Cuil Eden

Title: Cuil Eden
Part: 55/?
Rating: NC-17
Series: Sequel to Anestel and Ethuil'waew
Pairing: Glorfindel/Legolas
Warnings: mpreg, bdsm
Disclaimer: All the pretty elves belong to Tolkien, I'm just playing with them and will give them back afterwards.
Lots of thanks to my beta for her hard work! :)

Like I promised, Glorfindel finally gets to play some more games... ;)


55

When they returned to where Arwen was still sitting, Glorfindel joined the game as well, so that Gîlríon shrieked with joy when he picked him up and whirled him through the air. Legolas was breathless, and resplendent in his happiness, and despite Haldir's well-founded doubts, Glorfindel knew that he could give Legolas a life of happiness. In any case, it would be better than the life he would have led in his father's forest, squandering his talents among the horse guards, in all probability only to be given away later to wed the daughter of some minor noble he could never love.

No... he would always regret how they had first met, how he had let anger blind him so that even when the youth had come to him carrying his child, he had kept abusing him. Yet all the same, he knew with perfect clarity that what there was now, love and joy and deep, abiding affection, was good and as it should be.

Haldir was right to voice his doubts, for Legolas was indeed dependent on him for all things, even his emotional well-being, but that, too, had its cause in events of the past. No... Glorfindel remembered Celeborn's counsel, to patiently and faithfully love the youth year after year until his fëa's wounds had healed, and he knew that that was what he would do – and that the Legolas he would come to know one day in the future who was submissive, yet certain of his worth, would have his love then, just as he did now.

He thought of what else Haldir had told him and wanted to sigh. The sword he had commissioned – he had so desired to make Legolas happy, especially since he had realized that it had been the youth's begetting day when he had stumbled across him in Mirkwood for the second time. His heart ached with pain when he thought of it now, how full of despair the youth had been then, how broken – he had not even dared to tell his family of how he had been violated! And then, to make it worse, he had forced Legolas to beg for it, and the youth had just given in, all alone out in the forest with one who delighted in hurting and humiliating him, when by all rights he should have been with his family, celebrating his begetting day.

The previous year, Glorfindel had not even known that it was his begetting day, although then, with Gîl's birth just a little more than a week past and Legolas still weak and sore, he had at least been tender and caring. Yet he had never even thought of asking the youth about the date of his conception, and so Legolas' first begetting day spent in Imladris had passed unacknowledged.

Glorfindel had much to make up for, and he had thought that surprising Legolas with a fine sword made to his measurements by one of the most renowned sword smiths of Middle-earth would at least be a beginning – certainly it would ensure that it would be the most joyful begetting day the youth had ever known.

Should he now get him a bow instead, or a twin set of long knives, as Haldir had suggested? Glorfindel gave Legolas a thoughtful look, realizing that the Galadhel had of course been right – Legolas had the slender gracefulness of the Silvan elves, and in time, hopefully their lethal quickness as well. Yet nevertheless he doubted that a bow or knives would be as welcome to the youth as the sword – to Legolas, it was not only a weapon, but also a symbol of all that he had ever wanted yet had been denied.

No, there would be time enough later to get him bow and knives. Glorfindel intended to bring Legolas joy on his begetting day, and that was what the sword would accomplish.

When the ball of cloth hit his chest, Glorfindel made a sound of surprise, and Gîlríon giggled in delight at seeing his atto so unprepared. The game of tag had been abandoned once more for the ball, and Glorfindel held it thoughtfully in his hands for a moment before he threw it to Legolas, smiling with helpless love at the youth's joy at something so simple. But then, in all probability he had not known very much of this in his own childhood...

When he caught the ball, Legolas deliberated for a moment before – with a look that was almost mischievous – he threw it to Haldir, who was sitting with Arwen. The guard only just barely managed to catch it, and they all had to laugh at his expression, especially the maidens, who beheld the infamous Marchwarden with trepidation as well as awe.

“Oh no,“ Haldir said grimly. “I am not going to play children's games with you, Prince!”

Legolas smiled... and Glorfindel felt his heart fill with warmth once more when he realized that Legolas felt so at ease in this company that he actually dared to tease the guard.

“Are you not to be my personal guard during my stay, Haldir?” Legolas asked, causing the maidens to giggle once more. “I might need your protection here!”

Haldir groaned but got up, wandering over to them with the ball in his hands. Arwen followed him to join in the game as well, and Haldir put the ball into her hands before he turned to Legolas with a smirk. “I doubt you need my protection here,” he drawled, “not with your besotted protector hovering over your every step.”

Legolas laughed at that and gave Glorfindel a tender look, much to Haldir's obvious disgust.

“Yet before I leave you to your game, Prince...Was the selection I purchased for you satisfactory? I hope it met with approval from such a connoisseur as your Lord...”

Now, at last, Legolas blushed – as beautifully as Glorfindel had foreseen - though he did not lower his eyes, he noted with pleasure.

“It did...” Legolas said, a little breathless at his own daring. “I have to thank you – your choice met with approval from both of us.”

Haldir's eyes narrowed again, as if he were trying to imagine Legolas as Glorfindel had seen him only such a short time ago – the tight body stretched to its limits as he was forced to accommodate the thick, unyielding handle of the flogger, and Glorfindel nearly groaned with sudden lust when he remembered the depth of his prince's submission.

“Very well!” Haldir murmured, sounding almost surprised. “I am of course at your disposal, and should you need advice for further purchases... I would be delighted to assist you. Yet for now, I think it is time for me to leave – I am certain you and your Lord will have a delightful evening playing games...”

Legolas blushed some more at that, but the glance he gave Glorfindel showed that he would not be averse to indeed indulge in some more games, once Gîl was asleep that evening – and Glorfindel felt his heart beat hard and fast with breathless excitement when he contemplated some of the other objects Haldir had purchased for them.

As Glorfindel had expected, with the excitement of visiting the market in the morning and the afternoon of games, Gîl had indeed tired himself out. They had a quick dinner in their talan of bread and cheese, and when they bathed the child afterwards, he was already half-asleep, tiredly snuggling into his bedding without even demanding the usual story and cuddling.

Glorfindel gently kissed his brow and then stood, making way for Legolas to do the same. “It was a good day, was it not?” he contentedly asked when they left the small room, tenderly touching the back of his hand to Legolas' cheek. The youth sighed and turned into his touch, raising his own hand to keep Glorfindel's in place.

“Very good,” he agreed softly with a smile of such sweetness that Glorfindel found himself kissing him before they had even closed the door to Gîl's small bedroom. As always, it was perfection – Legolas' surrendering to him so naturally, so gracefully, that Glorfindel felt drunk on his sweetness as if he were a fine wine.

“Legolas nín,” he whispered against his prince's lips when they finally parted. “Come – take that bottle of mead over there, and a goblet for us to share, and then let us retire to the sitting room for a while.” He himself stayed back for a moment to fetch the box with Haldir's purchases, a slow smile appearing on his lips as he mused over which of the various implements he should introduce to his bashful beloved today.

When he entered the sitting room with the familiar, dreaded parcel in his hands, Legolas made a soft sound of dismay and blushed so admirably that Glorfindel chuckled. “You truly make it irresistible!” he said warmly and put the box down on a table. Legolas had sat down on the settee, curled against a plump cushion with the filled goblet waiting in his hands, and when Glorfindel joined him, he first had to steal a kiss before he took a sip of the mead. “Mmh... you are still far sweeter,” he sighed, then watched with a smile how the youth tried to hide his blush behind the goblet, taking a deep drink of the golden liquid as well.

“Arwen has fallen in love with our Gîl, as does everyone who meets him,” Glorfindel said contentedly. “Once we return home, I think we will know many more afternoons like this. Ai, can you imagine that once it was she who was so little, chasing me through her mother's gardens?”

“I hope her brother will not disapprove,” Legolas said softly. “Yet she is beautiful, and kind, as you told me she was, and I would be glad to spend more days like this.”

“You will,” Glorfindel said warmly, pulling Legolas close so that the youth's back came to rest against his chest, laughing when Legolas gasped and clutched at the goblet with both hands to keep from spilling the mead.

“The best of the day is yet to come, though,” Glorfindel murmured against his ear, then indulged himself for a moment by following the lines of the elegantly curved tip with his tongue. Legolas shivered in his arms, still helplessly clutching the goblet, and at last Glorfindel had mercy and took it from his trembling hands, to put it down in a more secure place on the table.

“You... brought the parcel,” Legolas said weakly while Glorfindel's hands slowly moved across his chest to open the first button of his tunic. Glorfindel smiled again at the mixture of trepidation and excitement in his voice – he had not been certain how he would play with the youth today, but now, he had an idea. Not the humiliation of the flogger today, no, although the memory of the youth helplessly struggling to accommodate it, pleading for mercy with tears in his eyes, still set his heart to thunder in his chest with voracious desire. Yet that could wait for another time as well – after all the events of today, Glorfindel thought as he continued to bare Legolas' chest, his prince deserved something more playful, something that would give him pleasure foremost.

And then, there were Haldir's words about Legolas suckling another golden-locked child... Glorfindel wanted to groan as he imagined it, Legolas tenderly cradling another infant in his arms, his chest soft and swollen with his sweet milk, and although Glorfindel had indeed never felt desire for the curved body of a maiden, imagining the youth so changed, so sensitive once more had him achingly hard within mere moments.

“Ah, Valar!” he breathed absentmindedly, squeezing a bared, erect nipple between thumb and forefinger. “How I long to taste your sweet milk once more!” Legolas gave him an aching cry and arched into his touch with such need that Glorfindel distractedly wondered whether it were his fingers or indeed the thought of surrendering his body to his Lord in such an intimate way once more that aroused him so.

“You want it too, roch neth,” he said decisively, and Legolas moaned again when Glorfindel's fingers moved to tease the other nipple.

“Would you not like that? Tell me, Legolas!” Glorfindel demanded, pinching the erect nub so that Legolas gasped.

“Ai... I would!” he whimpered and demandingly pressed his chest against Glorfindel's hands for more.

Glorfindel chuckled softly against his neck. “I truly love your sensitivity!” he sighed. “Such sweet sounds you make when I do this...” He gently scratched across the offered nipple, laughing at Legolas' moan, and then pushed the youth into a sitting position again.

Legolas was beautiful... His eyes soft and dark with passion, lips swollen and bruised and his hair mussed from Glorfindel's fingers...

Glorfindel smirked as he deftly unbraided the slender braids of youth Legolas had put into his hair for the afternoon, then could not hold back a moan himself when his prince's hair finally fell free, spilling over his chest and back – the very picture of innocence, if it had not been for his bared, reddened nipples and the look of wanton need in his eyes.

“Ah, perfect, Legolas nín!” Glorfindel breathed, openly admiring the enchanting vision before him. He smiled again to see how tight Legolas' leggings had become and teasingly drew a finger along the bulge, chuckling when the youth gasped and tried to catch Glorfindel's hand to keep it pressed against his need.

“Becoming rebellious now, roch neth?” he asked wickedly and was answered with a look of dismay when he reached for the box. “I would be good, if I were you – Haldir left me just the right gear to break a willful colt's spirit...”

“I am not willful, my Lord!” Legolas said weakly, his eyes firmly fixed on Glorfindel's hands as they searched through the parcel, although Glorfindel took care to not let the youth see what was concealed inside.

After a moment, he found what he had been looking for and withdrew his hands, yet still kept what he had chosen hidden from Legolas' eyes.

“You have never known this before, roch neth... I think you will like this! Or perhaps not, but in that case I will, even more so.” He smirked at Legolas' soft moan and again reached out to tease a sensitive nipple with the pad of his thumb until Legolas closed his eyes and pressed his chest demandingly against his hands.

“Like that, do you?” he asked, Legolas' breathless moan of agreement making him chuckle once more, and then, with a wicked smile, he let the first clamp close around an achingly erect nipple.

Legolas' eyes flew open and he cried out softly, instinctively trying to flinch back from the painful pressure around this most tender of places – but there was no escape for him, not with Glorfindel's powerful body keeping him pressed against the backrest. Then Glorfindel touched him there, his fingers somehow increasing the pressure of the cruel metal until Legolas gasped and helplessly reached out as if to still his Lord's hands, his eyes gleaming with tears.

“Please...” he whispered, then closed his eyes in despair when Glorfindel laughed at his misery.

“Ah, poor Legolas,” Glorfindel said with a wicked smile. “I fear your Lord has a taste for your tears today...”

Legolas sobbed softly at his words, and when Glorfindel opened his palm to show another of the cruel little devices, he whimpered weakly and shook his head. “Ai! Please, no, my Lord... I cannot!” he breathed, tears brimming on his lashes like dew on grass in the morning, so that Glorfindel moaned once more at the loveliness of it all.

“I am not in a merciful mood today, roch neth,” he warned, his voice dark and hoarse with desire, and when he closed the clamp around the other nipple, Legolas once more arched against him with a soft cry, trembling and panting. Glorfindel adjusted the pressure to an even crueler level, and finally Legolas turned his head away in surrender, tears spilling down his face although his chest was still arched forward, obediently keeping himself available to his Lord's tormenting hands.

“Hush now, roch neth,” Glorfindel murmured at last and pulled Legolas close once more, holding the trembling youth until he had calmed a little, and the sharp bite of the clamps had faded into a duller ache. “See... that is better now, is it not? You will have to bear it for me, but not overly long, I promise you that.”

Legolas nodded miserably, well aware that he had no choice in the matter, and hid his tear-stained face against Glorfindel's throat for a moment, wanting only for his Lord to soothe him even though it had been he who was the cause of this pain.

“Ai, how shall I play with you now?” Glorfindel mused with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Mmh, roch neth, just imagine how it would feel if I took you like this, on your hands and knees, or bent over a table maybe – I could put weights onto the clamps, and they would swing and tug and ache just so, every time I moved within your sweet, tight body...”

Legolas gasped as if he had already done it and shook his head beseechingly. “Please, no, my Lord! I will do whatever you ask, but please, not that!”

“No heavy weights then? I think you would enjoy that, after you got used to it,” Glorfindel murmured thoughtfully, then laughed at the youth's dismay. “Very well, not the weights then. Actually, there is something else I would enjoy seeing – or rather, enjoy hearing on you!” He took up the box again and, to Legolas' dismayed disbelief, took out two small, golden bells on short chains.

“This will sound well as accompaniment to your sweet moans and whimpers – do you not think so, roch neth?”

“Ai, Valar...” Legolas breathed and closed his eyes, his face flushing once again with embarrassment as Glorfindel fastened the bells to the clamps.

“You can try not to move, but I do not think you will succeed,” Glorfindel said with a smirk. “You know I can become... inventive if you resist my will.”

Legolas swallowed, looking down at his chest – the cruel clamps so tight around the sensitive flesh, and in contrast the small, golden bells that looked so fragile, pretty even in contrast to the cold, polished metal of the tormenting devices.

“Pretty!” Glorfindel breathed now, as if he had read his thoughts. “Ah, Legolas vain nín... Does it embarrass you? If you do not like pretty jewelry, the next time you will just have to beg me for the weights...” He touched one finger to a cruelly squeezed nipple and laughed softly when that made Legolas gasp and try to move back, the bells tinkling for the first time.

“Mmh, just imagine that mingling with the sound of your moans,” Glorfindel teased. “I am going to enjoy playing with you so very much – and you will enjoy it too, roch neth, even though you blush and cry so.”

Legolas sighed in answer, his eyes falling closed as he surrendered himself to the magic of his Lord's husky voice. The clamps still ached, yet it was no longer the sharp pain from the beginning that had made him cry out... it was a duller ache now, ever-present but no longer so painful that it forced tears to his eyes. It was the kind of ache he had felt before, when Glorfindel had relentlessly teased him with fingers and teeth, and it made Legolas feel restless, wanting to flinch back from any touch yet desiring to arch into it all the same.

“Squirming with need... Just how I like you best,” Glorfindel murmured, his breath hot against his cheek. Legolas swallowed when once again a finger brushed against his swollen length, realizing only now that – despite what Glorfindel had done to him – he was achingly hard.

“Ah, Elbereth!” he breathed, ready to beg now to be used in any way his Lord pleased, and just at that moment there was a knock at the door, and a polite voice asking their forgiveness for the disturbance.

“Rúmil...” Glorfindel said with a frown while Legolas gave him a look of wide-eyed panic.

“Do not let him enter!” he pleaded. “Please, my Lord, you cannot – not like this! Please, take them off at least!”

Glorfindel only chuckled. “Ah, no, roch neth. I did say I wanted to break your willful spirit, and I think that these will make sure you are much better behaved while our visitor is around!”

He buttoned the tunic once more, smiling when Legolas hissed at the way the linen scratched across the tightly squeezed, oversensitive nipples, then got up and called out for Rúmil to enter while Legolas turned away in dismay, still unmistakably flushed and disheveled with frustrated need.

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atto - affectionate form of "father" [Quenya]
ada - affectionate form of "father" [Sindarin]
roch neth - colt
Legolas vain nín - my beautiful Legolas
Legolas nín - my Legolas
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