face. Tears crawled from Lindir’s face and mingled with the sweat already there.

How many times he had been lashed, Lindir had no idea for he did not dare to count. Never once had he thought Gwindor capable of inflicting such torture. Lindir began to cry out for mercy and forgiveness.

At this plea, Gwindor relented. “Why is this is necessary?” He said.

Lindir remained silent; he was too afraid to speak. His silence earned him another lash and Gwindor repeated his question.

“I left without permission…” Lindir croaked.

“Lindir, not only did you leave here without permission but you attacked one of the lords of this realm. Elladan is none other than the eldest prince of Rivendell.”

“He killed Aron.” Speaking the name of his now departed friend ached as much as the lashes upon his back.

“I told you long ago that Aron’s fate was not your concern.”

The sharpness of Gwindor’s voice warned Lindir and he braced himself for another lash of the belt. Thankfully it never came.

After several moments went by, Gwindor calmed and returned to his more, familiar, relaxed state. He got up off of Lindir’s legs and untied his wrists. Lindir tried to move, he wanted to curl into a ball but he could not. The lacerations on his back seared with fire. Lindir let out a choked cry and lay prone on the bed.

When he felt a hand upon his head, Lindir wanted to pull away out of fear he would be hurt. But the hand was only intended to comfort and Lindir gave over to it; even though this was the same hand that had caused so much pain.

“I hope you understand why I had to do this to you. Whether I have to bestow punishment or not relies on your actions. Therefore it is best that you think twice about disobedience in the future.”

Lindir, weakly, nodded his head and moaned his understanding. Later, Gwindor began to treat his lashes with herbs and cold water. All the while Lindir thought. Had Aron truly done something so wrong as to force Elladan to take such extreme action against him?

In his heart Lindir would always believe that Aron was innocent. He would miss Aron but it did him no good to long for what could never be again. ‘Just forget’ Lindir told himself. ‘Just forget him if you can’.

Neither Gwindor nor Lindir spoke of that day ever again. The lesson was well learned. Lindir did not even do so much as stray out from behind Gwindor’s back as he followed behind him on their outings.

Gwindor noticed the change in Lindir. The youth was not as outgoing or jovial as he was before. Even the melody of his harp play had changed. For a short while, Gwindor worried if whether or not Lindir’s change in demeanor was affecting his attractiveness to potential buyers. But Gwindor soon found that he was worried for nothing.

Lindir’s beauty was more than enough to make up for any personality traits that he may have been lacking. His eyes, despite their sullen gaze, sparkled in an unearthly blue. His hair had gone from pale yellow to a silvery white hue that complimented his cream colored skin. Indeed, Lindir had become a beauty and many were taking notice.

With Lindir coming closer to his age of maturity, Gwindor decided it was time to include another lesson in Lindir’s education.

When Gwindor presented him with books on elven sexuality, Lindir was quite shocked. He knew from reading romance stories that their was a measure of physicality involved when a couple loved each other but he had had no idea just how much else there was.

But if looking at the illustrations in the books did not make him blush, having to answer Gwindor’s questions did. Gwindor asked him things like if he had felt ‘urges’ related to feelings of excitement or if he had touched himself intimately? Lindir had experienced urges that he could not explain but he had not touched himself; at least not yet.

Gwindor did not scold him for being tempted but told him that such experiences were not his to have whenever he wanted. A truly good servant focuses on the pleasure of the. If a servant performs well in their master’s bed then a servant could earn pleasure as a reward.

“But how will I know if I am doing well? I do not even know how to use my body to please my master.” Lindir suddenly had a sinking feeling; would he have to practice such things with Gwindor? But thankfully, Gwindor had no intentions of any such kind.

“I understand your reluctance but you need not worry. The fact that you do not know anything, aye, the fact that you are completely untouched, virginal; will only work to your advantage.”

“But you have always taught me that ignorance of anything can be a disadvantage.” Lindir was completely confused. All of this was a little too much for him.

“I know what I have said in the past but some rules do not always apply. You have your virginity and masters tend to prefer a new slave to have such an asset. It makes them feel as though have waited just for them.

“You may study these books further if you like. That way you will not be entirely ignorant of intercourse. But I must warn you that, whether it is by your own means or with another, you absolutely must not partake of any of the acts described in these pages.”

Lindir nodded and promised he would not do anything to sully himself before he was officially handed over to his master. Later, after dinner, Lindir took the time to study the books that Gwindor had given him. It took Lindir a while but finally he was able to look at the pages without blushing. The illustrations of intercourse itself did not interest him as much as the illustrations of before and after encounters. Lindir stared at the images of couples simply basking in the aftermath of their physical bliss. So content were their faces, or how the drawings portrayed them anyway.

Looking at the illustrations made Lindir realize why it was important that he remain a virgin until in the custody of his master, who ever that might be. Sex was an act of bonding, if not love. Lindir began to wonder if his master would hold him with tenderness and look at him with such passion.

It was then that a strange thought crossed Lindir’s mind. If he and Aron had not been slaves and were allowed to have met each other freely, might they have experienced what Lindir read on these pages? Sadly, Lindir would never know.

Lindir met the day when he officially came of age with much activity and preparation. Gwindor spared no expense in seeing to it that Lindir looked nothing less than his absolute best. His hair was trimmed and softened and he was given a new set of clothes made of fine silk and satin. When Lindir looked at himself in the mirror he barely recognized the reflection.

Those who attended the debut were equally impressed. The nobles complimented that there was indeed a lot of fine slaves for sale, but Lindir was the finest of them all. Lindir wooed the crowd with his harp and his song.

In that moment, it was almost as though his dream had come to life. He played in an elegant hall before an audience entranced by his song-only there was no lover for him among the on lookers. There were only potential buyers.

When the bidding opened at long last, there was a flurry competition. Nobles were offering gold or jewels and some went as so far as to offer estates to Gwindor as payment for Lindir. An hour passed and the group of bidders had dwindled to a mere two. Lords Ciril and Luin were the only elves present who still had enough to afford Lindir.

It was a well known fact that both elves were rivals in just about everything so it came as no surprise that they carried on with the bidding the way they did. But finally, Luin won over Gwindor by offering both gold and a title as well. Feeling that Lord Gwindor had a nice ring to it, the bidding was closed. That was it, Lindir had a master now. It was to be Lord Luin. Defeated, Ciril left the ceremony hall in angry haste.

Lindir was hardly able to sleep at all that night. The reality that this would be the last night spent in Gwindor’s care affected him more than he thought. He had a master now and had made his keeper very wealthy in the process. He knew he should be proud but all he felt was fear. He cried himself to sleep that night.

Though Gwindor was not there when Lindir woke in the morning, he was well aware of what was required of him. Lindir bathed and then dressed in the appropriate clothing; he had to look presentable when Luin, his new master came for him.

Lindir guessed that Gwindor was with Luin now-finishing up the last details of the bargain no doubt. Lindir had only got a brief glimpse of Luin at the auction the night before. He was dark in coloring, typical of elves native to this part of Middle-earth but his features gave no hint as to his personality. Would he be a kind master?

Lindir’s mind darkened when he thought further on his situation-he had gained a master but was losing all that was familiar to him. While he lived with Gwindor he had books, his own room but most important of all was his harp. But all of this belonged to Gwindor and Lindir would have to leave it all behind.

Lindir went to the small table on which the harp was displayed on. His fingers connected with the strings the way a drop connected with the ocean. Lindir wondered how he would ever live without his music.

“It is a shame; Luin really has no appreciation for fine music.”

Lindir spun around to see a strange elf in his room-it was only a minute later that he recognized the elf as Ciril. Lindir wanted to call for Gwindor but his keeper had not yet returned-he was alone with Ciril.

The dark haired elf advanced on him slowly. “I really had hoped to be your master but alas I am not wealthy enough. I would have appreciated your song though.”

Lindir became increasingly nervous in the dark elf’s presence. His words, though kind in intent, had a dark flavor to them.

“Please my lord, is there something you want?” Lindir asked wanting to know why this elf had come to bother him. But his question only roused a dark smile from Ciril. The elf suddenly grasped Lindir by the arms.

“Revenge,” He said plainly before he struck Lindir in the face. The blow that Ciril dealt him took him by complete surprise. Dazed, he nearly crumpled to the floor but Ciril gathered him up before he hit the ground.

Ciril dumped Lindir unceremoniously on his bed. Blood trickled slowly from Lindir’s nostrils and hues of purple and black began to form on his face. Lindir tried to raise himself up but the weight of Ciril’s body crashed upon him and he couldn’t move.

Ciril wasted no time, he grabbed the waist-band of Lindir’s leggings and pulled them off. Lindir could feel Ciril’s finger nails gouging his legs in one place or another. When Ciril tried to push his tunic over his head Lindir fought back. He scratched and clawed at Ciril’s hands drawing blood but Ciril only struck him again.

Ciril pulled Lindir’s legs apart and settled between them. Lindir began to sob and Ciril smashed one of his hands over Lindir’s mouth to silence him. Lindir was completely immobilized and at Ciril’s mercy.

Lindir could hear the fumbling of fabric and the sound of lacings being undone. When he tried to move his arms Ciril caught his wrists and pinned them down. The rest of the act was swift yet terrible. Lindir felt like he would split in two as Ciril forced himself harder and harder on his body.

Lindir could not move; all he could do was cry and the tears flowed down his face. ‘What have I done’ Lindir thought? ‘What have I done to deserve this?’

Ciril suddenly groaned and the pain in Lindir’s body exploded into searing heat. Ciril collapsed upon Lindir. Ciril’s grip on him relaxed and Lindir shook his head freeing his mouth from Ciril’s hand. He breathed quick but deep breaths but made no other attempts to move or to struggle.

Several minutes went by before Ciril stirred and got up off of his victim. Lindir only peeked for a second but it was long enough to see blood, his blood, on Ciril’s exposed flesh. The disheveled elf hastily tucked his member away and retied his leggings.

“Let us see if Luin wants you now.” Was all that Ciril said before storming out of the room leaving Lindir- behind bruised and bleeding.

When Gwindor returned, with Luin in tow and found Lindir in his ravaged state they both became enraged.

“Is this what you mean to sell me? I thought you dealt in only the best merchandise but now I see the truth. Tell me, how many have you tricked into buying second hand whores?”

Lindir wanted to run to Gwindor and cry. It wasn’t true, he was not a whore and he could not understand why Luin called him such.

Luin headed out of the room shouting “I will be taking my money back and the only title you may claim now is that of the lord of whores.”

“I’m ruined,” Gwindor said bitterly.

“Ci…Ciril,” Lindir squeaked. He wanted Gwindor to know who had done this. At hearing Ciril’s name, Gwindor laughed bitterly. So he was to be a victim of Ciril’s revenge as well.

In the explosion of his rage Gwindor knocked the table, upon which Lindir’s harp stood, to the ground taking the instrument with it. The breaking of the harps strings sounded as though the very instrument itself was crying. The harp lay on the floor, broken, just like Lindir’s heart.

“Worthless, you are absolutely worthless now.” Gwindor swept over and grabbed Lindir by the collar. “What price can I expect now with you having been plundered?”

Lindir started crying. “But why, I can still do every thing you taught me…”

“Don’t be stupid, your virginity was your only real asset. Now you are no better than a whore slave dragged from the wild.”

No longer was Lindir the greatest achievement of Gwindor’s career, now he was nothing but a debt, and a large one at that. Now Gwindor could only hope for a few pieces of silver for Lindir. Gwindor got those few pieces of silver when he sold Lindir to the barracks.

Before Lindir knew it, he was being dragged from Gwindor’s chambers and to the barracks where the common slaves were kept. The barracks were like being inside a nightmare. Poor souls lay in beds with evidence of cruel handling all over their bodies.

People were allowed to do whatever they wanted with these surplus slaves. Often soldiers returning from patrols or nobles looking for an inexpensive thrill were the barracks most common visitors.

Much to the delight of the slave keepers, Lindir became very popular-a high quality slave at a discount-they would call him. Night after night, Lindir would be called to the chambers of high ranking soldiers or nobles where he would serve them in any way they asked. Lindir learned to numb himself to the feelings of disgust that threatened to take him when he lay beneath who ever had him for the night. It was only till after they were finished with him that Lindir allowed himself to cry.

One night as usual, one of the nobles asked for a slave to be brought to his chambers for. When they arrived at the door, the slave master knocked and was quickly bid entry. Once inside, Lindir couldn’t help but to be taken aback by the luxury that surrounded him. This noble was wealthy indeed.

“Here is the one I told you about my lord,” Said the slave master to the noble. Lindir lifted his eyes to see who was before him, but instead of fear, he was struck with a sense of familiarity-he knew this elf from some where.

The lord was tall and elegant with blonde hair but his face appeared cross. He eyed Lindir with a critical gaze. “How competent is he?”

“I assure my lord Glorfindel,” Said the slave keeper, “he follows instruction quite well and is very obedient, or so say those who have enlisted his services before.”

Glorfindel! Lindir knew that name-he remembered Glorfindel. He had been the one to restrain him against Elladan-Aron’s killer. But that was so long ago; would Glorfindel remember him?

Glorfindel smirked, “Yes but the services I hope he can provide are vastly different from the uses others have put him to.” Again, Glorfindel looked annoyed but waved his hand in consent. “Very well, I am sure he will do just fine,” The noble said to the slave master before he dismissed the salve master.

Lindir held still as Glorfindel approached him. Glorfindel used his finger to tilt Lindir’s face from left to right. “You seem nervous, are you unwilling to do as I bid.”

Lindir breathed deeply and clenched his fist in an attempt to stem his trembling. “I am prepared to serve you my lord.”

“I am sure you are prepared but the question is how well. When I made my request, the slave master told me that you originally trained to be a life servant for the noble class. Is this true?”

“Yes,” Lindir was surprised how easily he answered that question considering how much shame it caused him to have to acknowledge what he could no longer have.

“Good, that means that you should be more capable than the usual waifs that the slave keepers try to push on me.”

Glorfindel turned and gestured fro Lindir to follow him. Glorfindel began to tour Lindir around his chambers. He explained to Lindir that he was about to be called away on a mission and would be gone for a long period of time and needed someone to look after his possessions until he returned.

Lindir listened as Glorfindel instructed him on the general maintenance of his chambers which included cleaning and even the care of the plants the lord had in his keeping. Glorfindel was especially stern about what was to be done about the delivery of written documents requiring his signature that might arrive in his absence. Such things were to be left on his desk and only on his desk.

When Glorfindel believed he had told the little slave everything he needed to know he addressed him. “Are any of the instructions I have given in any way unclear?”

“No, I believe I understand everything.” Lindir spoke plainly.

“Good, you may stay in the back room I showed you. There are several sets of clothes, for work and sleep. You will have to wash them yourself.”

Lindir nodded his head and for a brief moment, made direct eye contact with Glorfindel. Again, Glorfindel tipped Lindir’s chin with his hand. “Might I ask you name.”

“My name is Lindir my Lord.” Lindir braced himself, would his name sound familiar to Glorfindel?

“Lindir,” Glorfindel said critically. He looked as though he were thinking about the name but quickly passed it off. “Very well Lindir. Food will be sent to you three times a day. If you have any other questions or needs pass them on to whichever servant delivers your food.”

“Yes my lord, I promise I will do a good job.” Lindir bowed his head as he had been taught to do. If Glorfindel made any sign of acknowledgement, Lindir did not see it. The lord retreated to his bedroom and exited fully dressed in battle armor and left Lindir without a word.

The first day of his assignment passed and there had been nothing for Lindir to do but to eat the food that was given to him and now it was time for sleep. He lay in the bed that was for him and, strangely enough, found him self thinking about the barracks. Lindir knew that for the moment he was away from the torment that dwelt in that horrible place. But most likely he would be sent back once this assignment was over.

Despite a night spent despairing over the fate that awaited him at the end of Glorfindel’s mission, Lindir threw himself whole hearted into the task Glorfindel had set for him. Everyday he swept away the leaves that blew in from outside by the wind, he dusted the furniture and made sure all arriving documents were divided and piled up neatly on Glorfindel’s desk.

Lindir was so distracted by his chores that he never realized that he was smiling or signing until he reached the end of a song. Lindir began to fancy himself as Glorfindel’s assistant and reveled in the idea. But the day he had been dreading finally came, the day when Glorfindel was scheduled to return.

Lindir made one last check of Glorfindel’s chambers to make sure all was in order. In his short stay he had begun to think of this place as his home. He would miss having his own room and clean clothes to wear. When Lindir felt the sting of tears in his eyes he pushed such thoughts out of his mind. He certainly did not want Glorfindel to return and find him crying.

But what walked through was nothing like what Lindir had expected. Glorfindel returned- but not alone and not well. Glorfindel leaned upon a dark haired elf for support. It wasn’t until the dark haired elf addressed him that Lindir recognized who it was-it was Elrond.

“You there, your master is injured. Fetch some clean rags and a bowl of water.” Elrond commanded with much urgency. Lindir wasted no time doing as he was told and took them to Elrond. Lindir handed Elrond the dampened cloths who then rubbed healing herbs into the fabric before applying them to Glorfindel’s wounds.

Lindir took a curious peek at Glorfindel, who Elrond had settled into bed, and the wound that had been dealt him. It looked as though Glorfindel had been stabbed or slashed somehow and the wound looked angry. Glorfindel himself did not look too well either.

“Fear not little one, the wound looks worse than it actually is,” Elrond said as he applied the last of the bandaging.

Lindir breathed a sigh relief at hearing Elrond’s words. He didn’t even realize how frightened he had just been.

When Elrond finished his work and Glorfindel was asleep he turned his attention to Lindir.

“I was not aware that my captain had a slave in his keeping. What is your name and have you been with Glorfindel for very long?”

“My name is Lindir my lord. I am a slave but Glorfindel has no ownership of me. I was only supposed to tend to his chambers whilst he was away. Now that he is back I am to return to the slave barracks.”

“Well the slave keepers will have to do without you for a while longer. I will be in to check on Glorfindel regularly but I would feel better knowing there is someone here to look after him day in and day out.”

Lindir agreed right away to Elrond’s request and listened intently to Elrond’s instructions on how to care for Glorfindel and how to use the herbs and other medicines that were prescribed for his injury. Elrond was not sure how long it would take for Glorfindel to recover but Lindir agreed to remain as long as it was necessary.

Lindir not only tended to Glorfindel but went about his usual chores as well. When the time came he ordered food for Glorfindel but the elf had yet to wake. Having no other chores to do, Lindir spent the remainder of the day sitting by Glorfindel’s side.

Later in the night, Lindir was roused from his sleep by the sound of thrashing and moaning. In the dim light of the candles Lindir could see Glorfindel turning about on the bed. Sweat covered his brow and Lindir worried that his rash movements might reopen his wounds.

Lindir sat on the edge of the bed and gently touched Glorfindel’s forehead. Sweat coated Glorfindel’s face and tears clung to the dark eye lashes. Not knowing how else to comfort Glorfindel, Lindir decided to sing. It was an old song about the sea and the stars-one of Lindir’s favorite. As Lindir sang more confidently, Glorfindel’s movements subdued and eventually stopped all together.

Lindir came to the end of his song and brushed a few stray locks of hair away from Glorfindel’s face. The lord seemed so peaceful now that he was resting properly. Lindir removed himself from the bed and pulled up a chair to the bedside. He would remain there for the rest of the night and see to it that his lord’s sleep would not be disturbed.

Lindir did not know what time it was but the sound of muffled voices roused him from his sleep. When he opened his eyes the first thing he saw was that Glorfindel was no longer in bed. The light coming in through the drapes told Lindir that it was the hour of early morning. The voices were coming from the sitting room. One was Glorfindel’s voice, Lindir was unsure of the other voice.

Lindir cautiously made his way into the sitting room lest he blunder into an important encounter between Glorfindel and his visitor. The visitor turned out to be lord Elrond; he had come to check on Glorfindel just as he had said.

Apparently Elrond had just finished changing the bandages on Glorfindel’s wounds. “The wound is healing nicely, I would say at least three or four days and you should be able to return to, albeit light, active duty.”

“Thank you my friend, you know how I tire of idleness.” Glorfindel drawled.

“Promise me at least two days,” Elrond spoke as though he were a parent commanding an over eager child. “I do not wish to see you out and about any sooner than that.”

Elrond then turned his attention to Lindir, a shock from which the poor elf had no time to prepare for. “You have done well little one,” Elrond said warmly. He presented Lindir with a small phial filled with clear Liquid.

“If he has any pain, dilute two drops of that in a cup of tea. That dose should be enough. If your lord has any other problems come and fetch me in the healing wing, understand?”

“Yes my lord.” Lindir bowed his head.

Elrond nodded his approval and left the room. Only then did Lindir look up to see Glorfindel. He was reclining on his sofa sipping tea with a luxurious mantle draped about him.

“Elrond was commenting on what a good job you have been doing in my absence,” Glorfindel took a sip before continuing,” I must admit that I am rather impressed myself. It is not every slave who can follow instruction so well or sing for that matter.”

Lindir paled. Would Glorfindel be upset with him? Last night he had only meant to try and comfort Glorfindel and using his song was the only thing he could think of.

“Tell me, where did you learn to sing like that?” Glorfindel placed the tea cup down and waited for an answer.

Lindir fumbled with the hem of his tunic as he struggled to come up with an answer.

Impatient with the slave’s silence, Glorfindel asked another question. “You are more than just a common slave, I know you are. I admit that the day I found you, I felt as though I had met you before, sometime in the past. But my memory escapes me.”

Glorfindel beckoned Lindir to come closer to him. He instructed Lindir to sit down next to him. Lindir bit his bottom lip to muffle his whimpering as Glorfindel took a hold of his chin and intensely examined his face.

“Yes, I know I have seen you somewhere before. Who are you, tell me!” Glorfindel demanded.

“Several years ago,” Lindir began, “You were present at the chambers of prince Elladan. You were there because a slave had died.”

Glorfindel’s eyes widened and the memories rushed back to him; now he remembered Lindir.

“The slave who died was my friend,” Lindir, positive that Glorfindel remembered now, continued. “When I tried to attack Elladan, you were the one who stopped me.”

“Yes, I do remember now. You were Master Gwindor’s protégé then, weren’t you?”
Lindir nodded.

“I do not understand, why then were you in the barracks. Should you not have been sold to a wealthy master?”

It was like the opening of a flood gate and Lindir recounted everything about his past. His efforts to please Gwindor, his hopes of one day becoming a great entertainer for his master and how it was all destroyed by Ciril’s petty vengeance.

“I see, once that lord plundered you, Gwindor just threw you away.” Glorfindel reached out and wiped the tears that had formed in Lindir’s eyes away. “What a waste, a terrible waste.”

“These past weeks spent in your service have not been a waste, not for me at least. I feel as though I have at least had a chance to serve a more valuable purpose then that of a mere body servant.”

“It is interesting that you should feel that way, you see, Elrond was suggesting that I keep you.”

Lindir’s heart missed a beat; could it be possible that he would never have to go back to the barracks ever again. Furthermore, He would be able to continue in Glorfindel’s service.

“I take it that such an arrangement would be pleasing to you.” Lindir could not conceal how much he wanted Glorfindel to keep him. It was written all over his face and Glorfindel could read it plainly.

“Do not get too excited. I told Elrond that I would keep you but I do this only out of my respect for him. I am willing to test this arrangement, at least until I am fully recovered. After that, it will be up to you to make sure that you never do anything to make me not want to keep you.”

The days of Glorfindel’s recovery period came and went yet Glorfindel did not have Lindir returned to the barracks. But Glorfindel had yet to truly claim Lindir as his own. But Lindir never lapsed in his service to Glorfindel. His service to the esteemed lord gave Lindir a sense of purpose; a recapture of something he had lost.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months and soon an entire year had gone by in Glorfindel’s service. Lindir’s efforts had not gone unnoticed. Glorfindel made the effort to reward Lindir with things such as articles of clothing or sweets. Lindir appreciated the gifts and by this time, Lindir felt his heart sway towards Glorfindel. The gold lord was just like one of the dashing heroes Lindir would read about in his books from so long ago.

One night Lindir was cleaning up after a dinner party Glorfindel had for several of his friends. Glorfindel remained at the table and examined several documents that had been discussed that evening while Lindir cleared away the dishes.

Glorfindel put the documents down. All that was left was for Lindir to file them away. Glorfindel looked up to call Lindir to do just that when something about the slave caught his eye. Lindir was dressed in a silk tunic colored a dark midnight blue. The dark color contrasted gorgeously with his white hair and the cream colored leggings he wore.

Indeed Lindir was quite a beauty; Glorfindel wondered why he had not noticed sooner. And of course Elrond was still on his case to stop procrastinating and make Lindir’s status as his servant official. But until this time Glorfindel had not been sure. Perhaps it was time to give Lindir one final test.

Lindir acknowledged Glorfindel with a glance when he became aware that the elf was standing right next to him. After spending so much time in Glorfindel’s service, Lindir had learned to dismiss the way he would, at times, seem to stand by and observe him work. So when Glorfindel suddenly encircled him in his arms, Lindir was very surprised.

“My lord,“ Lindir began but his words were quickly stifled by a sudden kiss. His mind went completely blank and his body numb.

Pleased that Lindir did not protest or pull away, Glorfindel deepened the kiss. His tongue entered and eagerly explored the trembling mouth. The little whimpers that Lindir emitted were equally enticing.

“As sweet as I imagined,” Glorfindel said breaking the kiss. He smiled at the way Lindir’s face was completely flushed. His swollen lips begged for more attention which Glorfindel was only too eager to give.

One kiss quickly became a flurry and Lindir’s knees turned into jelly and he had to rely more on Glorfindel’s support just to keep standing. Before Lindir knew, he and Glorfindel were in bed together.

Glorfindel quickly divested himself of his clothes and his muscled physique was revealed in all its glory to Lindir’s eyes. Lindir’s mouth went dry at the sight before him. His skin hummed with sensations caused by the contact between his body and another’s. But somewhere, deep inside his mind, a voice began to grow. It was faint at first but as Glorfindel became more excited, the voice became a full blown scream. Memories of what Ciril had done to him threatened to destroy this moment between him and Glorfindel.

‘No, this is not Ciril’ Lindir told himself. ‘This is Glorfindel, and he’s not trying to hurt me’

Glorfindel pulled the laces on Lindir’s leggings open and the garment came off his legs with incredible ease. Lindir was left wearing only the blousy, dark blue tunic. It was tempting to pull even that away but the way Lindir’s naked, cream colored, legs emerged from the dark fabric seemed more erotic.

Glorfindel was ready to pounce on Lindir and truly make the elf his. But Glorfindel could see the struggle in Lindir’s eyes; he was not entirely ready for this. Glorfindel knew it would be all too easy to restrain Lindir if he resisted but then the elf would never trust him again. No, it was better to wait, wait and let Lindir come of his own free will.

Lindir Looked into Glorfindel’s eyes. They did not carry the lust for pain that Ciril’s had but only patience. ‘He wants me to do this with him’ Lindir’s heart began to beat faster as his feelings began to overwhelm him. ‘I do want to do this with him, I love him’. Lindir could have cried as the joy of realizing his love for Glorfindel. He reached out his arms to his lord and love and nearly lost his breath when Glorfindel pulled him flush against his own body.

Making love with Glorfindel was like a dream. Lindir savored every touch, sound and sensation he experienced. Ever Lindir desired to be closer to Glorfindel and never was that feeling fulfilled when Glorfindel entered him and began to move. Lindir focused intently on the hard flesh and how it filled him so completely. Glorfindel was truly a master and used his cock to touch the deepest places in Lindir’s body.

Lindir was on all fours with Glorfindel pounding into him harder and faster then ever. Lindir couldn’t help his mewing and little purrs as his whole body began to tingle with building sensation. When Lindir finally came to orgasm, he nearly fainted; he did not even know he could feel such bliss. Glorfindel came only a moment later and the exuberant cry was proof positive that he was thoroughly satisfied.

The two of them spent the next several minutes catching their breath. Glorfindel lay on his back with Lindir snuggled next to him. “You never said I was yours.” Lindir panted teasingly into Glorfindel’s ear.

“You are now.” Glorfindel held Lindir securely to him. “I have wanted this for some time now. But I remember how you said you were forced in the past; I did not want you to think I was doing the same.”

“Aye, you would never need to force me. You have redeemed me and therefore there is nothing I would not do for you.”

Glorfindel chuckled. “After tonight I have no doubt of that.”

In first few years of being Glorfindel’s servant, Lindir had become so happy. He had achieved the status he once thought he might never have and he walked with his head held high. Lindir soon forgot about Gwindor and all other components of his past. Lindir looked only to the future with Glorfindel.

Other nobles were so impressed with Lindir that some even approached Glorfindel with offers to purchase the talented servant. Glorfindel never tired of their efforts but in the end, he stated that Lindir was too important to him to sell at any price. Hearing such words made Lindir’s heart sore for he knew that his place at Glorfindel’s side was secure.

Centuries went by and Lindir never once lapsed (not seriously anyway) in his service to Glorfindel. The lord took him everywhere and even allowed him to sit in on treaty negotiations and even special operations talks. At times, Lindir was privy to some of the most secret information and plots relating to elven government.

But as the centuries wore on, Glorfindel began to pay less and less attention to Lindir. Times spent in the lord’s bed were also becoming fewer and fewer and Lindir began to feel very lonely.

The lovers that Glorfindel invited to his chambers were a devastating reminder to Lindir that no matter how much he truly cared for Glorfindel, he was still just a servant. But Glorfindel’s relationships never lasted for very long. Those were the times when Lindir would once again be called back to Glorfindel’s bed. And of course, Lindir went without hesitation.

It was rumored that the golden lord’s heart truly lied with a young prince who resided somewhere under the dark canopy of Mirkwood. Lindir had only heard such rumors among the whispers of other nobles as they passed by. Rumor has it that it was because of his unrequited love for the prince, named Legolas, that Glorfindel could not find happiness with any other.

Lindir knew enough about Glorfindel by now to know that there was indeed truth to what others said. But he could not deny the feelings of his own heart.

“Others can desert you but I won’t,” Lindir would whisper to Glorfindel while he slept. “No matter what happens no other will love you as much as I do.” That would be Lindir’s solemn promise to Glorfindel. It was also a way for Lindir to enable himself to drown out the loneliness that built evermore within him.

But everything changed one day when Glorfindel returned from patrol with an unconscious elf in his arms. Both he and Lindir worked to clean and dress the elf’s wounds. All the while Lindir took in the condition of the elf’s body. His dark hair was matted and tangled. Some areas were so bad that Glorfindel had to cut the tangles out with scissors. But his body was truly poor condition. The bruises and scars spoke of years of abuse and neglect.

When they had the elf stabilized Glorfindel explained that the elf was a body slave and belonged to an elf known as Anormegil. But Anormegil had been slain along with the rest of his convoy and his slave, apparently, was the only survivor. The elf was now the property of Glorfindel along with the rest of Anormegil’s assets according to his written will.

The attack on the Lorien convoy had caused quite a stir. As such, Glorfindel told Lindir that he would probably be in and out for the next several weeks. Glorfindel did not have to explain further for Lindir declared that he would see to the care of the dark haired elf.

Over the next several days, Lindir would take care of his tasks during the day and see to his charge when they were done. Lindir would comb the elf’s dark hair and wipe the perspiration away from his brow. Lindir felt as though he were looking after Glorfindel all over again. Of course this elf looked nothing like Glorfindel. No, he looked more like Aron.

Aron; Lindir had not thought about him in years. Was Anormegil cruel like Elladan? Did he beat this still unnamed elf before him the way Elladan did Aron?

“I had a friend once who looked like you,” Lindir whispered to the sleeping elf. “His master was very cruel to him as well.” Lindir’s heart constricted with the memory of the pain he had felt when Aron died.

“I loved Aron so much and Elladan killed him. For so long I wished that I could have saved Aron but there was nothing I could do.”

The dark haired elf moaned in his sleep and Lindir spent several minutes just looking at his face. He did not know what would happen to the elf once he was well, such a thing would be Glorfindel’s decision.

The next morning, the dark haired elf began to stir. Lindir thanked the Valar that Glorfindel happened to be home that morning. Lindir immediately informed his master that the elf was waking. As soon as he was coherent enough, Glorfindel began to ask his questions as well as inform the dark haired elf of his situation. But of all the questions that were answered, Lindir was only interested in one; the elf’s name-it was Figwit.

When Glorfindel was satisfied with Figwit, he walked out of the room and motioned for Lindir to follow.

“I do not know what I am to do with this lanky creature.” Glorfindel said wryly as he walked into his office. Lindir shut the door behind them lest poor Figwit hear what they were discussing.

“Why do you say that, my lord?” Already Lindir dreaded to here what Glorfindel planed to do with Figwit.

“I knew Anormegil well enough to know about his sick tastes in pleasure. Valar only know what cruel uses Anormegil probably put Figwit to.” Glorfindel sighed. “The elf is probably worse off mentally then physically. But I suppose I shall have the slave keepers come and get him. Any problems that Figwit has, they can deal with.”

Lindir shuddered. “Must you my lord, surely there is another alternative? Can you not find someone to take him in?”

“What do you suggest?” Glorfindel could not help it. Lindir had always been the best servant and Glorfindel knew that he owed it to Lindir to at least listen to him.

“My lord you rescued me from that terrible place because you found use in my abilities. Perhaps the same can be true of this elf.”

“But Lindir, Figwit was a wild elf, I can tell. He is not educated like you and there is no guarantee that he will even listen to you.”

“I understand that my lord but please, I cannot bear the thought of him having to go to that horrible place.” Lindir had to fight down the memories of all the pain he endured while living in the barracks.

“I ask my lord that you entrust Figwit to me. I will make every effort to teach him what he needs to know. After that I am positive he will be fit for service.”

“I have no doubt in your abilities Lindir but all the, I still can’t imagine who might want him.”

“Surely there must be someone you know who owes you a favor. Perhaps they might take him?” Countered Lindir.

Glorfindel chuckled; after all this time Lindir was still able to surprise him. “That is true I suppose.” Glorfindel thought for a few minutes. It really would not hurt anything to, at least, let Lindir try

“Alright, I have to go to Lothlorien to make my report on all that has happened with Anormegil’s convoy. I will be gone for a couple of weeks. I leave Figwit’s care in your hands; he will be your responsibility.”

“Yes, trust me my lord, you will not be disappointed.”

Glorfindel left shortly after that. Lindir was anxious to begin Figwit’s training but he had to wait for him to be fully recovered. Lindir continued to look after Figwit and his health improved. Figwit began to move about the living space and occasionally, peeking out windows. Lindir began to feel afraid that Figwit was planning something; an escape, maybe?

Lindir’s fear came to pass sooner then he was prepared. He had to leave Figwit for an errand that could not be ignored any longer. He had not been gone too long when the sound of yelling and commotion drew his attention. He turned a corner to see Figwit in the clutches of none other than Elladan.

Lindir knew Figwit must have tried to escape and so did Elladan. But Lindir wasn’t going to let Elladan have Figwit; he would not lose someone else to that monster. Thinking quickly, Lindir tried to convince Elladan that Figwit was merely searching for him and had innocently blundered out into the open. But Elladan was persistent and probably would have taken Figwit had Elrond not intervened.

Elrond was a wonderful person and though he did nothing to abolish the keeping of slaves in his land, he always helped slaves whenever he could. Though Lindir came away with a strike from Elladan, he had succeeded in keeping him from getting Figwit-at least he had this time. Elrond was kind enough to escort them back to Glorfindel’s chambers.

Once inside, Lindir pleaded with Figwit to never try and escape again. The whole time he thought about the day Aron died and how no one seemed to care. If anything, Lindir would not let Elladan get to Figwit but he could not protect him if the elf would not listen to him.

But Thankfully, Lindir’s persuasions worked. Figwit acquiesced entirely when Lindir assured him that if he learned and obeyed, he would be rewarded by being given to a good master-at least one that was better then Anormegil any way.

The month, for Lindir at least, flew by quickly and Figwit proved to be an astute learner. Lindir quite enjoyed having Figwit as a student and companion for the time being. Furthermore, Lindir looked forward to the praise Glorfindel was sure to give him for all his work with Figwit.

The day arrived when Glorfindel returned home from his mission. In preparation, Lindir took extra special care to see that Figwit was dressed and groomed properly. When finished, Figwit was given a moment to look at himself in the mirror. Lindir as well, was impressed with just how well Figwit polished up. With the way he looked now how could any potential master refuse?

Lindir was quite proud of his student and knew that soon he would go to a master who, no doubt, he would make very happy. But at the same time, Lindir felt saddened. Once Figwit was gone there would be no one for Lindir to spend his time with. Strange that Lindir had not realized just how attached he was to Figwit until now.

It was not long before Glorfindel returned to his quarters. When Lindir bowed to his master, he made every movement of his body more pronounced so that Figwit could follow his lead. Glorfindel was impressed of course with how healthy Figwit had become. He even decided to put Figwit to the test and gave the elf his travel bags to put away.

Glorfindel then motioned for Lindir to follow him to his bedroom. It was hard for Lindir to just abandon Figwit to his task but Glorfindel was right; it was time to see how well Figwit had learned. But also, Lindir ever yearned for the chance to spend some time alone with his beloved master.

Without having to be told, Lindir prepared a bath for Glorfindel and laid out fresh clothes. As a reward, he was allowed to wash Glorfindel’s hair, a task that Lindir relished very much. While Lindir tended to Glorfindel he told him all about Figwit’s training.

“Your effort shows,” Glorfindel said jovially. “Figwit is like a new elf with a beauty all his own.” His last few words weighed with a tone that Glorfindel used when he had lust on his mind. Was it possible that Glorfindel desired Figwit?

“I also learned from Elrond that Figwit decided to take a little stroll by himself while you were out. Care to elaborate.”

Lindir froze. Glorfindel may have sounded lighthearted about the matter but Lindir knew better. Glorfindel suspected that Figwit’s ‘little stroll’ was really an escape attempt. Lindir confessed the truth but pleaded on Figwit’s behalf as well. Lindir claimed that Figwit feared the abuse he suffered in Anormegil’s keeping would only continue if he did not escape.

“You like him.” It was statement, not a question. “What happens to him means a lot to you. Tell me,” Glorfindel gave gently stroked Lindir’s face, “Does my servant enjoy having a companion?”

Lindir leaned into the touch. “Yes my master, I have come to care for Figwit a great deal. I cannot bear the thought of him coming to any harm, not whilst there is something I can do to stop it. Please have mercy on him for his transgression?”

“Fear not Lindir,” Glorfindel rose from the bath tub and proceeded to dry off with a towel. “I heard about the encounter he had with Elladan and that you took the punishment.”

For a brief moment, Lindir’s body remembered the pain of the blow that Elladan had dealt him. He unconsciously rubbed his face where he had been hit. Glorfindel, now dressed in a robe, knelt down in front of Lindir and cradled his face with his hands.

“Were you hurt badly?” He asked with the tenderness that always made Lindir’s heart melt.

“No my lord, I was able to keep Figwit away from Elladan so it was worth it.”

Being in charge of Figwit’s welfare had changed Lindir, Glorfindel could see it. Lindir had always been a loyal servant and as such, Glorfindel could not help sparing him a thought or two. Lindir never hesitated to do what was asked him. Glorfindel thought that perhaps it was time that he do something for Lindir.

Glorfindel smiled and pulled himself as well as Lindir up from the floor. By the time Glorfindel had finished dressing the hour for dinner had arrived. Lindir was dieing go out and check on Figwit but Glorfindel forbid it. Apparently Glorfindel was still testing him. So when Figwit knocked on the door and announced dinner, Lindir was greatly relieved.

Figwit announced the arrival of dinner although the nervousness could be heard clearly in his voice. As soon Glorfindel opened his bedroom doors, Lindir smiled at Lindir. Figwit immediately relaxed.

Glorfindel allowed Figwit a place at the table although; Lindir did not believe that Figwit understood that this was his reward. But soon Lindir was so engrossed in seeing to it that Glorfindel had everything he needed that he hardly paid attention to Figwit.

Lindir always made sure to use extra special care when pouring Glorfindel’s wine or selecting which food items to put on his plate. Sometimes Lindir wondered if Glorfindel even noticed the love he put into even the slightest effort.

Every time he was rewarded with an affectionate touch, his desires were triggered. Glorfindel had been away for so long; surely tonight he would want comfort. Lindir’s skin hummed at the thought of possibly spending tonight in bed with his master.

But during the last half of the meal, Lindir noticed that Glorfindel seemed distracted. He continued to stare at Figwit more and more. Figwit, however, did not seem to notice and looked very depressed.

Lindir asked Figwit what was bothering him but before he could go to his friend or get an answer, Glorfindel stopped him. Lindir knew by the look in Glorfindel’s eyes that he was to remain behind unless other wise summoned. Lindir watched, completely dumfounded as Glorfindel motioned for Figwit to follow him. The two of them disappeared behind the bedroom doors.

Lindir began to clear away the used dishes and tidy up the table. All the while the shut doors taunted him. ‘It should be me in there with Glorfindel, he is my master’ Lindir thought bitterly. But the sounds of passion that soon emanated from behind the doors stabbed Lindir’s heart like a thousand knives. Glorfindel and Figwit were making love together.

Lindir felt so crushed, even betrayed; like Figwit had stolen Glorfindel right out from underneath him. But Glorfindel was the master; he could do whatever he wanted. Lindir knew he had to accept that. But it still hurt that the one he loved was currently finding his pleasure with another.

‘It will be alright though’ Lindir told himself. ‘Perhaps this is just another test. Soon Figwit will be gone and I will be the only one to serve Glorfindel once more’. But just as soon as Lindir reached this conclusion, his heart ached over Figwit’s future. Even if Glorfindel did find some one good for him, Lindir would be alone once more. There would be no one to keep him company while Glorfindel was away on missions or patrols.

It was not until the next morning that Lindir learned that Glorfindel would be keeping Figwit as a second servant. When he had time he would give Figwit a bracelet bearing his crest. Figwit seemed very happy with the situation. The first chance he got, Figwit enveloped Lindir in a big hug-“I can stay with you,” he cried out joyfully.

Lindir, however, had mixed feelings. With Glorfindel having claimed Figwit as his own, Lindir now had a companion and helper; he wouldn’t have to be lonely anymore. But this also meant that he had to share Glorfindel, for now he had two people to see to his needs. It all would depend on which one he preferred.

For weeks it was Figwit, not Lindir, who Glorfindel called to his bed. Lindir felt as though he had been replaced; discarded. What was it about Figwit that made him a more appealing bed partner? Lindir could not understand it and at night, he would cry about. One night, after serving Glorfindel, Figwit returned to the room he now shared with Lindir. At hearing his roommate enter, Lindir tried to stifle his tears but was unable to.
Figwit had a bed of his own and would have settled in it had it not been for the sound of sniffling and muffled cries. He went over to Lindir’s bed to find his friend huddled underneath the sheets crying.

“Lindir, why are you crying,” He asked as he slipped into bed beside Lindir. Figwit waited for an answer but Lindir only continued to sob. Figwit simply wrapped his arms around Lindir and spooned up behind him.

“Don’t cry Lindir, I’m right here.” Figwit did not know what ailed Lindir, but he would hold Lindir and comfort him.

Lindir accepted the comfort offered. “Yes, you are here.” Lindir said quietly. At least he would not lose Figwit like he lost Aron.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ever since then, Lindir had been through so much but at least he had not been alone. Figwit, no matter what happened, was always there to offer him comfort. But now here he was, in strange place with strange people and Figwit was no where to be found.

Lindir and Figwit were now free elves but what did it mean to be free? What was Lindir to do now that he was not to be a servant anymore? What did Figwit want to do? Would Figwit leave and return to his former life of roaming the wilds? After there adventure of cutting through mountains and vast wilderness just to get here to Mirkwood, Figwit had had enough of the wild. So the idea of living life as a wandering elf did not appeal to him in the least.

Being a servant was really all he knew how to do and now that he could never go back to Glorfindel, his life seemed pointless-pointless and empty. Then he looked at the harp. ‘I’m here’ the instrument seemed to say.

“Maybe I could start to play the harp again?” His heart gave a furious thump in his chest at the idea. Once more he might make beautiful music and sing. His fingers twitched, they yearned to once more make contact with harp Strings. Lindir reached out his hand to the harp, he had to pluck a string; just to hear one note would be heaven.

“Hello there, can I help you?” Said a Mirkwood elf who suddenly shuffled into the room.

Fear and panic set in so fast that Lindir completely forgot about the harp and took off running. He pushed past the elf and headed off not really caring what direction he was headed.

Was he being pursued, he did not know. All he did know was that he was scarred and Figwit was not with him. “Figwit, where are you,” Lindir cried out only to have his voice swallowed up by the empty hall way.

TBC in chapter 5
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