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Pen-Estel

By: Espip
folder -Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 35
Views: 18,577
Reviews: 55
Recommended: 1
Currently Reading: 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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Chapter 7

Thank you for your comments, Nim! I hope you will continue to enjoy the story! :)

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Legolas sighed in relief when he found the nursemaid Glorfindel had once presented to him in the room. She had apparently been trying to distract Gîlríon without much success, as she gave Legolas a grateful look and then quickly left the room, so that he could calm his son.

“Gîl...” Legolas whispered and took him from his bed, holding him close and pressing a kiss to his head while the child was already hungrily nuzzling his chest.

Legolas giggled, although there were tears in his eyes. “Are you very hungry? I am sorry... You do not know how much I already miss you! I wish you were old enough to understand that I am forced to stay away – I would never leave you otherwise!”

He looked at the tiny child and felt as if his heart would break. “I did not want all of this – I am so sorry, Gîl!” he whispered, and then was silent while the child was greedily suckling. Glorfindel was not there, and he was grateful for that at least. To see him, to realise once again what he had lost... He did not think that he could bear that, and was glad for the small mercy of being left alone with his son, even if he knew that he deserved no mercy or compassion for his betrayal.

He rocked Gîl in his arms gently, and was secretly thankful when his child didn’t fall asleep straight away, as it meant he had a reason to spend more time here. Gîl moved in his arms restlessly, so he walked to the windows.

“Do you miss the garden already?” Legolas asked indulgently when Gîl put his small podgy hands out to touch the glass. His hands curled into little fists as if he would bang against it, and Legolas moved back quickly laughing.

“We won’t be able to keep you locked inside, will we?” He rubbed Gîl’s back soothingly as he walked around, pretending to himself that this was still his place. It was so easy while Glorfindel wasn’t here. He could be waiting for him to return – except that he was dressed.

He continued to talk to Gîl until he realised that his child had grown warm and heavy in his arms. Legolas laid him down, and backed away from the cot, leaving the door to his room part way open. He didn’t have any fears about Gîl’s care – Glorfindel was a marvellous father.

I should leave, he thought, still wandering around. But the temptation to believe in a dream was too close, and with a defeated sigh he lay down on the bed, breathing in deeply. Glorfindel must have rested here already, perhaps after leaving Elrond’s rooms earlier… He thought of Glorfindel leaving, and coming here to lay down on the bed alone, and he curled up as though he could be with the memory of his lover.

He wept as though his soul was being pulled apart. How could this ever be right again? Only the sudden dread of Glorfindel finding him here, on his bed, made him move at last. He would only be proving Glorfindel right if he lay here waiting for the Lord to claim him. Sadly, he got up, and having nothing else to do, he left Glorfindel’s rooms, pausing to knock on the nurse’s door to let her know he was leaving, and made his way back to Elrond with a heavy heart.

Elrond was not yet asleep when he returned, but Legolas now felt so weary that he did not even want to talk anymore – all he wanted was sleep. Slowly he undressed, and it took a lot of willpower to not just let his clothes fall to the floor and leave them there for the servants to find.

With a deep sigh, he finally slipped beneath the bedcovers and let himself be drawn into Elrond’s arms.

“Are you well, pen neth?” the Lord asked softly. “Did you meet him?”

“No,” Legolas answered in a whisper. “I was alone with Gîl, and he fell asleep after some time. Please, do not worry about me, I am just very tired now.”

“Then sleep,” Elrond said affectionately and pressed a kiss to his brow. “No bad dreams tonight, Legolas, I will stay with you and keep you safe.” Legolas smiled, and just before he fell asleep, he realised that once again, he could feel the warmth of Elrond’s hand against his belly.

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The door opened, and Glorfindel slid stealthily into Elrond’s private suite of rooms. He wasn’t really sure what he was doing here – perhaps he just wanted to see what kind of little nest they had made for themselves in his absence, he thought with a twisted grimace. He spied Legolas straight away; his silver hair gleamed in the moonlight that poured through the open curtains. Creeping closer, Glorfindel finally smiled, realising that even asleep in Elrond’s arms, Legolas was beautiful.

But Legolas was no longer his. That thought made the smile vanish from his face, but as if the choice wasn’t his either, he couldn’t help getting closer still… until he was lying down fully clothed beside Legolas. But the movement on the bed had an undesirable effect, and Glorfindel found himself looking insolently into Elrond’s eyes. He almost laughed, except he didn’t want to wake Legolas.

“I will come and go where and when I choose,” he mouthed silently, and Elrond didn’t challenge him. The Lord of Imladris’ hand was resting on Legolas’ hip, and now that hold tightened, as if he would pull Legolas closer to protect him.

“What do you want here, Glorfindel?” he asked, coldly, but still without daring to insist that Glorfindel left. As if in response to Elrond’s touch, Legolas moaned in his sleep, and moved back a little, wriggling closer to Elrond so that the Lord’s attention was taken away from Glorfindel, and he sighed in obvious desire, dropping his head to kiss Legolas’ hair… affectionately. Glorfindel smirked at that telltale little display, and had a wicked idea. He almost disregarded it, but then he remembered what they had done – what Legolas had done – to him, and so why shouldn’t he hurt and humiliate the Prince a little?

“I wanted to see how he is – after all, I trained him myself, and I want to make sure that he is treated the way he deserves.” Glorfindel smiled at that last word, but it was a cold smile. “After all, I do that for every young horse I’ve broken in and given away, as you well know.”

“That is quite touching, Glorfindel, but as you can see, he has everything he needs.”

There was no doubt now – that really was jealousy in Elrond’s voice, and Glorfindel allowed himself a small laugh at the absurdity of it.

“Believe me, Elrond... I know exactly what he needs!” he whispered fiercely, all traces of humour gone now. “He needs a strict master with a firm hand, for he is so weak that just about anyone will take advantage of him otherwise! Can you be that for him? Can you give him the discipline that he craves?”

“Let me watch you take him,” Glorfindel suggested quietly when Elrond didn’t answer. “I know you want to.” Elrond looked back at him, and Glorfindel celebrated when he realised that Elrond wasn’t going to deny him his request. Quite rightly, Elrond realised he had no place making this more than it was. He had lost that right by denying it Glorfindel.

“It will hurt him like this,” Elrond said slowly, but still not refusing, relying on Glorfindel to see sense.

“Yes,” Glorfindel replied, quite taken with the idea. Really, he hadn’t imagined anything like this when he came in, but now he was glad he had invaded their privacy. It would be worth having to watch it just to see Legolas’ tears. “Do it,” he stated, in the manner of a command.

He moved closer still, so that the youth’s body heat surrounded him, and pulled one of Legolas’ legs to rest on his hip, making it easy for Elrond to claim him. He watched as Elrond embraced the Prince from behind, closing his eyes briefly in regret before suddenly pushing Legolas forward and up. Legolas cried out immediately in pain, and before his eyes widened in wakefulness, he spoke one word.

“Glorfindel,” he moaned, in a hurt tone of voice. Elrond looked back at him then, as if gloating that Legolas spoke his name in response to pain. Glorfindel shrugged carelessly, and smirked again, turning his attention to Legolas now because the Prince was awakening at last. His hands had crept up to wind themselves around Glorfindel’s neck as Elrond took him, and it was perfect. Glorfindel waited for Legolas to realise whom he was looking at.

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In his dreams, Legolas was being overwhelmed. Despite his earlier experience, he didn’t have guilt-filled dreams at all. Maybe Glorfindel’s cruelty earlier had a hand in that, but his dreams weren’t nightmares.

Instead, he was with them both in Elrond’s bed. He knew he was dreaming, but he couldn’t deny the fantasy – it was such a perfect dream! He felt Glorfindel behind him, hurriedly preparing him with his fingers, or testing him. But there was no oil, and Legolas almost panicked when he felt the fingers retreat and Glorfindel was going to take him. It would hurt! But then he relaxed again; remembering that this was a dream. Elrond pulled at his leg, holding it in place on his hip so that Glorfindel would have him open and stretched, ready to take all of him…

Legolas cried out, unable to stop himself. He called out Glorfindel’s name, and his hands crept up of their own accord to embrace Elrond as if to ask for protection, because despite the fact that this was a dream, it did hurt – too much – and at that point Legolas realised this was no dream.

He sobbed when he realised that he was looking into Glorfindel’s eyes and closed his own as if to deny what he was seeing. But this was a dream no more – this was reality. “Elrond!” he whimpered, feeling a deeper sense of betrayal than what he had felt when Glorfindel and Elrond had discussed him as if he were a thing they possessed.

“No!” he sobbed, shaking his head as if his protest would stop them – but he knew they would not stop. Nothing he had ever said or done had been able to stop them when they were hurting him. But why? Why would Elrond do this to him? Had he not been so very happy about the child mere hours ago? It could not have been a lie – he refused to believe that!

But it hurt so much like this, without preparation, and the pain left him unable to think. “Why?” he finally whimpered, his eyes still firmly shut, and for a moment he remembered how it had been that first time, when he had almost let go. If only he had died then... what pain, what humiliation that would have saved him!

But it was too late for that now, there would be no escape, not as long as there was another child, and he sobbed breathlessly as he realised that once again, he was trapped in just the same way, only that it now was Elrond instead of Glorfindel who hurt him so.

Glorfindel forced his head upward by wrapping one large hand around his neck and using his thumb to raise Legolas’ chin.

“Open your eyes for me,” he commanded, and Legolas couldn’t help but obey. Now he remembered what he had done to Glorfindel. The tears fell as Glorfindel watched him coldly, and Legolas whimpered.

“Good,” he said, and more tears came then, as much for the burning pain of Elrond taking him like this as for the knowledge that Glorfindel was angry with him and would probably never forgive him. “I want to see you cry.”

Legolas sobbed in answer, feeling wretched and miserable when Glorfindel laughed at him. He tried to move then, but found they both held him in place.

“Please, my Lords!” He begged them both, not really knowing who to appeal to anymore. He looked into Glorfindel’s eyes desperately, and with every bit of pain that Elrond caused him, it was as though Glorfindel was using Elrond to hurt him. Elrond was pushing him forward, and so he felt how hard and ready Glorfindel was against him, but he knew Glorfindel would not take him now. “I’m sorry!” he declared tearfully. “Please, make it stop! I’m so sorry!”

But instead of it getting any easier, Glorfindel only let go of his neck and moved his hand down to Legolas’ chest. There he rubbed the pad of his thumb over one of Legolas’ nipples until he moaned submissively.

“Yes, moan for me,” Glorfindel commanded. “Just as though you were enjoying it – that’s right…” Legolas couldn’t help giving Glorfindel just what he wanted, but he would never withhold anything from him anyway – and especially not now. He was about to plead again, but then Glorfindel was kissing him, and he was overjoyed to have this chance to please his Lord. He let Glorfindel take everything he wanted. Just forgive me! He wanted to shout it. But although he cried out into the kiss, it wasn’t to ask for forgiveness. As Glorfindel kissed him, his fingers pinched Legolas’ nipple cruelly. So hard that he forgot everything else – even the pain of Elrond taking him.

He almost screamed, and Glorfindel drew back, still maintaining that terrible vice-like grip. Legolas heard Elrond moan behind him, and realised that his body had tensed in response to the pain, giving the Lord more pleasure. “Please,” he begged Glorfindel again. In response he felt the fingers begin to roll around his sensitive flesh, and he screamed again, this time silently.

He struggled now, trying to get away from the terrible pain – but he could not get away from them. Glorfindel only laughed and held his wrists down with one of his hands, while the fingers of his other hand continued to torture his nipple.

Legolas gasped for breath, terrified now, but the only reaction to his struggling was that Elrond moaned, and took him harder – as if he had forgotten that it was Legolas he was hurting, whom he had promised to protect only a few hours ago!

Legolas saw it now what Glorfindel was doing to him – even if he knew that Elrond did not love him, he still had come to care for the Lord who could be both so stern in public and yet so gentle in the bedchamber. But now, that would never be... how could he ever trust Elrond after this? Glorfindel had destroyed it for him. There would be no happiness for him, anywhere, with anybody.

“Please...” he moaned again, his eyes dark with pain, “anything, I’ll do anything, just make it stop...”

“Are you sure you want me to stop?” Glorfindel deliberated sarcastically, and Legolas groaned, feeling drawn out from the torture now. Soon it wouldn’t matter if it carried on or not. “But your responses are so rewarding. Can you feel how your body’s reactions are encouraging Elrond?” And he could. Elrond was taking him faster and more demandingly now, groaning as his release came ever closer. Legolas only trembled and tried to catch his breath as Glorfindel carried on speaking, no longer having the temerity to ask for his Lord’s mercy.

“No, you were made to be hurt, cunneth,” he said with a little laugh as Legolas submissively leaned closer, towards the cruelty, whimpering again. “And you want me to hurt you, don’t you? Tell me you want it… Let Elrond hear you,” he demanded, the fingers becoming just a little tighter so that Legolas moaned not in pleasure, but something that was almost the same. He imagined Glorfindel letting go, and he realised that he didn’t want it to happen, even though the pain was unbearable.

“No,” he moaned, and then remembered the question. “I mean, yes,” he sighed, completely confused. It felt like he was on the edge of release, but he knew he wasn’t even hard. He felt Elrond getting bigger and harder inside him, Glorfindel’s other hand left his wrists to move down and torment his other nipple in the same cruel way, and it was like ecstasy. Legolas tightened around Elrond as he came, sighing at the pain as though it were pleasure, and he knew that if Glorfindel only asked, he would beg for more of it.

“You want me to hurt you,” Glorfindel said again, this time he sounded more sincere, and he stared at Legolas as though there were only the two of them. He rolled his fingers again, hurting, and Legolas cried out softly. His breathing stalled and his eyelids fluttered as though he were finding his pleasure.

“Yes,” he moaned at last, feeling a kind of euphoria sweep through his body when Glorfindel didn’t slacken his cruel hold. It was like orgasm, but so much slower, and he wanted it so much! “Please, don’t stop… more,” he begged, out of his mind at the sensation. He knew he would faint soon, but he wanted it all first. Yet despite his plea, Glorfindel suddenly let him go, and Legolas moaned in want and need. Not now!

He felt bereft of something important, and he cried out again in misery as the pain changed, and became fiery and hot instead of blunt and almost cold. It was too much! “Please!” he begged desperately, his eyes closing in agony, but he couldn’t say what he begged for. He didn’t know if Glorfindel left the room. Certainly, the bed became cold before him and he knew that Glorfindel had moved away. Through the terrible pain, he felt Elrond encouraging him to turn around, and he did so, only to tremble as Elrond pressed gentle kisses to his forehead, hoping that Glorfindel couldn’t see him taking comfort from the Lord of Imladris.

“I am sorry, Legolas,” he said softly, tears in his own voice, and Legolas only sobbed in his arms. As he rested there, he became aware of how he was surrounded by both Elrond’s and Glorfindel’s scent, and it confused him. He felt pulled in two different directions, because he didn’t know which of them he needed. Elrond examined him in the moonlight, hissing in sympathy as he looked down at Legolas’ chest. Legolas cried out again when Elrond brushed one of his fingers against the bruised, abused flesh, but he still couldn’t help wanting it. And as Elrond examined him, forcing the strange painful pleasure on him, he felt that same irresistible euphoria and need for it to carry on.

“This will hurt when you have to feed Gîl,” Elrond observed, swallowing, and moved away to light a candle. In the soft, flickering light, Legolas looked around and saw that Glorfindel had indeed left the room. He looked to Elrond, who had come back to the bed with something from the bathroom. It was a small pot of salve, and he backed away cautiously, only for Elrond to catch him and hold him still while he applied it.

“Be still!” he admonished, holding Legolas’ arms down to the bed with one hand. “I will try not to hurt you,” he said sympathetically, but it was impossible not to cry when he felt Elrond touching him there, even so gently and carefully.

“Please,” he moaned for the last time, and then began to drift away at last, the pain seeming distant and inconsequential now. “Hurt me.” And it did carry on as he fell into a faint; he was only sorry that it was Elrond and not Glorfindel causing it.
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