Pen-Estel

Chapter Eight

When the rising sun bathed their room in light the next morning, Legolas woke slowly, still as tired as if he had not slept at all. He blinked wearily, taking in his surroundings, and it took a long moment until he remembered.

He whimpered. He hurt all over - he was very sore, and his chest ached terribly. He did not think he could bear a touch there, least of all feed Gîl - but he would have to! It was morning, and soon Gîl would be very hungry once more...

Legolas sobbed at the thought. What Glorfindel had done to him had been bad enough, but to actually have to nurse Gîl when he felt like this... For a moment he felt like fainting again at the thought, but he knew that he could not, this time. Gîl needed him.

Slowly and carefully he slipped out of the bed, so as not to alert Elrond who was still asleep. He did not want to talk, not right now - it had hurt to be betrayed this way, even if somehow Glorfindel had been behind it, and he did not think he could bear the answers Elrond would give him.

The salve Elrond had used on him last night was still there, and after a moment's hesitation, Legolas took it. He could not use it now, but after he had nursed his son, he was certain that he would need it. Then he quickly put on a simple robe and wrapped a belt around his waist to hold it closed. It was faster this way to bare his chest for Gîl, and at this time he hoped that there would not be too many servants around in the corridors to stare at him. And maybe... maybe for once, he would be lucky and Glorfindel would still be asleep as well. For as much as he did not want to talk with Elrond right now, he wanted to avoid Glorfindel even more.

He flushed with shame as he remembered how he had behaved last night. Was it any wonder that Glorfindel thought him a whore, worthy of no more consideration than a horse he had broken in? And he could not even fault him for it, for Legolas remembered all too clearly how in the end, he had begged for the pain - and he had meant it then.

Sneaking into their rooms was easy enough. After the quiet and uneventful visit yesterday, Legolas knew that Glorfindel would probably be asleep this early. All he had to do was be quiet. But when he finally entered, and saw Glorfindel, he forgot everything.

Glorfindel was asleep, but Legolas felt as though he had never seen such a wonderful sight. He stopped just inside the doorway, and drank in the sight of his lover with grateful eyes. Even at rest, Glorfindel was magnificent. He was sprawled face-down on the bed so that Legolas wondered how he had ever found room to sleep there alongside him. In his sleep, he had pushed the single satin sheet so that it only half covered him. Legolas smiled openly, loving the sight of Glorfindel’s golden hair and skin. His broad shoulders were uncovered and bare to Legolas’ gaze, and one of his legs was uncovered too, revealing one toned, muscled calf.

He blushed when his gaze lingered on the sheet, realising that such a thin covering didn’t really hide anything. But he watched as Glorfindel moved in his sleep, turning onto his side, holding one of the pillows to him possessively. He had a wild desire to join Glorfindel on the bed and take his place there again, and only the thought that he wouldn’t be welcome stopped him. He sighed silently, realising that he had been holding his breath, and crept to Gîlríon’s door without disturbing the Lord.

Gîl was already awake, and as soon as he saw Legolas, he opened his mouth to cry.

“Shh…” Legolas said in alarm, quietly pulling the door closed and then walking quickly over to the cot. He lifted Gîl easily, but then rather than feed him immediately, he retreated to a chair so that he could sit down – he had a feeling he would need to.

Baring his chest, he looked down and closed his eyes briefly. In the morning light, he looked even worse, but there was nothing he could do now. With the barest hesitation, he allowed Gîl to get close enough to him to feed.

“Ai!” He called out without even realising it. Legolas had expected it to hurt – but this? “Please, Gîl… you have to be careful this morning,” he moaned quietly. He blinked tears of pain from his eyes, to see that Gîl had settled in his arms happily, suckling, and despite how much it hurt, the sight still made him smile. But then the horrid, pulling sensation was too much, and he wept as he nursed his child, rocking as much for himself as for Gîl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Legolas called out, and in the next room, Glorfindel pulled the pillow closer to him, only to awaken immediately. Legolas! Where was he? Then he remembered, and he sank back onto the bed lazily. After that first loud moan, everything seemed to go quiet, and then he heard Legolas weeping. Frowning, Glorfindel wondered why, and then he remembered that too. He winced helplessly in unwilling sympathy at the thought of what was making Legolas cry. He had truly not thought of what it would mean to hurt him in such a way.

Listening intently, he was aware of when the slight whimpering stopped, and he sighed in relief, then waited for Legolas to emerge from Gîl’s room. He hadn’t slept well, and Legolas took longer than expected. So long that Glorfindel jerked awake after an unknown amount of time, almost tempted to see what was keeping him. He suddenly wondered if he had fallen asleep – to the extent that Legolas had escaped him. He made to get up and make sure, but then the door opened slowly, and Glorfindel lay back with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He curled up on the cushioned chair with Gîl in his arms, still crying, still rocking, and it wasn’t until Gîl moved restlessly in his arms that he looked down and realised it was over. It still hurt as though Gîl was there, pulling on him. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Legolas stood and walked over to the small basin and jug on the table. He tested the water with his free hand. When it had been brought here, it must have been hot – now it was just the right temperature. He bathed Gîl quickly, relieved that the aching pain was finally quietening down, and then stood with him, swaying gently, until Gîl had fallen asleep again.

When he was done, and Gîl was back in his bed, Legolas opened the door he had closed, and walked out into the bedroom silently.

It seemed that Glorfindel was still asleep, and Legolas was glad that he had not heard his weeping. Slowly, he walked towards the door, but then he hesitated and once again looked at Glorfindel. His lord was truly so beautiful... and he was everything that Legolas knew he would never be. As if pulled forward by something out of his control he stepped towards the bed, his heart beating faster as he studied Glorfindel's naked magnificence.

He seemed to have turned in his sleep while Legolas was with Gîl, and now the thin sheet had slipped almost entirely from his body. Legolas knew that he should leave - but he just could not help himself. He felt both frightened and excited as he allowed his eyes to travel down Glorfindel's body, and swallowed when he saw that his shaft was already half-hard, as if Glorfindel somehow knew that he was close.

Legolas released a trembling breath, wanting this more than anything - but he knew that he could not have it, never again. He himself had ruined all his chances of ever finding happiness with Glorfindel, or even pleasure. Yet still, he needed him so! It was so easy to forget when he was with Elrond, who could be so kind and gentle, but as soon as he was close to Glorfindel, he knew - he knew that he belonged to him, and he always would. Even if Glorfindel had given him away, his body knew that he belonged to Glorfindel, and his heart - his heart knew that as well.

His heart beat even faster when he bent down a little. He almost moaned. Oh, to breathe his scent again - even after what Glorfindel had done to him last night!

And then, suddenly, Glorfindel's arm shot up and grabbed his wrist to pull him down onto the bed, and Legolas cried out in shock.

"Did I not tell you not to invade my privacy?" Glorfindel hissed, and Legolas trembled, too scared to answer. Glorfindel easily held him down with one hand at his throat, and all Legolas could manage to do was to gasp for breath while trying not to struggle in his panic, because he knew that Glorfindel would truly hurt him if he did that.

"I am sorry!" he gasped. "Please, I did not want to disturb you!"

"But you did - your pathetic crying woke me!" Glorfindel said cruelly, and Legolas' eyes filled with tears once more. "Can't you even be quiet when you look after our son? I told you that you are not to disturb me, and here you were whimpering so loudly that every servant in this wing must have heard you!"

Legolas was aware of Glorfindel’s scornful contemplation a while longer, and he sobbed then, wincing when he saw the Lord sneer from the corner of his eye.

“Please, forgive me, my Lord,” he said quietly, trying to rein in the desolate feeling of having his lover hate him so much. Looking down, he didn’t realise when the look of scorn left.

“Yes, well,” Glorfindel said dismissively. “There is something you can do for me to make up for your thoughtlessness.” So saying he pushed down on Legolas’ shoulders demandingly, so that he faced Glorfindel’s erection. Legolas licked his lips in anticipation. “Your body may well be soiled, but at least your mouth can give me some relief.”

Legolas blanched at the offhand insult, and although he had been looking forward to tasting Glorfindel again, he realised that this wasn’t really good. Glorfindel used his mouth as though he were a dead thing, actually thrusting into him so brutally that at times Legolas feared he would choke as Glorfindel’s length was forced down his throat. He whimpered, and that just seemed to drive the Lord on, until he finally came with a soft groan, releasing his seed deep into Legolas’ throat, making him feel dirty, just as Glorfindel had pointed out.

His lips and throat felt sore and used as they parted, Glorfindel shoving him away roughly so that he cried again. The Lord then left the bed, only to stand over Legolas like a threatening shadow.

“From now on when you visit here you will pay attention to two things,” Glorfindel began, completely emotionless. “One, you will make certain you are clean and presentable. Two, you will ensure your body is ready for me to use, should I wish it. If you neglect either of these I will punish you severely.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Legolas said in misery, certain that Glorfindel could make his other demands just as unpleasant as he had just made the experience of serving his Lord with his mouth.

“If you neglect the second, and your screams awaken my son then I will consider getting a wet nurse for him so that your presence is not required. Do you understand?” His voice was so very cold, and Legolas flinched at the threat. It was what he feared above all else, to be separated from Gîl. And then he heard how Glorfindel had described him, and he wept more tears. My son? Had he even lost his place as Gîl’s father now in Glorfindel’s mind?

“Yes, my Lord,” Legolas agreed to the condition numbly, feeling more frightened of this new, cold Glorfindel than he had ever been before – even when he first came to Imladris and Glorfindel had used him. It had never felt so dispassionate as this, and he realised that Glorfindel was treating him the way he deserved – as though he was a whore.

“Your silence is required at all times. Excluding the possibility that Gîlríon requires my attention you will not address me, and you will otherwise make no sound unless I encourage you to do so. Is that clear?” Legolas swallowed, and looked up at Glorfindel, wishing to see a little of the elf Lord – even the warrior – he had come to know during his time in Imladris, but Glorfindel’s expression was stony and distant. Legolas answered him with another sad affirmative, but wondered if Glorfindel even listened to his words.

“Yes, my Lord.”

Legolas felt as if he were a ghost – or as if he were asleep, lost in a nightmare. Yet he could no longer even hope for the rising sun to wake him from this torment. This was what his life would be from now on...

With trembling fingers he held his robe pulled tightly around him when he fled Glorfindel’s rooms. He almost moaned at the thought of having to return in a few hours – would it always be like this now? Was Glorfindel just waiting for him to make a mistake, so that he then could take Gîl away from him after all?

He just would have to try hard then, he told himself feverishly. He mustn’t give Glorfindel a single reason to make good on his threat; he simply would have to do whatever the Lord commanded – and he had to keep it secret from Elrond.

If Elrond knew, he would certainly go to confront Glorfindel, and then – then he would never see Gîl again.

No, he would rather suffer at Glorfindel’s hand every single day than to let that happen – Elrond must never know!

Still feeling as if he were walking in a dream, he looked around himself. He had almost reached Elrond’s suite of rooms, and what would he do if the Lord were awake now as well? He could not kiss him like this! Not while he tasted of Glorfindel!

With some relief he then realised that he had stopped almost in front of the doors that led into the gardens – not Elrond’s own gardens, but the larger ones open to the public. He had been there several times with Glorfindel, and he knew that just around the corner, there was a small rivulet. Once he had made sure that nobody was observing him, he quickly knelt down and rinsed his mouth. He shivered, both because the water came from the mountains and was cold as ice, and because this, again, made him feel just like he had when Elrond cleaned him in his bath. Dirty, and cheap – a whore, whose entire life consisted of nothing but lies. He sobbed, then quickly, before a servant could find him here, fled back towards the house.

Elrond wasn’t awake when he returned, and Legolas took the opportunity to go to the bathroom and clean himself properly. He also reapplied the salve to his nipples, whimpering at his own touch, wondering how long it would take to begin to ease. He didn’t know how many times he could face feeding Gîl in the silence Glorfindel seemed to want from him.

He applied the healing ointment to his passage too, for the first time understanding that Elrond had continued to care for him and his injuries long after he had fainted. The knowledge made him feel a little less cold, and he ventured into the bedroom to find Elrond awake then.

Breakfast was a sad affair, even though Elrond was so solicitous and gentle with him – holding a chair for him, even pouring his tea – that he knew it was by way of an apology. He accepted all of Elrond’s small kindnesses, not knowing how to ask the questions he needed to know the answers to. He wondered if Elrond would bother to answer them anyway. But then, in a sudden flash of understanding and age, he wondered if that was because Elrond himself didn’t know. It was an uncomfortable thought, and he turned away from it, fearing where such musings would lead.

Instead, after Elrond had gone, leaving him with such a gentle, tender kiss that Legolas knew he wasn’t far from the truth earlier, he went back to the bathroom and bathed properly – making sure to prepare his body as Glorfindel had demanded. Even alone, it was a humiliating experience, and he sobbed softly before it was done.

Eventually, there was nothing for it but to go back. He had been away a couple of hours by now, and no doubt Gîl would be hungry again. He had probably awoken properly, and would be bored too.

Although he had followed Glorfindel’s instructions, he didn’t really fear that he would be facing his Lord again – after all, Glorfindel was usually busy during the day. So it was a shock when he opened the door, to be greeted with Glorfindel, entertaining Gîl in his absence.

Glorfindel was tickling their son, laughing, and Gîl too, was giggling delightedly, wriggling in his grasp as if to get away. Good luck , Legolas thought with a smile of his own. But then Glorfindel realised he was no longer alone. He turned, smiling happily, and Legolas felt blessed when the smile didn’t immediately vanish. But he said nothing, remembering Glorfindel’s insistence on silence, as the Lord walked over to him. He handed Gîl over with a last smile at their son.

“I think he is hungry,” Glorfindel said. “You are later than usual... isn’t he, pen neth?” he finished, looking down at Gîl again, teasing him by using one finger to tickle him under the chin. Gîl giggled again, and then turned towards Legolas to get away.

Legolas took him gladly, kissing the top of his head while Gîlríon wriggled happily in his arms. When the child then unerringly began to nuzzle at his chest, Legolas almost gasped, but he could just bite his lip in time before he made a sound. Carefully, he eased Gîl away for the moment, still feeling completely lost and very uncomfortable. He did not want to nurse Gîl in front of Glorfindel, not when he already knew that he would cry again. But could he just leave, or would Glorfindel call that disrespectful and use it as another reason for a new punishment?

In the end, Gîl’s hunger won out – the child was clearly distressed at being held against Legolas’ chest, but not yet allowed to nurse, and so, with a soundless sigh, Legolas left the room to enter the nursery. He did not dare to look back to see Glorfindel’s reaction, but the lord did not say anything, and Legolas took that to mean that Glorfindel was no longer paying attention to him.

Again he sat down in the rocking chair, quickly hushing Gîlríon when he uttered an impatient cry, and then he opened his robe. “Please, don’t be so greedy today, Gîl...” he whispered, and then he held the child to his chest, tears welling up in his eyes as soon as Gîlríon’s mouth found the abused nipple. Legolas still remembered Glorfindel’s threat all too well, and he did not let a single sound of pain escape his lips this time. Instead, he had raised a hand to his mouth, biting down on it to silence himself, and he soundlessly wept while he watched his little son.

The pain was still just as bad as the day before, and even when Gîlríon was finally finished, Legolas still did not dare to take the hand away from his mouth. For a few minutes he remained sitting in the chair, rocking gently to somehow comfort himself as he continued to weep, hoping the pain would finally ease, and when it eventually did and he raised his eyes, he found Glorfindel standing in the door, coldly watching him.

He looked away at once, still seeing the image of the Lord, leaning against the doorframe arrogantly as though to block the way out. He closed his eyes in helpless desire when he imagined Glorfindel not letting him get away. But he looked down at Gîl again then, and stood up to retrieve a few simple toys from one of the shelves that lined the room so they could play quietly on the floor.

All the time he was aware of Glorfindel’s scrutiny. He felt it boring into him whenever he turned his back to the door, observed it from the corner of his eye whenever he turned around. It became more and more difficult not to look back, until, a little while later, Legolas turned away from Gîl and his wooden blocks to face the door – and found that Glorfindel was gone.

But was he gone entirely from his rooms? Legolas almost stood to find out, because if Glorfindel had left him alone, he could talk to Gîl, as he wanted… But if he was there, and Legolas went to the door, what would that seem like? Asking for it? He shuddered and paid attention to Gîl again, losing himself in the company of his son.

It became easier to stay quiet as time wore on. He wasn’t in pain now, and after the wooden blocks became boring, Legolas bathed him, and then played an improvised version of hide and seek with him, hiding behind the towel, only to appear suddenly, smiling over the top of it. Gîl giggled gleefully every time, and eventually Legolas laughed out loud at his reaction too, unable to keep it in, and it was only then he remembered the reason for his silence.

He waited nervously, holding his breath, for what seemed like an eternity, but Glorfindel didn’t come back to the door, and Legolas breathed again in relief. Still, he determined not to make the same mistake again, and so they gave up the game, only for Legolas to rock Gîl in his arms until his child had fallen asleep. He put Gîl down in his cot lovingly, smiling, before retreating towards the door.

He turned to walk through it, and there his Lord was. Legolas almost cried out, startled, but managed to keep it in. He took a step back, looking away again, but Glorfindel just followed him, reaching out to grab his wrist and pull him through the door. Legolas went where Glorfindel led him, over to the bed, and he couldn’t help but be excited – he couldn’t! However it came to pass, even if Glorfindel was cruel, Legolas still wanted him, and in a way he would never want Elrond. Glorfindel made him weak and dizzy, his touch was like fire, and his presence made Legolas alert and aware of everything, as just before a thunderstorm.

“Undress!” Glorfindel said coldly, and Legolas obeyed straight away, hands shaking, wanting, and unable to hide it. But Glorfindel didn’t react to his nakedness, only ordering him to lie face down on the bed when he was done. He lay with his head on his arms, unashamedly watching as the Lord began to undress, after all, Glorfindel hadn’t expressly told him not to. But then Glorfindel caught his eye, and he smiled cruelly.

“Don’t look at me,” he said softly, and Legolas turned his head away with a silent sigh of regret. He could hear Glorfindel still though, and his mind painted the images for him. That sound was Glorfindel pulling the tunic over his head, to reveal his chest and shoulders. That one was the sound of Glorfindel taking off his belt. And that… Legolas swallowed, seeing his Lord naked and magnificent even if he couldn’t watch. He could feel himself pressing into the sheets, hard already, still waiting for the first touch of Glorfindel’s hands.

But that touch did not come... at least not the way Legolas had anticipated it.

“Spread your legs,” Glorfindel commanded, and when Legolas did as he was told, there was another silence. Legolas felt very vulnerable like this, all of his secret places bared for Glorfindel’s perusal, and yet at the same time, the thought excited him. Glorfindel might well hate him, but at least, in this way, he was still desired. He knew that all of this was meant to humiliate him, but he found that he did not care; he even embraced that feeling, revelling in it because it meant that Glorfindel had not lost interest in him.

He almost moaned when he was finally touched, even if it was no caress but simply Glorfindel’s knees holding his thighs spread open as the Lord settled behind him. He trembled, impatient for it to start – even if it would hurt, even if Glorfindel would be cold, he wanted it! He wanted it more than anything!

And then he almost screamed, and just managed to bite down into the cushion in time, when Glorfindel entered him with one harsh thrust. Even though he had prepared himself, even though he knew that this would happen, it just hurt so much to be taken like this! Glorfindel was just too large for it to not hurt, even during the times when he had done it slowly and gently. But to have his lord sheathe himself to the hilt with one powerful thrust once again forced tears from Legolas’ eyes, especially as he was still a little sore from the way Elrond had taken him without any kind of preparation that night.

Legolas tried to relax, to find comfort in the knowledge that the pain meant that right now, he still belonged to Glorfindel, but it still took all his willpower to stay quiet. Submissively he raised his hips, trying to make it easier for Glorfindel to take him, but all his efforts got him were a harsh slap to his thigh and an annoyed growl, and he almost begged then before he remembered.

He swallowed and turned his face into the cushions, biting down on them again to keep quiet while he let Glorfindel take what he wanted. He concentrated on relaxing completely, and staying still was easier then, as he tried to distance himself from what was happening. But with every thrust inside, Legolas felt his own arousal rubbing against the sheets beneath him, and his eyes filled with tears of frustration.

It seemed to take a while for Glorfindel to find release inside him, and Legolas knew it was his unresponsiveness that made it so, but Glorfindel wouldn’t allow him to play a part in this. When Glorfindel did come, Legolas held his breath, aware that he hadn’t found his own release, and knowing that the Lord would not help him to find it. Glorfindel rested on him then, half-covering him, making it possible to breathe but impossible to move. Legolas lay still in nervous dread of what would come next, expecting at any moment to be pushed from the bed. But they were still joined. Glorfindel didn’t pull out of him, and it was only after a few minutes of dizzy anticipation that Legolas realised Glorfindel had fallen asleep.

He made a small sound of surprise, and then tensed, hoping he hadn’t awoken the Lord. He still throbbed in desperate need, almost satisfied, but he didn’t dare to move a muscle in case he disturbed Glorfindel. After some time, Glorfindel rolled onto his side, but in his sleep he pulled Legolas with him, one arm draped over him heavily. Admitting that he wasn’t getting away, Legolas tried to rest, but he wasn’t really sleepy. The seconds and minutes dragged by like years, until, at last, he felt himself drifting away, encouraged by the stillness and quiet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Legolas…” a sleepy voice purred into his ear, and he began to come back to consciousness at the feel of lips on his neck. He stretched a little and moaned in abandon, feeling Glorfindel still inside him… but he was hard again. The Lord moved within him suddenly, and Legolas caught his breath at the sore feeling, finally waking up completely.

Glorfindel must still be half-asleep, or he wouldn’t be like this. Kissing and… Legolas almost screamed when one of Glorfindel’s hands roamed over his chest, the fingers rubbing against a nipple. He couldn’t help it – he had to cry, and soon the kisses stopped. Glorfindel was awake again too.

Legolas trembled, but he stayed quiet. He was still crying silently from the pain, yet he did not move, waiting for Glorfindel’s reaction.

For a moment, they were both still – then Glorfindel groaned, almost deliberately, and began to move. Unlike the first time, his movements were slower now, and Legolas’ breath hitched when Glorfindel’s length slid in and out, lazily rubbing against the walls of his sore passage, and unerringly always finding the centre of his pleasure with every movement.

Yet still, Legolas stayed silent, and unresponsive, nothing but a warm body for Glorfindel to use as he liked – because that was what Glorfindel wanted him to be. Almost he sobbed again – not from pain this time, and also not from pleasure, although it was enough to drive him insane with need and desire.

Legolas’ lips parted again, and although he tried so hard to stay silent, a small whimper escaped him this time when Glorfindel groaned and lazily rolled his hips as if he were revelling in the velvety tightness that held him so deliciously encased. This time, the tears in Legolas’ eyes were from love, and frustration, and grief... He wanted to please Glorfindel more than anything else, yet any kind of reaction was forbidden to him now. To be given such exquisite feelings and yet be forbidden from showing them – it was the utmost cruelty!

He whimpered again, then bit down on his lip until he tasted blood, doing the only thing that was left to him: Relaxing his body completely in a last, desperate show of submission, surrendering everything he was to Glorfindel, for his Lord to do whatever he wanted with him.

As if Glorfindel felt his surrender, he became more demanding, taking Legolas harder in response until the rhythm reached a crescendo, and he came with a satisfied groan, swearing under his breath.

Legolas lay defeated when the Lord withdrew from him, only to stand up and move away from the bed – already getting dressed. But at least Glorfindel didn’t want him to move. Legolas didn’t know if he could move. But then he heard a familiar sound coming from the direction of the nursery, and had to stifle a dismayed groan. Oh, Gîl! Why now? he thought in misery, pulling himself to sit upright and then standing. He looked for his clothes, and saw that Glorfindel stood between him and them. Looking up, he encountered Glorfindel’s amusement, and he blushed.

Folding his arms around him, he fled to the nursery, while Glorfindel laughed softly at his retreating figure. Some time later, when Gîl was satisfied again, he heard the sound of the door closing behind Glorfindel, and knew he was at last alone. Now he could cry, and he did, loudly and without comfort, only stopping because his grief was upsetting Gîl.

When the day was over, and his child was sleeping happily once more, Legolas dressed and left Glorfindel’s rooms. He wanted to gain the bathroom and clean himself before Elrond arrived back. The Lord could not know what Glorfindel did with him, because he would stop it, and Legolas didn’t want it to stop, however much it hurt.