Cuil Eden

75

Warmth was the first thing Legolas was aware of when he woke. The warmth of Glorfindel's embrace, as well as the warmth of his love which had shone on him like the sun while he had walked through dreams by his Lord's side, crossing from verdant forests to gardens filled with strange, bright flowers.

As in his dreams, Glorfindel was by his side in the waking world as well, an arm possessively draped across his waist so that he could not have escaped if he had wanted to. And he did not want to. Instead, Glorfindel's possessiveness made it easier to simply accept the love and affection that was offered, and Legolas snuggled into Glorfindel's embrace, banishing all thoughts from his mind in order to simply enjoy this precious moment where nothing but happiness seemed to exist.

Of course, it did not last for long. While the first rays of the morning sun moved slowly across the room, teasing the strands of Glorfindel's hair to a brilliant, golden gleam, Legolas could not help but remember what had happened the day before, and with the memory came shame. To break down like that in front of so many... No matter what kind words they had said, Legolas knew that his behavior had been pathetic. He flinched when he thought of what they had to think of him – would they tell others how he had behaved? It had felt freeing to weep in Glorfindel's arms, and yet he could not help but feel ashamed for it now in the light of day.

He forced the thoughts back. He did not know how to stop thinking like this, but for now, he knew how to distract himself with other things. A part of him still felt shy even though he was alone with Glorfindel – even though Glorfindel was asleep still, and unaware of what Legolas planned. And yet, even after all this time, it was hard not to feel self-conscious when he was the one to instigate intimacy. Everything was so much easier when Glorfindel commanded his body, so that all he had to do was to obey and experience...

Legolas chided himself for a coward. This was ludicrous. After all, he knew exactly how much Glorfindel was going to enjoy what he wanted to do. He sat up, gently extricating himself from his Lord's arms, and drew back the sheet, uncovering that finely made body to his gaze. Glorfindel's skin gleamed golden in the sun, and Legolas' mouth felt dry with sudden, aching hunger at the perfection of his body, strong muscles chiseled as if by a master artisan. There was no being on Arda more glorious than this, he thought breathlessly, and pressed a tender kiss to Glorfindel's length, still soft and unwontedly vulnerable. He breathed in Glorfindel's scent, the musk rising from the golden curls at the base of his shaft, and then enveloped him in his mouth. Glorfindel made a soft, murmuring sound of pleasure, and Legolas wondered for a moment what his Lord was seeing in his dream. But then he concentrated fully on the pleasure of feeling Glorfindel like this – and a pleasure it was, the way Glorfindel was taking over his senses, the heat of him in his mouth, the texture of soft silk over hard steel, his taste on his tongue...

Legolas moaned deep in his throat at the way Glorfindel had begun to harden at his first touch, the knowledge of how he was pleasing his Lord adding to the pleasure of feeling him, tasting him like this. How could he not enjoy this?

And yet, once he had not... He hesitated for a moment when the memory came unbidden over him, threatening to drench him like an icy shower in winter, taking all pleasure he had felt with it. He remembered the first time, Glorfindel's hand in his hair, a shame so vast that he had felt lightheaded with it, stumbling along the side of a precipice that ever beckoned. He had not given in to the lure of the darkness that called his soul, but the shame of doing what Glorfindel had forced him to do had left him feeling sick to the bottom of his soul.

How had that changed? It should have seemed impossible, and Legolas felt shame rise up anew, but back then, he had been given no choice but to do what was asked of him, no matter what it was. And when Glorfindel used his body, it had been without thought for Legolas' comfort or pleasure, save when he could use the pleasure Legolas felt too further shame him.

Yet being told to serve Glorfindel with his mouth had not been as intimate, as shameful or even as painful than to lie helplessly beneath the lord, his body and his soul forced wide open while his lord used and abused him for his own pleasure. Legolas had quickly come to prefer to use his mouth instead then, no matter how shameful it had felt, for even if Glorfindel would still use him afterward, with his passion already mostly sated he would be less forceful.

Legolas allowed Glorfindel's hard length to slip from his mouth, feeling cold and unsettled all of a sudden. Why was he thinking of it now? That was the past... A past he did not want to think about. Shame curdled in his stomach and he slowly shook his head as if to force the memories away, desperately trying to think of something else. His gaze fell on Glorfindel, who had made a sound of complaint when Legolas had drawn back, his eyes slowly clearing when he left his dreams behind, and Legolas felt his heart racing in his chest with shame and despair and desperate need of this one man who seemed to believe that he was of any worth.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice near breaking, moving back into Glorfindel's embrace. “Take me, please... I need to feel you!”

Glorfindel groaned softly, blindly biting at Legolas' lower lip while his erection slid against his thigh.

“Turn around,” he then commanded hoarsely, and without further wait, as if he could feel the depth of Legolas' despairing need for him, slid deep inside him as soon as the youth obeyed. The slickness of Legolas' saliva eased the entrance somewhat, but not as much as oil would have, so that Legolas felt every painful inch of Glorfindel's shaft take possession of him with an aching, raw immediacy. And oh, how he wanted it, wanted it all, even the pain...

He whimpered, tossing his head with need, unable to squirm because Glorfindel's strong hands held him relentlessly in place, forced him to take all of his Lord's impressive length until he gasped with the impossible feeling of fulness and grasped his own thigh with one hand, spreading himself open for Glorfindel in submissive invitation.

This was what he wanted. This was what he needed! To forget, to be unable to think because Glorfindel overwhelmed every single one of his senses, until he was nothing but trembling need and surrender, unable to do anything but accept whatever Glorfindel chose to give him, all the sensation, all the pain, all the ecstasy. To be nothing but a thing to be used, a thing to please... He moaned, whimpered, turned his face into a pillow to stifle his cries, spreading himself open further, needing Glorfindel, needing him deeper, needing him harder...

He was nothing but surrender now, nothing but sensation, floating between pleasure and pain, completely owned, and then he felt Glorfindel touching him with a slick finger, stroking along the tightly stretched muscle while he slowly moved in and out with forceful thrusts that made Legolas ache to the bottom of his soul – and then, oh! He sobbed, begged, feeling broken and completely open to Glorfindel when he felt one finger enter him as well alongside Glorfindel's hard shaft, forcing him open further than what he had ever felt before, so that all he could do was gasp and quiver and let it happen.

He had no recollection of what happened after that. All he remembered was white-hot pleasure, a sensation almost too intense to be borne, and floating on a cloud of sated pleasure afterward, too overwhelmed even for thought.

Regaining his senses felt much like coming out of a faint, and he tiredly moved his head to lean it against Glorfindel's shoulder, closing his eyes as he breathed in the comforting, familiar scent. For a long moment, they rested together wordlessly and Legolas just allowed himself to drift, the ache of Glorfindel's thorough possession of him still with him, as was the languid heat of the pleasure he had known. Memories came unbidden after a while, though this time they were more welcome, if still embarrassing. He thought of weeping in Glorfindel's arms yet again the past evening, after Glorfindel had made good on his promise and forced a full confession of all of his perceived misdoings from him, and then, oh, Glorfindel's hands teaching him a lesson he would not be quick to forget...

Legolas squirmed at the memory, still embarrassed by it after all, and then thought with a suddenly dry mouth of how this evening, he would have that to confess to his Lord as well...

“Awake again?” Glorfindel buried a hand in his hand and then drew his face close for a slow kiss. “Lovely Legolas...Such a temptation you are to me. But ai, what better way to start the day? I fear that if you were thinking of taking Gîl to the horses, you will have to think of something else now. I cannot see you spending much time in the saddle after the work-out I gave you.”

Legolas winced in agreement. “I can take him to the river instead, and we can try and catch a newt. He likes that.”

“Oh, and will not Haldir love that.” Glorfindel gave a deep, throaty laugh at the thought of proud Haldir kneeling in the mud in order to catch a newt for Legolas. “Or ask him if there is some other part of the Golden Wood he would like to show you. I am not ready yet to let him off the hook for his horrid treatment of you, but I do believe that he has had a change of mind. And you seem uncommonly fond of nice, kind Haldir now as well...”

Legolas blushed despite himself when he remembered his own drunken antics at Haldir's side. Oh Valar, he could not believe that he had truly said that, and for Haldir to hear as well!

“Do not let him tease you too much. Of course, he is fully aware that you do like to be teased at least to a degree...”

“I do not!” Legolas indignantly protested, and Glorfindel rolled them over, easily subduing him with laughing eyes.

“Of course you do, Legolas. He can see that, as can I - as can Celeborn, and everyone who has eyes to see. And who would not? You react to it so well. And from what I remember, you took his teasing as it was meant to be taken at our betrothal feast. It is but a sign of his admiration and affection for you, and a hint of desire as well, I admit, but then... How could one like Haldir possibly resist you? To men like him, like me, seeing you react to every word I speak, nay, even to the way I look at you, to my mere presence, is a great temptation. He cannot help reacting to you, just as I seem completely unable to resist you.”

“So what you are telling me, Lord,” Legolas said, coyly lowering his eyes at the honorific, “is that in truth, I am the one who wields great power over you and Haldir, and Celeborn as well?” He looked up again at Glorfindel then, and broke out in laughter at the mix of horrified amusement and, indeed, the first stirrings of desire on his Lord's face.

“No, my Lord, please!” Legolas begged, still laughing. “Do not tell me I have such power. Even if I had, I know not how to wield it at all, and in truth... In truth I am happy to know myself in your power.” His voice had softened at the last words, and when he looked at Glorfindel, there was no artfulness in him at all, even though the earnest desire to please that was in his eyes so often was this time softened by warm affection.

“And that is how I like it as well,” Glorfindel said and then, wickedly, attacked again, trying to turn them over once more until, at last, they tumbled from the bed altogether and looked at each other in frozen shock before breaking out into laughter.

“That was not very romantic, my Lord,” Legolas chided and tried to right himself, only to find himself wrestled to the ground once more.

“I am in a rather rough mood today, it seems,” Glorfindel growled and playfully bit at Legolas' throat, who giggled but could not help shivering in delight at the possessive gesture as well and turned his head, offering himself up to his Lord's teeth and lips.

“Shall I send you off to Haldir like this, marked by my teeth, reeking of desire, still filled by my seed?” Legolas found he could not answer, shocked by the wild desire that rushed through him at Glorfindel's words. “He would know exactly what I did to you this morn. I cannot help but like that thought. And poor, poor Haldir, he would have liked so much to watch you take your punishment...”

Legolas whimpered and then closed his eyes, tears brimming on his lashes when Glorfindel ruthlessly slid inside him once more, making him ache, making him tremble and writhe in need. It was exactly what he needed; it was overwhelming, too much and yet not enough, so that he clutched at Glorfindel, gasping for breath, staring at his Lord above him with his golden mane illuminated by the rising sun, his smooth body gleaming with sweat, and his eyes, oh...

Legolas felt himself sinking into them as if into a deep pool of water, pulled by an invisible current that frightened him with its strength, and then, suddenly, he felt warmth, the heat of Glorfindel's soul warming his as the sun warmed both their bodies, and his climax was drawn from him as his body shook and trembled from the intensity of lust, desire, voracious need that washed over him so that he did not even knew if he cried out, if Glorfindel cried out, or where the sound of his name had come from that now reverberated inside him, voiced with possessive desire, overwhelming need and such impossible, tender love...

“Don't cry, Legolas. Don't cry, my heart,” Glorfindel whispered and kissed him, so that Legolas moaned almost mindlessly, still trembling not just from his release but also from the strength of the emotions that coursed through him. Glorfindel was still inside him, but when Legolas looked up at him, he felt their connection even more fiercely. It ran like a jolt through him when he saw his own face reflected in his Lord's eyes, and at his reaction, Glorfindel smiled and moved to kiss him once more.

“My love,” his Lord then murmured into his ear, his body so deliciously heavy on top of his own that Legolas wrapped his arms around Glorfindel's neck to hold him close, wishing that they could remain so connected for all time.

“Do you see? Already, I am yours... How foolish I have been, to try and deny my love for you. Have I not possessed your body countless times? And have I not already sworn myself to you? The oaths we shall take in public, my heart, will be but a public affirmation of what our hearts already know is true. You are mine and I am yours, and so it shall remain until the end of Arda itself, with Eru as our witness.”

Legolas silently looked up at him, awed and overwhelmed by the strength of the love that streamed through his entire body at this declaration, and Glorfindel, as if drawn by an irresistible force, moved to cover his face and throat with hundreds of kisses.

“Haldir knows,” Glorfindel at last admitted. “And Ellonúr. If I think about it, certainly Galadriel and Celeborn do as well – such a thing would never escape the notice of the Lady of Light. What a fool I have proven to be, denying such a thing to myself while my heart had already decided to cleave to yours... Ai, I should have told you in a more romantic setting, but-”

“No,” Legolas said softly. “This is just right,” He wiggled just a little, filled to overflowing with disbelieving love and oh, still helplessly excited by the feeling of his Lords still inside him. Then he laughed and shook his head, wondering if he was dreaming, but oh! The force of Glorfindel's love filled his heart to nearly bursting, even while his Lord's eyes gleamed with unshed tears. He laughed again, for sheer, overwhelming joy, and then kissed Glorfindel once more until they were both laughing, both crying, and it took a long, long time until they managed to clean and dress themselves and help Gîl eat his breakfast.