Cuil Eden

Title: Cuil Eden
Part: 43/?
Rating: PG-13
Series: Sequel to Anestel and Ethuil'waew
Pairing: Glorfindel/Legolas
Warnings: mpreg, d/s
Disclaimer: All the pretty elves belong to Tolkien, I'm just playing with them and will give them back afterwards.

Beta'd as usual by Calenharn Elflover, thank you! :)

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"Ready now, princeling? Or is there anything else you need to do first? Yrch will not wait until you have finished brushing your hair," Haldir said with another of his derisive smiles that made Legolas wish more than anything for the strength to beat him.

"I am ready - no, wait," Legolas added in dismay. "I cannot fight in this robe."

"Then take it off." Haldir rolled his eyes. "Unless, like a maiden, you are afraid of showing your body?"

There was some laughter at Haldir's remark, and although it was mostly goodnatured, yet still Legolas flushed with anger and shame.

Even though he most certainly was no maiden, he still did not want to take off his robe. He knew what would happen then. Haldir would stare at his nipples, even though he did not look so different from any other male youth now, and make some remark about suckling infants - like he had earlier.

And Legolas hated that. It was not that he was embarrassed about nursing a child - it did not make him female any more than a woman without a child was male, in his opinion - but it was something private, something only for him, his child and Glorfindel. He did not want someone like Haldir to make derisive comments about it, simply because Haldir had no right to do so.

No, he would not take off his robe - but he could not fight in it like this either, or he would certainly trip over it and fall. And he did not need to make it even easier for Haldir than it already was...

Impulsively, he gathered the hem of the robe up in his hand, using his sword to make two long cuts from the bottom up to his waist on each side. This way, he would be able to move in it, and as for the danger of tripping... Two more cuts, and the robe only reached to his knees now.

Legolas straightened in triumph. "Now I am ready.”

"Are you certain, prince?" Haldir inquired with a slow smile. "Maybe you need to rebraid your hair, or dab some scented oil onto your wrists...?"

"I said that I am ready," Legolas repeated heatedly. It was true, he would have liked to have worn braids in his hair, if only to show that he was no child, but he could fight just as well without them.

Haldir raised a brow at his tone, but did not react otherwise. "Very well then," he said and took a step back, their audience retreating as well to form a half-circle behind him. "Show me how you handle a real sword, prince."

Legolas raised his sword at the same time as Haldir, frowning at the unfamiliar weight. But then he let go of that thought, concentrating only on Haldir and his movements. He had been taught by Thalaron, and by Glorfindel himself. He would honor his teachers and fight well, even if it was obvious to everyone here that he was no match for Haldir.

For a moment he looked at the tip of Haldir's sword, watching the tiny movements as he tried to foresee the first attack - but then he remembered Thalaron's teaching.

How often had their teacher chided them for not looking into their opponent’s eyes? He claimed that they would be able to foretell a move from watching their eyes, and although Legolas had never been able to read more than anger, exhaustion, or the fierce desire to win in the face of his sparring partners, he did not doubt that Thalaron's words were true.

Still, even though he guessed that it would take him at least another decade to become the kind of warrior that could foretell attack moves from looking into another's eyes, there was no need to show Haldir his inexperience.

Once he met the Marchwarden's gaze, he was once again the victim of another mocking smile. Legolas felt rage curl inside his belly like a dark, poisonous fire. He had seen that smile before - when Haldir had hurt Celeirdúr. He had been helpless then; all he could do was to offer himself as victim in his brother's stead.

But he was no longer helpless. He was no longer a victim.

Silently, Legolas kept watching Haldir, waiting for him to make the first move. Haldir in turn seemed to be waiting for Legolas to open the fight - but Legolas was not that inexperienced, and not quite so enraged either. If he just stormed at Haldir with his sword raised high, the odds were that in the blink of an eye, he would be rubbing his wrist while his sword landed far out of his reach.

He had learned that lesson from Thalaron, and he would not repeat it with Haldir.

For another long moment they continued to watch each other expectantly, until finally their audience began to call out to them.

Now Legolas was the one who smiled, feeling like he had won the first round of the fight - because there was nothing they could do to make him attack first; there was no taunt strong enough to make him lose this advantage.

He could feel the heat of the sun shining down onto his head, a lazy breeze moving a few strands of hair, and hear the sounds made by the throng of warriors: shuffling, a few laughs, excited whispers.

The thought came suddenly, but strangely enough it did not surprise him: Legolas felt at home here. It was not all that different from the training field in Imladris, and Lórien's soldiers were like the guards he had come to know and like during the journey. He felt as if he belonged, and he knew that one day he would be a warrior like those who were now watching him - for how could it be otherwise, with a teacher like Glorfindel?

Haldir's first attack came suddenly, but Legolas parried it before he had even realized what he was doing. The sword came at him again, and again he parried, steel ringing as they exchanged those first few hits.

Legolas felt an involuntary smile form on his face. He might not be good at it, but that did not mean that he could not enjoy this. Oh, he knew that right now, Haldir was going more than easy on him; even Thalaron made it more difficult for him to keep up with during their practice drills. Haldir was testing him; he was not playing with him just yet, but that would certainly come once he had discovered the full extent of Legolas’ abilities.

But until then, Legolas resolved to do his teachers proud.

Again Haldir's sword flashed, and Legolas blocked it, dancing away from the blade when Haldir twirled to come at him from the side.

Legolas grinned, feeling a strange sense of exhilaration at the exchange. For a moment, he could even forget about Haldir's insults, because when a fight went like this, when each move was answered by countermove, each thrust by a parry, it became a dance, and Legolas felt as if he could lose himself in the beauty of it.

"Very good, prince," Haldir said with that exaggerated drawl of his that immediately shattered Legolas' mood. "So now we know that Thalaron let you hold a sword once or twice, for you know how to strike a beginner's pose."

Legolas pressed his lips together in annoyance, but refused to react to the taunt. He was not that green that he would attack Haldir in anger - and he had more than enough experience in living with that kind of insult.

"But I think our discussion earlier was not about swordfighting?" Haldir continued, and Legolas tried to hide his dismay by wiping the sweat from his brow, now that there was a short pause in the fight. He knew what would come next - Haldir was too malicious not to take advantage of the gathered crowd. Now he would humiliate him with his ability to bear children, in front of all of the gathered warriors.

Let him, Legolas thought tiredly, his earlier sense of belonging suddenly gone. It had been a fool's hope to even think of it - he might be a warrior one day, but he would never be one of them. He was different, and there was nothing that he could do to change it.

"I still think that there is a maiden hiding beneath that robe," Haldir continued and was answered by laughter.

"Do you not think that Glorfindel would know the difference?" one of the soldiers called out, and Haldir grinned.

"Ah, but he is ancient... he might have forgotten! I intend to find out for myself exactly just what Glorfindel has taken to his bed."

“You know who I am. After all, it was you who told Glorfindel." Legolas sighed wearily, realizing that there was nothing he could say to make Haldir relent. No matter what his excuse, the simple truth was that Haldir wanted to humiliate him and would do so in any way possible. Yet Legolas could not simply stay silent...

"What do you want to prove with this, Haldir? I know that you think that my life is of no worth, but if you were to kill me now, you would not only have to answer to my Lord - your Lord and Lady would not let it pass either."

There were some shocked gasps at his words, but Haldir only laughed. "Kill you? Why would I want to do that? Oh no, little prince, this is nothing but a friendly practice bout - and one which you suggested, if I may remind you. Neither my Lord nor my Lady, nor even Glorfindel can say anything against it."

He came at Legolas again, their swords clashing, and Haldir used the proximity to quietly threaten him. "I will not kill you, Legolas... but let us see if I cannot make you cry without drawing even a single drop of your blood."

Legolas jumped back, his eyes wide with shock. Maybe he had underestimated Haldir after all – maybe, in the end, he would not be able to bravely bear the impending humiliation?

Then he deliberately relaxed his grip on his sword again, the way Thalaron had shown him, his eyes narrowing with renewed determination. Haldir might threaten, but it was Legolas’ strength that would decide the outcome.

I will not cry! Legolas vowed silently, but then, when their duel started anew, all of his hope fled and was supplanted with the dreadful feeling that Haldir was right, and that he would cry.

For Haldir was more than just good with a sword. He might not be better than Glorfindel – nobody was better than Glorfindel with a sword! – but he was very, very good, and so very quick!

Legolas cried out in dismay when at his next feeble parry, Haldir effortlessly danced away from him, his sword all of a sudden coming at him from a totally different angle. Legolas gasped when the blade seemed to graze his side, but there was no pain, and it took another moment for him to realize what Haldir had done.

Haldir had cut through the belt that held his old robe closed, without even scratching his skin! Legolas took a step back in panic, the robe starting to slip from his shoulders, and when he grabbed at it with one hand to keep it wrapped around himself, Haldir laughed.

“So you cherish your modesty even over your defence?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his words, and Legolas realized that this was his choice. More than his skill with a sword, this decision was what would truly decide the fight for him. He could hold his robe closed with one hand, and try to fight with his sword in the other hand. It would be awkward and would leave him off-balance – and that with a sword that had already been too heavy for him even before they had begun to fight. Or he could take off the robe and allow Haldir to stare at him and mock him for his body – and bare the welts on his back to an audience who would no doubt ridicule him for it.

To surrender or to fight– it truly was the old choice.

Legolas straightened, his head raised defiantly as he let go of his robe. He did not move as it slipped from his shoulders, his gaze unwavering as he dared Haldir to make a comment about his body.

And of course, Haldir did not disappoint him.

“So – no maiden after all?” Haldir asked, staring blatantly at his chest, and Legolas had to fight the urge to cover himself with his arms – like a maiden. “But then, rumor has it that you suckled the babe yourself, so maybe you are just not very well developed?”

Some of the soldiers standing behind Haldir chuckled, but those that were standing where they could see Legolas’ back were silent, and that alarmed Legolas more than any of Haldir’s comments.

“I did,“ Legolas countered, for once too enraged to be embarrassed about the way that his body had changed then. “Though I do not know why that fact holds such an unhealthy fascination for you. If you want a family of your own, find an elleth who is willing to marry you. Or is that the problem? You cannot find anybody who would want you?”

Haldir’s eyes narrowed, and all of a sudden Legolas found himself trying to parry another flurry of thrusts. Already his arm ached from the weight of the sword and the force with which Haldir’s blade met his own, and after a few moments of this Legolas knew that he would not be able to hold out much longer. He knew that Haldir was still only playing with him – all those who were watching had to know it – but still he was already gasping for breath, and trembling from exertion.

And then Haldir moved forward again, his sword coming at him from high above, and when Legolas pulled his own sword up to meet Haldir’s attack, he realized too late that it had been a feint.

His blade caught against Haldir’s guard, and with what looked like nothing more but an effortless flick of his wrist, Haldir disarmed him.

Legolas wavered, but when Haldir advanced threateningly upon him, he retreated in a panic. He did not see his discarded robe and in his haste his feet entangled in it, felling him to the ground. He groaned with relief to see his sword lying near him, but just when he reached out to wrap his fingers around the hilt, he felt the sharp tip of Haldir’s blade coming to rest against his throat.

“So, Legolas,” Haldir said, and Legolas could hear the sneer in his voice when he spoke his name. “It seems to me that I have won. Do you yield?”

Haldir pulled his sword away from Legolas throat, so that the youth would be able to take up his own sword again if he wanted to. “Or do you want to continue this farce?”

Legolas had almost been glad that it was finally over, but now there was a fierce anger in his belly that would not let him surrender. With a defiant growl he closed his fingers around the hilt – but then he felt Haldir’s sword again, this time at his belly.

Slowly, Legolas looked up, his fingers tightly curled around his weapon once more – and yet it was too late to defend himself. For one long moment of disbelieving fear, he watched as the tip of Haldir’s sword moved further down towards his groin.

Legolas held his breath. Certainly Haldir would not...

And then, with another quick movement, Haldir pulled his sword back, angling it in such a way that the blade sliced through most of the lacing that held Legolas’ leggings closed.

This time, Legolas was not able to suppress his gasp of fear, and he pressed one hand protectively against his groin while he tried to scramble back.

“So, stand up and let us see then what you are hiding,” Haldir drawled. “No need to be shy – one thing that everybody knows, after all, is the fact that you are no virgin.”

Slowly, painfully, Legolas forced himself to get up. The leggings slipped down when he stood, baring him completely to Haldir – baring him to the gaze of everyone who had watched the duel.

“No maiden after all? But I could swear that I saw you with a child in your arms just moments ago,” Haldir said with feigned surprise.

Legolas smiled almost sadly. He had tried to be courageous, had tried to be honorable – but what he had not thought of was that Haldir might choose not to act honorably.

There were tears in his eyes now, just as Haldir had so hatefully predicted, but instead of the hot glow of embarrassment, there was only a coldness inside him.

“You have won, Haldir,” he said tonelessly. “You have even made me cry, like you wanted. Is it enough now? I thought to preserve my honor by agreeing to fight you, but instead you have taught me that there is no honor to be had in fighting the likes of you.”

Legolas realized that he was trembling, but he did not feel any fear – he only felt numb. He closed his eyes, giving in to resignation at last. “Let me go, Haldir,” he whispered, the tears running down his cheeks. “I will beg if that is what you want...”