Cuil Eden

51


Slowly, Glorfindel pulled out the flogger, being careful not to hurt Legolas although the youth was so relaxed and exhausted now that he only moaned tiredly at the sensation. He was beautiful still although the pleasure was gone - or maybe even more so now, resting trustingly on the bed, his skin flushed and glistening with sweat, his surrender still so complete that it made Glorfindel's heart ache.

Awed, Glorfindel shook his head. He had never experienced anything like this. Seeing the youth so defenseless, he wanted to ravish him as if he were a wild animal, forcing him roughly into submission and taking him hard until Legolas cried, and yet at the same time he wanted to hold him close and shelter him with the tender care he would show a wounded bird.

"My Legolas... How you have bewitched me," he whispered, swallowing against the tightness in his throat. "I think of you whenever I am apart from you... I think of you lying in my bed, like this, so vulnerable, so beautiful, and I yearn to return to your side so I can embrace you and hold you close."

"My Lord..." Legolas sighed, his head turning towards Glorfindel, smiling when fingers touched his cheek.

"I am yours – I am all yours, to do with whatever you please," he sighed, sleepily moving against Glorfindel in invitation.

"Mmh... do you want this then?" Glorfindel asked in a purr, groaning against Legolas' neck as he let him feel how hard he was. "Do you want this inside you? Do you think you can please me that way?"

"Oh, yes! Please, my Lord!" Legolas moaned, feeling languid with release but still not satisfied – it was not lust now, not desire, but something deeper, something that could only be satisfied by the feel of his Lord finding his pleasure inside him.

He was still wearing the blindfold, and even though his Lord no longer required him to lie motionless, being unable to see added a new level of intensity to every word and touch. Even more so than earlier he wanted to please Glorfindel now, and when finally his Lord slid inside him, he moaned softly, the ache of being invaded satisfying the all-encompassing need to surrender himself completely.

And there could be nothing more complete than this, moving with Glorfindel's thrusts, feeling his breath against his nape, listening to the sounds of his pleasure. Glorfindel possessed him body and soul, and he cherished this proof of it with all his heart.

When his Lord finally found release, Legolas moaned as well, moved by a powerful feeling that was not unlike climax yet at the same time totally different. They did not move for a while afterwards, silently resting together, still joined, and Legolas sighed in tired appreciation of how his Lord still felt so huge inside him, even though he was softening.

“Thank you,” he said softly, arching against his Lord’s body in tired satisfaction. He felt exhausted and sweaty and so very, very good – he had truly been well-used, and he reveled in the feeling.

Glorfindel murmured something against his skin in answer, and Legolas laughed softly.

“Have I exhausted you, my Lord?” he asked, smiling when Glorfindel snorted. Then his Lord’s hands reached up into his hair and gently pulled the blindfold off, and Legolas sighed again when he was rewarded with a kiss to his temple.

“I really hope you enjoyed this as much as I did, because I have never seen you look so beautiful as when you surrendered yourself to me so completely,” Glorfindel breathed into his ear.

Legolas closed his eyes and smiled. “How can you doubt it? You saw how I enjoyed it.”

Glorfindel’s arms came around him, his Lord’s hair tickling him where it spilled onto his shoulder and chest, and he took a deep breath, resolving to be truthful with his Lord, and to not let fear make him fall silent. Only a few hours ago he had thought that he would die, that he would never see his Lord again, and remembering what he had felt when he saw the blade moving towards him, he forced himself to speak.

“I feel tired and used and sore, my Lord, and I love it. I love how you feel inside me, I love how you force me to experience things I am too afraid to ask for.” His heart was beating faster in his chest, and he did not dare to turn his head to meet his Lord’s eyes, even though he trusted him – did he not? He knew that Glorfindel would never take his words and use them to hurt him, but he remembered others who had, one of them a horse guard whom he had once thought of as a friend, and he swallowed.

Glorfindel was not like that. He had trusted Glorfindel with his body, with his life, with his child – why was it so hard then to trust him with the secrets of his heart?

“I loved it when you tied my hands!” he recklessly continued, “and I loved it to kneel and plead! And I am grateful, my Lord, so very grateful, for all that you give me!”

“Grateful, hmm?” Glorfindel asked against his shoulder, but his Lord’s arms embraced him more tightly, and it was obvious that he was teasing when he continued.

“I had hoped for more than gratitude, roch neth… I would hate hearing that you surrender to me because you are grateful.”

“It is not like that, my Lord, truly!” Legolas exclaimed and now finally turned around. The motion caused Glorfindel’s softened length to slip out of him so that he sighed in regret, but Glorfindel’s warm smile made up for the loss.

“No? What is it like then?”

Legolas sighed again at his Lord’s playful tone, raising a hand to reverently run it through his golden locks.

"I am yours, my Lord... Not because I am afraid, not because you force me, but because that is exactly what I want to be. I want to be yours! I have never known such happiness before. I love you, my Lord, more than I ever thought was possible."

"My Legolas..." Glorfindel whispered, moved by an emotion so strong and deep that he began to trail his fingers over Legolas' cheeks and lips, as if to assure himself that he was truly there.

Be mine forever, he found himself wanting to say, and only at that moment did he realize what it meant so that he fell silent instead, gazing at the beautiful youth in his arms with a new awareness.

He did mean it. He wanted it, more than he had ever wanted anything... He simply could not imagine anymore what it would be like to live without Legolas by his side and in his bed.

Could it be done, though? Was it possible with matters as they now stood? And yet, with what had happened, with what he had done, how could he even contemplate not honoring the boy the way he should have right from the beginning?

The thought was overwhelming, yet not because it scared him. It was an enormous thought, a thought that could change his life for centuries, millennia, until Arda was unmade – yet when he thought about walking with Legolas along the shore of Valinor, as he had already sworn he would, he found that he was filled with a deep, quiet joy.

He wanted it. He wanted Legolas to be his, for all eternity. Every sigh of pleasure, every uncertain touch, he wanted to hear them, feel them, be the cause for all of them.

"Yours," Legolas vowed quietly, and Glorfindel moved to kiss him, keeping the words to himself until a better time to speak them. There would be recognition and honor for all that Legolas had given him – he would make certain of that.

As for how it could be done... Glorfindel resolved to have a talk with Celeborn. He knew that there was nothing the Lord could say that would change his mind, for this was not a new idea that had suddenly sprung up but a deeper truth of which Glorfindel had been aware of for a long time now if he was honest with himself. Yet Celeborn’s view might still be helpful, especially as he desired that it be something that would bring nothing but joy to Legolas.

There had been so much pain in the youth's life, much of it caused by himself in thoughtless cruelty, and Glorfindel felt humbled by the wave of tenderness that now swept through him when he looked at Legolas.

"You are so finely made," he whispered, reverently following the lines of Legolas' cheekbones with a fingertip. "As if the Valar poured all the beauty there is in Arda into your creation, paying attention to every little detail... I could look at you for hours and still find something that will make me burn for you as if I saw you for the first time."

Legolas blushed at his words, still – after all this time with him – so unused to compliments that a part of him was uncertain whether it was only a jest, and Glorfindel resolved that this as well was a habit that he would find great delight in overcoming.

"Burn for me?" Legolas asked softly, a corner of his mouth twitching slightly in amusement at the wording. "Do you, then?"

"Do you doubt it?" Glorfindel asked in return, raising a brow and allowing himself to give the youth a hungry look. Even though he was exhausted, the truth was that a few more moments of contemplating his prince's amenities and he would indeed be burning for his embrace once more.

"It is as if you were made solely for me to find pleasure in," he exclaimed in wonder. "I wager that I could spend a week pursuing orcs without a single hour of sleep, and still rouse to your touch as eager as a young stag.”

Legolas smiled then, a slow, secretive smile. "And that is something I love, too," he breathed, half-closing his eyes in languid desire as he took his Lord's hand and moved it down between their bodies, proving that indeed he was hard and aching for his Lord's touch once more now.