Pen-Estel

Chapter Nine

During the following days, Legolas soon became used to his new schedule. He would wake up long before Elrond and steal away from his warm bed to spend an hour with Gîl, nursing him and entertaining him until he fell asleep again. Then he would return to Elrond, to share the Lord’s breakfast, and usually also his bed, for Elrond could be just as insatiable as Glorfindel in his own way.

Then he would return to spend the daytime with Gîl, playing with him, talking and laughing once he was sure that Glorfindel had left, and daydreaming while his son was asleep. The evening was then again for Elrond, with another shared meal and quiet company for the Lord who sometimes still had to finish a last letter – or sometimes, when all work was done, tried his best to completely exhaust the two of them in his bed, or on a settee, or in the bath. Yet always, Elrond’s attentions would leave Legolas weary and already half-asleep when he afterwards had to force himself to look in on Gîlríon again for a few minutes, before he would return to finally find his well-deserved rest in Elrond’s arms.

Of course, what Elrond did not know was that all of this was a lie.

Legolas did play with Gîl, and bath him and nurse him and dream by his side – but he also continued to serve Glorfindel, always obedient and silent like his lord had commanded. And when Legolas stumbled back to Elrond’s room late at night, so weary that he almost fell asleep in the corridor, then it was not just because he had to look after a small child and please the Lord of Imladris in his bed, in addition to his pregnancy – no, it was because Legolas had to please Glorfindel as well, who was still cold and demanding, but at least had not hurt him as badly as he had done that night again.

Glorfindel no longer had to order him to undress and lay on the bed. When his time with Gîl was over, and Glorfindel sat quietly reading or some such activity, Legolas would make his way over to the bed silently. The Lord had even termed his demands ‘payment’ for seeing Gîl, and Legolas didn’t dare to object to such a statement. If this was what he had to endure to be with his son, then in all honesty he didn’t mind. It could be much worse.

Glorfindel was a master at anticipation though – Legolas had discovered that. Sometimes he lay on the bed for as much as an hour, aware that his Lord was looking at him, but unable to move or encourage him in any way. And when he came over… Legolas had never known anything so frustrating. He had healed now, and so it didn’t hurt so much for Glorfindel to take him. At least, the pain of being taken suddenly soon changed into pleasure for him, and at times he was aware that the Lord was intentionally making it pleasurable for him, and at those times he clenched his fists so tightly to stay silent that his fingernails drew blood.

It carried on and on, with no end in sight. Legolas grew more and more tired. And then, one day, Glorfindel made a strange request of him. Ever since the Lord found out about his betrayal, he had taken Legolas from behind, as though he didn’t want to see, which upset Legolas a little. But now something changed.

“Turn over,” Glorfindel commanded coldly, before he came over to the bed, and Legolas swallowed and obliged, wondering what this meant. Had Glorfindel found some new torture for him to endure? But there was no torture, at least none that he wasn’t expecting.

The Lord took him as always, but this time they looked at each other. It was the most beautiful experience, after having been denied this for so long, and Legolas felt his eyes shining with tears that were of love. He watched Glorfindel, and then closed his eyes as the Lord entered him. He managed to stay quiet and still, even when Glorfindel began to take him in a slow, steady, pleasurable way that had never failed to make him moan before.

Maybe it was his tiredness, or maybe it was the position, but Legolas suddenly felt as though he needn’t hold back. It was something he had to try hard to remember when he was tired, because Elrond wanted him to respond, while Glorfindel did not. And to be taken like this was so similar to Elrond that he felt his desire again, and he had to voice it.

He moaned yearningly, softly, and once again there were tears in his eyes. But this time, the tears were caused not by pain but by the love he still felt for Glorfindel, and the simple gratitude of being allowed to gaze at his Lord again when he was at his most beautiful: lost in passion, strong, masterful, and yet also vulnerable.

Legolas opened his eyes to look at him, sadly realising that after all this time, he had finally violated one of Glorfindel’s rules. But if Glorfindel would punish him for this, then at least he wanted to look at him first, so that he would never again forget what it was that he had lost – he had lost the one who owned his heart.

His moan was only a soft sigh now, a sound that was almost regretful, because he knew of the consequences it could bring, but still he could not have stayed silent. It simply was impossible, because Glorfindel felt so hard and huge inside him, and it was all he had ever wanted. To be held in his Lord’s arms, to feel that he was giving him pleasure, to no longer be treated like a thing but to once again be acknowledged for the person he was...

His eyes closed again when he felt Glorfindel stop. He knew what would come now – the punishment he had earned himself by disobeying. Maybe it had all been a test, and he had failed it... but Legolas would gladly admit that indeed, he was weak, for it was an impossible task. No living creature could share a bed with his Lord and not voice the pleasure that this brought!

He swallowed when he could feel Glorfindel’s head bending down, and he imagined the cold derision that would once again be visible on his face. Legolas almost sighed in regret for what he had done, but now that it was too late, he finally remembered what was at stake and stayed silent.

Only when Glorfindel’s lips finally touched his did he make a sound, and then his shocked gasp was already muffled by Glorfindel’s lips while the Lord took advantage of his surprise to take back what had once only belonged to him.

For a moment further he was shocked, and then he moaned again as Glorfindel continued to kiss him. But it ended before Legolas had tasted nearly enough of it. The Lord trailed his lips down over his neck and onto his collarbone, and Legolas could feel his tongue, as though Glorfindel were savouring the taste of his skin. It felt so good!

“Glor –”

“Don’t…” Glorfindel cut him off warningly before he could even finish speaking his Lord’s name. The kisses stopped too, with Glorfindel’s lips so close to his skin he could feel the slight heat of his breath. “Don’t say anything.” It wasn’t a coldly given order this time, but almost a plea, and Legolas swallowed, wishing he could say please because he didn’t want this to stop.

With his silence, the hungry kisses began again. Hesitantly, still fearing to spoil everything, Legolas lifted his hands to curl them in Glorfindel’s hair. Nothing altered, and he sobbed, only to catch his breath again when Glorfindel looked up at him.

The Lord smiled, as though he had discovered water in the desert, and then kissed him on the lips again, this time resuming the slow lovemaking of before, so that Legolas whimpered. His hands fell to Glorfindel’s shoulders, and the Lord didn’t push his touch away, but allowed it. As soon as he realised he could touch, Legolas couldn’t seem to help himself. It was like falling in love; to hold Glorfindel close to him as they kissed, feeling his lover moving inside him so tenderly, and part of his weariness fell away. Had he been fading? Quietly, in silence, while everything carried on around him?

But then the answer didn’t matter, because Glorfindel reached down, to capture Legolas’ erect member in his hand. He moaned and sobbed at the same time as Glorfindel caressed him, slow squeezing movements that made him want to call out his lover’s name – but he didn’t.

Breaking the kiss, Glorfindel pulled teasingly out of Legolas’ reach. His hand still moved between them. “Come for me,” he said, as if to test Legolas’ reactions, but he had never needed to fear Legolas’ disobedience. He came violently, with a cry of jubilation and defeat, feeling himself tighten around Glorfindel so that the Lord groaned in pleasure.

“Ah, roch neth!” he whispered, and then began to take Legolas more forcefully. He cried to hear Glorfindel’s name for him. It had been too long since he had heard it, and he moved now, matching Glorfindel’s pace, making it easy and pleasurable for the Lord to claim him. When Glorfindel collapsed against him, and everything became still, it was only then he felt a dampness against his chest, where Glorfindel had rested his head. He had been crying too.

Again he dared what had been so long forbidden to him and trailed his fingers through Glorfindel’s hair, marvelling at the beauty of the heavy golden tresses. How he had missed this simple pleasure!

And this was something he had missed as well – lying in Glorfindel’s arms, both of them spent and exhausted now, Glorfindel softening inside him but not moving away, as if even now he wanted to show his claim...

Legolas sighed and, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, again dared to smile at Glorfindel. He did not dare to speak yet, not after Glorfindel had almost begged for him to be silent, but he found that he did not have to talk. The silence said more than enough – the silence, and the fact that Glorfindel still had not let him go. Maybe Glorfindel did not hate him after all, maybe, even after his horrible betrayal, Glorfindel would be able to forgive him!

Slowly, Legolas allowed his hands to slip away from Glorfindel’s tangled locks. Shyly, reverently, he cupped Glorfindel’s face, and when the Lord did not protest, he grew even bolder and tenderly wiped the tears away with his fingertips. Then his fingers moved on, tracing Glorfindel’s lips, and Legolas moaned again as he relived the kiss.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then Glorfindel shook his head, and Legolas only spoke in his mind what he had wanted to say out loud for so long, willing Glorfindel to understand. I love you. I belong only to you.

Glorfindel kissed him once more, before groaning in regret and leaving Legolas to get up from the bed. He turned his back to get dressed, and for one single moment Legolas feared a return of the coldness so much that his heart ached.

“You will stay here,” Glorfindel said without looking around, yet relieving his fears just like that. When he was dressed the Lord turned, and as if there hadn’t been enough joy, Glorfindel smiled at him. “You will wait here for me to return,” he said then, and Legolas nodded, still not wanting to break whatever spell this was by speaking.

It was only after Glorfindel had gone that he spared a thought for Elrond. Would the Lord be worried, hurt… lonely? More importantly, would he turn up here to see where Legolas was? None of it mattered though; there was no chance of him disobeying Glorfindel’s instructions, even if Elrond marched in here. There was no threat that could make him leave Glorfindel’s bed.

But, as he currently found himself alone, with nothing to distract him, and after the exhausting business of trying to please both of the Lords, Legolas was still tired. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep in the soft bed, surrounded by the comforting scent of Glorfindel. Just to sleep here was pleasurable, and he slept until Gîl woke him some time later.

He got up and stretched in satisfaction, already walking across the quickly darkening room to the nursery. It occurred to him that he had missed dinner, and that Elrond must know by now he wasn’t coming back. He told himself he didn’t care… and he didn’t – not really. Nothing had really been the same since Elrond hurt him, but he did feel a kind of sadness for him, because Elrond would be alone now.

Glorfindel was late, which was far more worrying to Legolas. Had he changed his mind and now avoided his rooms because he didn’t want to find Legolas there? His heart sank at the possibility, and he felt terrible. He nursed Gîl, who only seemed to need nourishment before settling down again, and then put him back to sleep, watching him for a while. He feared that Glorfindel wouldn’t come back, and he would be forced to spend the night alone here in his rooms. It would be the worst kind of punishment, and he wondered with a faint sense of dread if all of this had been about hurting him in such a way.

Lost in these unpleasant thoughts, it was a surprise when he felt warm arms embracing him, and he gasped as Glorfindel kissed the back of his neck.

“I give you one instruction, roch neth,” he said deeply, in amusement, “to wait for me in my bed. And you cannot keep it?” Legolas hadn’t bothered to get dressed, and so the feel of Glorfindel’s hands against his naked skin was more than a little distracting. Not to mention his Lord’s lips, kissing his neck like that. He moaned and leaned back against Glorfindel, letting his head rest against the Lord’s shoulder, completely forgetting the question.

“I had dinner sent to you too, and yet it remains untouched outside the door.” Glorfindel sighed against Legolas’ skin in affected annoyance, making him shiver. “I can see that your time away from me has had a bad effect on you. You have become wild and undisciplined. But you will learn to please me again, won’t you?”

“Yes, my Lord,” he said immediately in response, speaking his first words to Glorfindel in almost a week, and it felt wonderful! He allowed Glorfindel to lead him back to the soft, warm bed, nervous and yet so full of desire he trembled with it. Glorfindel undressed quickly and joined him, pulling Legolas close to him for another of those slow, hungry kisses. When he had taken enough to satisfy him for a short while, Glorfindel pulled back and licked his lips.

Legolas moaned in desire, pressing himself as close to his Lord as he could and Glorfindel laughed in obvious delight. “It is far too late to be hungry now, roch neth… or perhaps you are starved for something else, hmm?” So saying he retrieved something from his clothes, which Legolas realised was a bottle of oil. He spread his legs when Glorfindel told him to, and moaned again when he felt the first oil-covered finger teasing at his sensitive opening.

Glorfindel grinned wickedly. "You are hungry for my touch..." he suggested, the finger sliding against him, and then inside, so that Legolas moaned again, more loudly this time.

"Yes, my Lord!" he agreed wholeheartedly when he could spare the breath to speak, trembling in Glorfindel's arms, feeling his hardness already pressing into his Lord's stomach.

"Then I would say it is time for a lesson," Glorfindel promised darkly, "wouldn't you?"

“Anything, Lord!” Legolas said fervently, and then moaned when Glorfindel’s fingers continued the slow massage inside him. Glorfindel grinned at his reaction and continued to torment him in this way for a while, until Legolas’ moans had changed into soft cries, and the first silver drops of his essence glistened wetly at the tip of his shaft.

“Do you want to come, roch neth?” Glorfindel asked wickedly and then laughed when Legolas immediately began to helplessly plead for his release. “Not yet... I fear that you will have to try harder.”

“Oh please!” Legolas whimpered, and then cried out again when Glorfindel’s teasing, tormenting fingers left his body. “No! Don’t stop!” he begged in despair, pressing himself harder against Glorfindel’s body, feeling completely shameless now – and there wasn’t any sense in feeling shame, not when Glorfindel knew his body more intimately than even he himself did! He moaned wantonly when his erection slid along Glorfindel’s hard length, and when this got an answering groan from his Lord, he wrapped his arms around his neck. Hungrily, he pressed his mouth to Glorfindel’s throat, licking over the sweaty skin and moaning again when the salty taste sent another wave of pure lust straight to his groin. And he could feel Glorfindel’s body react as well – impossible as it seemed, his Lord seemed to get even harder and larger, and Legolas truly felt that he would go insane if he could not feel his Lord inside him.

“Please!” he moaned breathlessly. “I need you, and you know it, my Lord! I need to feel you inside me – do not make me suffer so!”

Glorfindel held Legolas away from him, but only long enough to coat his own erection with more of the oil. He wanted Legolas, but in a different way this time. There had already been more than enough pain.

When he had entered his rooms at last, he had felt such fear when he saw the empty bed. Of course, if he had looked properly he would have seen Legolas’ clothes, still resting where they had been earlier that day – but his first thought was that Legolas had left, and in his heart he feared it because he knew he deserved such a thing.

His anger had made him cruel… irrationally and irresponsibly so. But he had wanted Legolas to hurt like he was hurt! No, worse. The thought of Legolas with another – even Elrond, was more than he could reasonably be expected to take. But then, one moment and it seemed everything had turned around. His anger had changed somehow, so that now he only wanted to say sorry. But how could he? How could he make it right when the responsibility wasn’t entirely his?

His thoughts left him when he guided himself to breach Legolas though, and he pushed slowly inside, groaning when he felt himself surrounded by Legolas’ heat and satiny softness. It was so good, and he pushed further forward, knowing from the sounds Legolas made that he wanted this just as badly.

Glorfindel opened his eyes then, and looked at Legolas. He was breathing fast, making those little sighs that Glorfindel loved to hear, and when Legolas looked back at him, he almost knew what it was – what had changed... because for all the pleasure, and all the longing – it was more than this – more than lust.

“Roch neth…“ he sighed again. “You are so beautiful like this!”

Legolas moaned and reached up for him, his lips parted, begging for a kiss that Glorfindel was all too glad to give. He had missed this, there was no denying it – he had missed the youth’s unique taste that was sweet as honey, so innocent still and yet laced with desire that was heady as a potent wine. Glorfindel fed on this sweetness greedily... He had hungered for this for so long, he did not think he could go without it ever again!

With every touch, he claimed Legolas anew, yet he still stayed gentle despite his need. He had been cruel many times before, but this time, he wanted to make Legolas his in kindness, in tenderness. Not because he was afraid of Elrond’s claim on the youth – no matter what Elrond might think, Legolas did not belong to him, nor would he ever. Even during the long days when Legolas had shared Elrond’s bed, Glorfindel was still aware that it was he who excited Legolas like no other ever would, not even a lover as kind and attentive as the Lord of Imladris could be.

No, this gentleness was for the two of them, because this was a part of him as well. Legolas was his – but he was Legolas’ too, with all parts of him, his wickedness, his love for games, as well as the more tender feelings he had so far tried to hide. But no longer – he would not lose Legolas again.

As he continued the slow leisurely pace, he listened, and smiled when he heard Legolas pleading with him for more, and faster, and harder. But he held back from it, even though it was what he wanted too, because he wanted to savour this.

Now he realised how important it was after the last few days when he had forbidden Legolas to make a sound, or to respond to him in any way. It wasn’t just the youth’s body he wanted, wonderful as it was to take him. In some ways it was as much about seeing him lost in passion, hearing him moan and plead, feeling his responses and knowing that he, Glorfindel, was causing them.

He wanted to keep at this for hours, drawing from Legolas everything he had to give until they were both exhausted and sleepy. The thought caused him to moan in appreciation, and he felt Legolas respond to that too, tightening around him so that despite what he wished he couldn’t help giving in to what Legolas asked of him.

Deeper, faster, and still Legolas’ body encouraged him to take more. He loved hearing Legolas’ needy little gasps of pleasure at every movement of his, and when he lost the race as Glorfindel took him faster, unable to draw breath quick enough, Legolas moaned, his inner muscles tightening around Glorfindel so that it was almost unbearable. And then it was. He came suddenly, grinding his hips forward while Legolas’ body drew his release from him.

When it was over, and he moved back, he finally appreciated how slender and fragile Legolas seemed to be, and the thought occurred to him that he must fill Legolas almost to the point of pain. He half-closed his eyes in lust as he pulled out slowly, Legolas whimpering at the sensation, because it was surely almost too much now that Glorfindel could feel Legolas’ release on his stomach. He reached down and closed his hand around Legolas’ softened member, pumping lightly once or twice so that Legolas arched up from the bed towards him with a surprised cry.

“You are mine to play with, roch neth, aren’t you?” he said wickedly, knowing that his words and actions excited Legolas as much as they excited him.

“Yes!” he called out desperately when Glorfindel squeezed very lightly. “I am yours, my Lord!” Only then did he let Legolas go, so that they could at last rest against each other, both of them warm and comfortable, at ease with each other for the first time in days.

He pulled Legolas into his embrace, savouring his body heat, and kissed him before sighing tiredly in happiness. He had missed this too, falling asleep with Legolas in his arms, and no sooner had he had the thought than he was sinking fast into reverie, already looking forward to the morning.

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When Legolas woke the next morning, it was a slow return to wakefulness, enjoying the comfort of sleeping in the arms of a warm body and the familiar scent that enveloped him. With a happy sigh he moved deeper into the other’s arms, the sound turning into a moan when he felt a large erection brushing his thigh. Only when he heard a familiar chuckle did he finally really wake, and when he saw that it was Glorfindel who was smiling down at him, he reached up for him and then drew him down for a kiss that left him breathless, but perfectly happy.

“Good morning, my Lord!” he whispered and smiled back at him. This was indeed perfection, and Legolas knew that he would gladly exchange a lifetime in Valinor for a morning like this.

“Good morning, roch neth,” Glorfindel purred, and the sound of the pet name Legolas had once so hated was enough now to make him tremble with desire. Glorfindel smirked, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to Legolas, and then slowly pulled the blanket off the two of them. Legolas shivered – not because it was cold, as the bright sunlight had already warmed the room. It was the excitement that made him react so, and maybe a last remnant of shyness as well, for Glorfindel had, by exposing their bodies, also exposed the fact that Legolas was just as aroused as Glorfindel – or maybe even more, for Legolas whimpered when he felt Glorfindel’s slow appraisal of his swollen length, and his shaft twitched and hardened even more.

Legolas took a deep breath when Glorfindel put his hand out to touch him there. The Lord laid the flat of his palm against Legolas’ erection, and Legolas moaned. Glorfindel’s hand was warm, and slightly rough. He caught Glorfindel’s slightly wicked smile, and he sighed in helpless need already.

“Please, my Lord! Don’t…” he pleaded, but it was useless, and he could already feel his body giving in. Without being able to stop it, he moved ever so slightly under Glorfindel’s hand, wanting to feel some friction, desperate for it. He imagined himself writhing at just one touch, rubbing himself against his Lord’s hand like a pet, and blushed at the image. But Glorfindel didn’t laugh at him as he half-expected. He didn’t move his hand either though, and as much as Legolas tried to fight it, he couldn’t help rubbing himself against Glorfindel’s palm, his hot skin, lifting his hips up until Glorfindel finally moved his hand away.

Breathless, and already frustrated, Legolas turned his head to look at Glorfindel.

“Prepare yourself for me, roch neth,” he ordered softly, pressing the bottle of oil into Legolas’ hand. He began to follow Glorfindel’s instructions immediately, not wanting the Lord to tease him anymore, but it wasn’t over yet. As he worked, Glorfindel lay back on the bed alone, and as Legolas watched with wide, hungry eyes, the Lord began to stroke himself.

He was completely stunned, and he forgot what he was doing in favour of watching. He had never seen anything so beautiful! Glorfindel seemed to ignore him now, and concentrated on what he was doing, so slowly moving his hand up and down that Legolas wondered how Glorfindel could tease himself in such a way. The Lord lifted his head slightly to watch what he was doing to himself, and at that point he also noticed Legolas.

Glorfindel moaned, although it sounded more like a lazy growl, before letting his head fall back, closing his eyes again. Then, with his eyes closed, he smiled. “Are you going to watch me find pleasure alone, or are you going to make yourself ready for me?” he asked casually.

Legolas gasped at the image of watching Glorfindel finding his pleasure, but as alluring as it sounded, he knew that it would be even better to feel Glorfindel when he found release inside him. Quickly he pushed another finger inside himself, then moaned and arched his back when Glorfindel crawled over to him like a large predator.

“Ready yet?” Glorfindel asked, and Legolas swallowed, again overcome by his Lord’s presence.

“Always,” he whispered, admitting to something that Glorfindel certainly already knew. “Always, for you!” He withdrew his fingers from his body, feeling empty now – an emptiness that could only be filled by his Lord’s heat!

With trembling fingers he poured some more oil onto his hands, then daringly reached out for Glorfindel, reverently massaging it into his hard flesh. He loved it to touch him like this – as in all other things, this part of Glorfindel was beautiful as well, and Legolas moistened his suddenly dry lips with his tongue as he thought about tasting him.

But there was no time for that now, not when Glorfindel had already told him what he wanted... and Legolas wanted that as well. Nevertheless he could not quite suppress a wistful sigh when he finally pulled back, and Glorfindel gave him a knowing look.

“Later,” he promised with a little laugh. “I’ll make you worship me the way you want, the way I deserve it, until your lips are so swollen and red that everybody will know what you have done – and be jealous of me.”

“Yes, my Lord,“ Legolas breathed, desiring his Lord even more now, and he willingly wrapped his legs around Glorfindel’s waist when he came to rest between his legs. “Do not make me wait now – I need you so!” he begged softly, raising a hand to tenderly stroke Glorfindel’s cheek.

Glorfindel chuckled and positioned himself, and when he slid deeply into Legolas’ tightness, they both moaned in pleasure.

Much later, when he lay in Glorfindel’s arms, snatching a few brief moments of heaven before he would have to see to Gîl, he reflected how easy it had been for them to fall back into what was familiar, and what was right for them. But now there was a slight difference. Now, he recognised the warm feeling that flowed through him, and he peppered Glorfindel’s skin with lazy but loving kisses until the Lord looked at him in amusement.

“Again, roch neth?” Glorfindel teased, and Legolas smiled, realising that Glorfindel didn’t understand what was behind his actions. Suddenly he felt the need to say it, and the words were on his lips, but before he could speak, Glorfindel did. “Ai! You are enough to exhaust even me!” he declared, sinking back onto the cushions as if wearied beyond hope of recovery. Legolas saw that, and thought of the last week, when he had been so exhausted, almost crawling from one to the other, and he shook his head in bewilderment. Then he laughed.

He laughed, and when he saw the curious look Glorfindel threw at him he laughed even more. But then, he realised that Glorfindel would want to know what he found so funny, and how could he say it? He couldn’t – not so that Glorfindel would understand. Not so that Glorfindel would remember that he had found some forgiveness in his heart. And the natural laughter changed into a kind of hopeless crying.

Legolas didn’t resist when he was pulled into Glorfindel’s embrace. After everything, it was a safe place to be, and he calmed while Glorfindel spoke soothing nonsense to him, remembering his feelings, recognising them. There wasn’t any other place he wanted to be, and so the tears really were useless.

Eventually, Glorfindel sighed; his breath ruffled Legolas’ hair so that he shifted a little. “Tonight you should go back to Elrond,” he said decisively, and Legolas actually felt pain at that statement. He feared for the child at first, because although he would have expected to feel it in his heart – he didn’t. Instinctively, he brought his hands to rest on his belly, fighting to draw breath. Why this? What was wrong?

“Please, don’t send me away,” he tried to say, but although his lips formed the words, they were silent, having not even the strength of a breath behind them.

“Legolas?” Glorfindel asked then, and he was so relieved to hear concern in Glorfindel’s voice that he breathed again, so suddenly he made a noise.

“Why?” he managed then, not waiting for Glorfindel to answer him. “I’ll try harder, my Lord!” he vowed desperately, pressing the kisses to Glorfindel chest again, this time with more than ardour and love, wanting to show the Lord that he could be pleasing if only he were given the chance.

“No, pen neth,” Glorfindel said softly, lifting his chin to stop him, “it is not that.” And then, as if he could see that Legolas didn’t believe him, he claimed Legolas’ lips, greedily taking all he could, until at last Legolas realised it was meant to be reassurance and comfort. Then he pulled back, both of them gazing at each other. Glorfindel looked troubled. “Truly, I want you more than I have ever wanted any other.” He spoke as if he had only now realised the fact, and then shook his head to clear it. “But you will return to Elrond tonight, if not sooner. I have my reasons, but you don’t need to worry about them.”

“But I –”

“Legolas!” Glorfindel rapped out, so that he took an involuntary breath of alarm, fearing to have displeased his love. “You will obey me in this as in everything else,” he said assuredly, and Legolas nodded in misery and confusion when Glorfindel waited expectantly for his agreement. When he saw that, Glorfindel smiled, and kissed Legolas again, this time more slowly and gently. “Besides,” he said, his voice turning soft and dangerous again. “I will give you something to think about while you are there.”

Slowly, he reached towards Legolas, resting the tip of one finger against his temptingly soft lips. He outlined the sweet mouth he so loved to kiss, and laughed softly when even that simple touch made Legolas’ eyes darken with desire and his heart beat fast with yearning.

“Legolas...” he breathed, and already Legolas moaned for him. “When you return to me, I’ll let you have what you wanted... I’ll let you use your sweet mouth to give me pleasure. Would you like that?”

Legolas moaned again, a sound full of helpless desire, and when Glorfindel slipped his finger into his mouth, Legolas closed his eyes in pleasure to lovingly draw on it, sucking on it as if it were already the part of Glorfindel he had so longed to taste.

“Yes... just like that!” Glorfindel purred and allowed Legolas another moment, but then pulled back with obvious regret. “But you have to be good now and behave, do you understand? We will have breakfast in the Hall, and you will not give me a reason to punish you later on.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Legolas sighed, but before he got up to finally get dressed, he once again drew Glorfindel’s hand towards himself to give it one last, worshipful kiss, and Glorfindel a look that was, while not quite reverent, still full of promise.