The Prisoner Of Imladris
Author: NA24
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Pairing(s): Legolas/Elrond, Legolas/Glorfindel
Warnings: graphic m/m sex, violence, BDSM, angst
Spoilers: none
Summary: When the kingdom of Mirkwood falls to darkness Legolas seeks help at Rivendell.
Nominated Category:
Most Angst: Books – Slash
Best Slave Fic: Books – Slash
Best Hurt/Comfort: Books – Slash
Chapter 33: Interlude
LEGOLAS
It has been a week since the tournament and Elrond is still delighting in the fact that his pet slave beat his twin sons at a sport they thought they were so skilled at.
"Much as I love them," he tells me wryly, "they can be terribly arrogant. This will teach them a lesson in humility." Elrond smirks as he caresses my naked body. We are lying in his bed, he having used me thoroughly. The Lord of Rivendell thinks he has 'rewarded' me for my victory. For me it was just another round of torment. My heart aches to be with Glorfindel, not with this depraved elf.
"Yes, my Lord." I murmur, playing the role of the compliant slave.
Elrond draws me into his arms and strokes my hair. I stare at the ceiling, wishing myself anywhere but here. Then he speaks.
"Legolas, I have to go away for a while."
This grabs my attention and I turn my gaze on him. "Away, my lord? Where"
"To Lothlorien, my dear elf. I received a letter from Arwen asking that I visit. She would come here but the forest roads are unsafe for an elf-maid to travel, even acompanied, and so I am going to see her myself."
My heart leaps at this news. Some time without Elrond. How wonderful!
Trying to keep my voice neutral, I toy with a lock of his sable hair. "How long will you be away for, my lord?"
Elrond smiles. "Six weeks, my slave. Why? Will you miss me?"
I drop my gaze momentarily, then look at him again from under my lashes. "But of course my Lord. My nights will not be the same without you."
Elrond eyes me for a moment, trying to work out just what I mean, but then decides to let it pass. Casually, I ask; "Will your sons be going along with you?"
The Lord of Rivendell nods. "Yes, as I said, the roads are unsafe. Orcs are abroad and it would not be safe for me to travel alone. They will accompany me."
I feel like leaping out of bed and dancing. A whole six weeks without Elrond and his accursed sons. Thank the valar!
My Lord's voice breaks through my joyful reverie. "I am leaving Erestor in charge. You will do whatever he asks of you, understood?"
Erestor? Oh gods, Elronds administrator is as dry as dust and full of his own importance. I just know he is looking forward to the opportunity to order everyone around, myself included. Already I can see long hours when I shall be asked to scribe for him and run errands. Still, I suppose it's better than having Elrond constantly pawing me.
"Yes, my Lord. I understand." I say, with a sigh.
Elrond laughs and draws me close for a kiss. "Don't sound so sad, my slave. A month is not so long, Erestor will doubtless keep you busy and the days will fly until my return. In the meantime, let us not waste time talking. I shall miss you while I am away so I will have my fill of you now."
He pushes me onto my back, ready to take me once more.
GLORFINDEL
I am out walking along the riverbank when I hear my name being called from above. Looking up, I am surprised to see Legolas sitting in a tree grinning down at me.
"What are you doing up there, my prince?" I ask, totally bewildered.
"Waiting for you, my love. I must speak with you. Walk on and wait for me at our usual meeting place. I will follow on in a few minutes."
Puzzled, I do as he says. Legolas sounds like he has good news, what could it be?
A few minutes walk later, I turn off the path and make my way through the trees to the fallen tree where we usually meet. Soon enough he arrives.
"You weren't seen?" I ask.
"No." he assures me, allaying my fears with a merry wink. A wink? The prince must have news indeed!
"Come." Legolas takes my hand and guides me to our usual seat. Once sitting, he pulls me close and claims my mouth in a long deep kiss. By now I am burning with curiosity.
"Enough torment!" I laugh. "Tell me your news."
Legolas smiles. "Elrond is leaving for a month and a half, and he's taking his horrible sons with him. He's going to visit Arwen in Lothlorien."
I clap my hands delightedly. "That is good news indeed, my love. When is he leaving?"
"In two days time. He's leaving Erestor in charge though. He doesn't like me."
I laugh at this. "Do not worry about Erestor. Yes, he's dry and pompous but if you are helpful to him he will be easy to live with. The elf lives for his work and that's about all. If you ask me, he needs a good -"
"Glorfindel!!" Legolas gasps, feigning shock. We laugh until we cry and then kiss until we are dizzy. After which, I hold him in my arms.
"I am glad of this break for you, my love. You need it. Elrond uses you tirelessly and it breaks my heart to hear you cry out in pain or to see you weary from long nights in his service. I am also glad his sons are going with him. They have not forgotten how you beat them in that archery contest and I fear they will want recompense for that insult."
Legolas shrugs. "Pride comes before a fall, meleth-nin. Besides, Elrond would be furious if they touched me. He's very possessive, as you well know."
I caress my love's blonde hair and kiss the top of his head. "Just be careful." I warn.
Our brief time together passes and we part. As I make my way back to the healing house, I digest this news. Perhaps this will mean more time together for Legolas and I. Every moment in his presence is a moment to treasure and I make up my mind to lavish as much attention on him as I can, nurturing our love for each other while we can.
LEGOLAS
At last the day arrives for Elrond to leave. In the lead up to his departure I have been as helpful and attentive as possible to my lord, not wanting him to realize that I actually can’t wait for him to go. I have helped him to pack for his journey and even saddled his horse. Now, we stand outside the stables saying our goodbyes. Elrond kisses my forehead in a proprietary manner. “Farewell, my lovely slave. I will miss having you to warm my bed at night. The elves of Lothlorien are cold creatures and I will count the days until I can have you again.”
He draws me closer and drops his voice so that no-one else can hear and slides his fingers into my hair, tightening his grip painfully. “Do not attempt to touch yourself while I am away, Legolas. I want you panting for it by the time I get back. You belong to me and nobody else. Remember that!”
I gasp with pain and bite my lip to stifle a cry. “Yes, my lord.” I manage.
The Lord of Rivendell chuckles and releases me. As I step back, I notice Elladan and Elrohir watching intently, a calculating look on their twin faces. Elrond mounts his horse and, with a last look in my direction, trots away down the path. As the twins ride past, Elladan moves his horse dangerously close, almost knocking me over. “See you soon, Mirkwood slut.” He hisses as I stumble back out of his horse’s path. Elrohir laughs and spurs on his horse. Together, they follow their father.
But even this cannot dampen my spirits. Six weeks of glorious freedom stretch out before me. Eagerly, I turn my steps towards the healing house but a voice calls me back.
“Legolas, you will attend me in the library. Lord Elrond asked that your days be filled and I will require your help. Come along now, quickly.”
With a sigh and a muttered sindarin oath, I follow Erestor indoors. Glorfindel will have to wait.
The day drags along. As anticipated, Erestor dictates letter after letter which I have to scribe for him until my hand grows weary from writing and my senses are dulled from his low monotone voice. At one point I feel myself getting drowsy and have to excuse myself to bathe my face in cold water to waken myself. Looking longingly out the window, I catch sight of Glorfindel making his way to the herb garden, basket in hand. How I wish I could be with him.
“Legolas? Legolas, are you listening to me?”
I snap back to reality to find Erestor glowering at me. “I’m sorry, my lord. I missed that last line. If you could repeat it again?”
The elf sighs and looks out the window. The sun is beginning to set. A loud growl from my empty stomach convinces him that the day is done.
“That will be all for today, young elf. We will continue our work tomorrow. You may go.”
Gratefully I get to my feet. “Thank you, my Lord.” I say, making a quick exit before he changes his mind.
Going to the kitchen, I pack a small basket with some food and a little wine and make my way outside, determined to enjoy what’s left of the dying day. I make my way to the herb garden where I see Glorfindel on his knees, his back to me as he tends his plants. With a wicked smile, I put down my basket and creep up behind him, using all my skill to remain silent. Then, at the last moment, I spring upon him, wrestling him to the ground. My love shouts in alarm but bursts into laughter as he realises it is I .”By Elbereth, Legolas. Are you trying to kill me?” he laughs as I pin him down.
“Indeed no.” I reply. “I just couldn’t resist surprising you. I’m just happy to have finally escaped Erestor’s dusty clutches for the day.”
The healer chuckles. “I had a feeling he would keep you imprisoned indoors to assist him, my prince, but it is good to finally see you.” Glancing quickly round, he steals a kiss. Luckily, the herb garden is a secluded spot and we are quite alone. I draw the basket near. “Will you dine with me, my love” I ask.
We sit on the grass, safely hidden by the high hedge that surrounds the herb garden and enjoy the relative peace and freedom of knowing I will not be summoned by Elrond. Lingering over our small picnic, we feed each other morsels of food washed down with the sweet wine which we share by the mouthful, lips joining to share each draught. Afterwards, our apettites sated, we lie together staring up at the sky, watching for the first stars of the evening to appear. My head rests on the healer’s chest and his hands idly stroke my face and hair. Never since I have come to Rivendell have I known such peace.
A sigh escapes me. “What is it, my love?” Glorfindel asks softly.
“I shouldn’t really think about the future, for it is yet too far away but…”
“You were thinking how it would be to spend each evening like this?”
“Yes.”
Glorfindel sighs. “I was thinking that same thought, my love. Let us enjoy this interlude for now and hope that the lady Elbereth will look down kindly upon us and hasten your freedom.”
Tears spring to my eyes and I clasp the healer’s hand. “I pray for that every day.” I tell him.
“As do I.” He replies.
Darkness comes and the moon rises. At last, having grown cold, we leave the garden and make our way back up the winding paths. Our route leads us under a low bridge and it is there that we stop to hold each other and kiss before taking separate ways. I to the house of Elrond and my love to the healer’s house. Glorfindel leans his head against mine and gazes deep into my eyes. “Until tomorrow, my sweet prince.” He whispers.
I kiss him, long and lingering. “Until tomorrow, healer of my heart.”
A last hug, a smile, and we part for the night. When I reach my room, I light my lamp and undress, sliding gratefully under sheets I know will remain undisturbed tonight. I lie awake for awhile, reliving our wonderful evening until at last my eyes droop and I slip into a blissfully peaceful sleep.
Chapter 34: Interruption
Glorfindel
It has been a month since Elrond’s departure and never have I seen Legolas as happy as he is now. True, Erestor keeps him busy indoors most days but, his evenings being his own, are spent with me. The herb garden has become our place of solace where we spend our time talking, kissing and enjoying our precious stolen moments. Even now we are here, but for once we are not idle. Legolas and I are kneeling side by side planting marjoram and fennel. I glance at my love to see him happily working, his hands in the rich dark earth, a small smile on his face. It is good to see him smile so often now. I chuckle as I notice a smudge of dirt on his cheek and he turns an enquiring glance at me.
“What’s the joke?” he asks, blue eyes dancing with merriment. Oh, how I love to see him like this!
“You’ve got dirt on your face, scruffy elf.” I tell him. A hand flashes out, smearing dirt on my brow.
“So have you.” Legolas laughs.
I pick up the watering can. “Better wash it off then.” I growl.
The prince squeals and jumps to his feet. I give chase, managing to soak him quite thoroughly but he simply laughs gaily and scoops water from a fountain to return the favour. Soon we are both wet through, laughing like two giddy elflings.
“Come, my love.” Laughs Legolas. “Let us go and dry off before we become chilled.”
We make our way to the healing house. I have no patients at the moment so we are alone. Leading my love to my bedroom, I hand him a spare robe to wear while I hang his clothes up to dry. As he puts it on, Legolas glances over at the bed and smiles.
“What are you thinking of, my love?” I ask.
The prince blushes prettily. “I was remembering the first time I saw you lying there. You were half-naked and pleasuring yourself. Never had I seen anything so beautiful.”
Now it is my turn to blush. “Ah, I remember that. You ran when I noticed you.”
“But not before I heard you say my name.” The young elf replies. “How astonished I was to know you desired me.”
I smile and move forward to take him in my arms. “I desired you from the moment you came to Rivendell, my dearest prince. I never dared to hope that you would return my love.”
“But I do, with all my heart.” Legolas says sincerely. He looks at the bed again and smiles. “You were indeed a sight to behold, my love.”
This gives me an idea. “Care to return the favour?” I ask.
Legolas raises an eyebrow, an impish smile on his face. “You wish to watch?” he asks.
I look him straight in the eye. “I think it’s only fair.” I say, folding my arms.
The young elf laughs. “Alright then. But you must only watch. No touching allowed.”
“You seek to tease me then?”
“Indeed. Now sit in that chair and I will give you something to watch.”
I move to the chair, surprised at the young prince’s openness. But it is good that he feels confident around me. After his harsh treatment by Elrond I would have expected him to refuse my request but perhaps it is a good sign. An expression of his love for me. I feel privileged indeed.
I watch as Legolas lets the robe slip to the floor and lays himself down on the bed. By the valar, he is beautiful! Long blonde hair flowing across the pillow. Lean, lithe body stretched out on the bed, the mithril rings in his nipples gleaming in the candlelight. I watch with bated breath as my love begins a slow dance of pleasure with himself solely for my benefit.
Lazily, Legolas skims his fingertips across his chest, circling round his nipples. One hand moves lower to stroke his stomach, then lower still, bypassing his genitals to smooth over one thigh. His other hand gently tugs on a nipple ring and the prince’s pink lips part in a silent gasp of pleasure.
The hand on his thigh moves upwards again, nails leaving light tracks that quickly disappear but make him hiss with pleasure. Back up it goes to join the other hand in toying with his beringed nipples. This seems to be the one good thing Elrond has done to Legolas. The young prince’s nipples are so sensitive now that even to caress them through his clothing makes him whimper, as I have often experienced, much to my delight.
I sit, spellbound as my love writhes on the bed. His cock is standing hard and erect now, bobbing in the air as he moves. One slender leg bends, toes curling against the sheets and the young elf gives a little mewl as, at last, he closes his fingers round his throbbing erection and begins to stroke languidly.
I cannot help myself. Letting my robe fall open, I reach for my own hardened shaft and begin to move it in time with my love’s. Legolas’ eyes open and fix upon me and he moans wantonly as he sees the effect he has wrought upon me. Not taking our eyes off each other, we stroke ourselves to the brink of orgasm and pause there, neither of us wanting this to end.
“Legolas!” I gasp. “Oh valar. So beautiful.”
“Glor…so close.” Moans Legolas. “Can’t hold on much longer.”
“Then finish it. Let me see you come.” I manage through gritted teeth.
Still keeping his eyes fixed on mine, the young prince quickens his pace. His laboured breathing grows more ragged, his eyes widen and he cries out. “Glor! Coming! Ai! Ai! Aaaaahhh!”
The prince’s body convulses and an arc of pearlescent fluid arcs into the air to rain in little droplets onto his body. The sight is enough to make me reach my own peak and I paint my skin in the same fashion. For a few moments we remain where we are, both of us smiling dazedly at each other as we recover our wits and breath. Then I take a cloth and wipe myself clean before sitting down on the bed beside my love. Legolas sighs with pleasure as I lick each drop of his essence from his body before running the cloth over his skin. When finished, I lay down beside him and gather him into my arms. The young elf sighs contentedly and wriggles as close as possible until our two bodies are almost one. Sleep claims us both before we even realize it.
Legolas
Mmmmm…..what a lovely dream. Lying in Glorfindel’s bed with his arms around me. Wish it were real. Any minute now I'm going to wake and see Elrond’s ugly face beside me. Valar only knows what he’s going to want to do with me when he wakes.
A bird trills outside the window and reluctantly my eyes open and I realize that I really am in Glorfindel’s bed. Valar be praised! Then it comes back to me. Elrond’s away! I sigh with delight and look at Glorfindel who is still sleeping. It is early yet. Almost dawn. We must have slept the whole night through. I hope I was not missed from the house. But then nobody but Elrond comes to my room and he is not here. Chances are nobody noticed my absence but in any case, I must leave and return there now. Make it appear I was there all night. Gently, I remove Glorfindel’s arm from across my chest. The movement wakens him and he watches as I retrieve my clothes.
“Must you leave, my prince.” He asks reproachfully.
I lean down to kiss him. “I’m afraid so, dear one. I do not wish it to be known that I was absent all night. Elrond could hear and I would be severely punished. Besides, he would want to know where I spent the night. I do not wish to put you in danger, my love.”
The healer nods. “You are right, meleth-nin. But I shall miss you. How wonderful it was to spend the night with you in my arms.”
I sit on the bed and stroke his cheek, looking deep into his eyes. “One day, we will be able to spend every night together.” I tell him.
Minutes later, I take my leave of Glorfindel. I meet no-one on my way back to the house and quietly I let myself in. Returning to my room, I bathe and dress in some fresh clothes before going to breakfast. The day passes as usual, spent in Erestor’s company. Dull as he is, I have come to know him over the past month and have discovered that he does in fact like me. He spent some time in Mirkwood many years ago and shared some fond memories with me that made me feel almost homesick. Also, he praised my diligence in my work.
“Much better than those dull-witted twins.” He remarks, making me bite my lip to stifle a giggle.
The laughter dies on my lips as I think of Elrond and his son’s imminent return. Only two weeks more and this happy time will be at an end. My days and nights will once more be filled with fear and pain. With a sigh, I turn back to my work and push the thought from my mind, determining to enjoy the remaining days while I can.
Evening comes and I make my way to the healing-house, eager to see Glorfindel. Alas, it is not to be as the healer is nursing an elfling who fell in the river today and almost drowned. “He almost died.” My love tells me gravely. “And is still very weak. I’m afraid I must stay with him.”
“Never mind.” I reassure him. “Your work comes first. I will see you tomorrow.”
Stealing a quick kiss, I leave and find myself at a bit of a loose end. What to do now?
After a moment’s thought I head to the stables to visit my horse, Stormcloud. I feel guilty as I have neglected him of late. Favouring the healer with my presence instead. I make a quick detour back to the house for an apple to offer as a treat, hoping the animal will not be hurt at my long absence.
At the stable door, I meet Cyrin, the stable boy leading out two horses. “Good evening, Cyrin. Where are you off to at this late hour?”
The boy smiles at me. We know each other well at this stage and regard each other as friends. “I must take these horses down to the lower gate. They belong to some travellers who stayed here last night and are now leaving. Can you keep an eye to the horses while I am gone?”
“It will be a pleasure.” I reply. The stable boy thanks me and leaves, leading the horses away.
Knowing it will be a while before he gets back, I take my time, greeting each horse in turn as I move down through the stalls, stopping now and then to stroke the nose of a favourite or comfort a skittish one with soft words. At last I see Stormcloud in his stall and he whinnies in greeting.
“Hello, my friend. I am glad to see you have not forgotten me. Forgive my long absence.” I tell him contritely. The horse snorts and pushes his head against my hand as if to tell me not to worry and eagerly takes the apple I offer him.
So engrossed am I in talking to my horse that I do not hear soft footfalls approaching. Stormcloud’s head jerks up sharply, suddenly alert. But by then it is too late. A hand grabs my hair, forcing my head back and the cold steel of a blade scrapes against my throat. I do not have to turn my head to know who it is when I hear a mocking voice in my ear. “It’s payback time, little slut!”
I stiffen, afraid to move in case the blade bites deeper. “Elladan” I gasp.
“Correct. I bet you weren’t expecting us back so soon, were you? Unfortunately, Lothlorien was so dull we decided to return home early. Ada will follow on in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, you’re ours!”
A cold chill of fear runs through me at his words. “Your father will never allow it.” I hiss.
Elladan laughs derisively. “By then it will be too late.” He mocks.
Suddenly there is a loud commotion beside us. Stormcloud rears angrily, whinnying shrilly and pawing the air. Startled, Elladan steps backward, loosening his grip on me. Seizing the opportunity my faithful steed had given me, I elbow the elf sharply in the ribs, winding him. As he doubles over, I bolt for the door. I must get away from here! But just as I reach the door, Elrohir steps through it and hits me hard on the head with the hilt of his sword. As I sink into unconsciousness, I send a desperate prayer to the Valar to save me.
Chapter 35: Violation
LEGOLAS
I open my eyes to find myself looking at the darkening sky. Night is falling and thick clouds are gathering, threatening rain. My head aches and I am conscious of the breeze on my naked skin. Why am I naked? Suddenly I remember what has happened. I try to move but quickly discover my hands are bound, arms held tightly behind my back. Raising my head I look around and find myself in the clearing with the fallen tree where Glorfindel and I often meet.
But no lovers tryst is this! Leaning against the fallen tree-trunk I see the sons of Elrond. Both are engrossed in kissing and fondling one another lasciviously. Elrohir catches sight of me and smiles nastily. “Look brother, our little slut is awake.” Both stride over and stand leering down at my prone body. Trying not to show any fear I glare back at them. “Vile creatures!” I snarl. “Free me this instant!” I struggle with the ropes at my wrists to no avail.
Elladan’s lip curls in a sneer. “You are in no position to make demands, Mirkwood slut. You will pay for making us look fools at the archery contest.”
My heart thuds in fear. Glorfindel warned me I had incurred their wrath but I was sure the fact that I was their father’s slave would protect me. Why didn’t I listen?
Elrohir seizes my arm and pulls me on to my knees. “We are going to have some fun with you, slave. A foretaste of what will come when you are ours.”
“I will never be yours! Lord Elrond will not allow it!”
“Ah, but once we have had you, you will be soiled goods.” Elladan says. “Do you really think father will want you then? He owned a horse once. A beautiful horse that we coveted. Ada would not let us ride it. But one day, we took him out and rode him hard until he came back exhausted and half-lame. Ada was so angry about it, but in the end, we got what we wanted. We always get what we want.”
“May the valar curse you both for this.” I hiss, knowing I cannot prevent them from doing what they want to me. All I can do is hope that it will end quickly, but I will not give in without a fight.
Elrohir undoes his leggings and frees his long hard cock. Elladan grabs a handful of my hair and jerks my head back and I realize what Elrohir is about to do.
“If you put that anywhere near my mouth I will bite it off!” I threaten.
The twin chuckles and produces a strange device, an iron ring with a leather strap on each side. “We will see about that.” He says. “Hold him ‘dan.”
Elladan holds my head in a tight grip and Elrohir tries to force the device into my mouth but I grit my teeth and refuse to open my jaws. After a few moments struggle, Elrohir tires of my resistance and punches me hard in the stomach. I double over, gasping for breath. Elladan pulls me upright and I cannot prevent Elrohir forcing the iron ring into my mouth. He settles it behind my teeth and ties the straps firmly in place. The strange gag holds me mouth wide open. I whimper, knowing what is to come.
Then Elladan pushes my legs apart and settles between them. I feel his hard shaft brush against my rear and again I fight, but with the two of them holding me, it is hopeless.
Elrohir forces his hard length into my mouth, holding my hair tightly. I can do nothing to prevent it. Elladan bends me forward slightly and then penetrates my arse. The pain is so intense that I scream. Having not lain with Elrond for a few weeks, my entrance has tightened considerably and there is no salve there to ease the passage. The son of Elrond thrusts into me savagely while his twin mercilessly fucks my mouth.
“Ah, brother, you should feel how tight the little slut is. It’s wonderful. No wonder Ada enjoys him so.” Elladan gasps. He pushes harder into me, making me scream again. Elrohir moans wantonly.
“Ai, ‘dan, make him scream again. It feels so good.” Elrohir moans as he thrusts down my throat. Elladan grabs my hips, pulling me hard against him and I cry out, my scream stifled by the thick column of flesh in my mouth. For what seems like an eternity, they violate me thus until Elrohir gasps, shudders and pours his seed down my throat, making me choke. He loosens his grip on me and stumbles back a step. As soon as my head is free, I jerk it backwards as hard as I can, ignoring the pain in my lower regions. My skull collides with Elladan’s face and there is a crunching sound. The elf screams and flings me to the ground. Twisting around, I see Elrond’s son clutching his nose, blood spurting through his fingers. I smile grimly round the gag. Elrohir runs to help him and they use my discarded shirt to staunch the bloodflow.
“You snivelling piece of dirt!” Elrohir rages. “Look at what you have done!”
Left loose, I struggle to my feet and try to run from the clearing but I only manage a few steps before Elrohir tackles me, bringing me down heavily. I snarl and twist round, aiming a kick at him. However, my bare feet make little impression and seconds later he retaliates, raining blows on me with his booted feet. Elladan watches, still holding the bloodsoaked shirt to his face, enjoying the spectacle.
By the time Elrohir tires of this, I am in great pain. Blood coats my face, my lower lip shredded by my own teeth. My eyes are swelling shut. My entire torso is a sea of pain from numerous vicious kicks. I hear a crack at one point and know that one of my ribs has broken. Some of my fingers hang useless behind my back. Broken when Elrohir stamped on them. Throughout it all I tried desperately not to scream.
“Get him on his feet.” Sniffles Elladan. “I haven’t finished with him yet.”
Elrohir pulls me upright and drags me to the fallen tree. There, he pushes me across it. A moment later, Elladan seizes me roughly and penetrates me again. He pounds into me mercilessly until finally, he comes inside me with a groan. Then they change places and force me to my knees again. This time Elrohir fucks me while Elladan uses my mouth. Finally, they finish and throw me aside like a discarded piece of refuse. Elrohir leans over me to remove the gag and I moan as my stiff jaw is once again able to move. It begins to rain heavily, large drops splashing on my violated body.
Aiming a final kick to my ribs, the twins leave me lying in the clearing. Never have I felt so wretched and violated. I sob like an elfling, all alone in the rain. Eventually, mercifully, I pass out.
Glorfindel
The morning dawns bright and clear. It rained heavily last night and there is a cool freshness in the air that has banished the close heat of yesterday. A well-needed respite for the flowers and plants that adorn Rivendell. I busy myself with chores around the healing-house, seeing to my patient, the young elfling who almost drowned. He will be fit to be discharged to his family later on. I tidy my storeroom and make a note to distill more lavender essence. Keeping busy, I hum an elvish song. Legolas will be busy as usual with Erestor and I will not see him until this evening, so I will keep myself occupied until then to pass the time.
Just then, Erestor himself enters the healing-house. “Good morning, Glorfindel.” He greets me with a bow. I bow in return, mindful that Elrond’s administrator likes to observe formality. “Good morning, Erestor, what can I do for you. Do you have an ailment?”
The elf shakes his head. “Actually, I was looking for Legolas. He did not show up this morning to help me and, seeing as how he is often to be found in your company, I decided to look here first.”
I stare at Erestor. “I have not seen him since yesterday.” I reply, remembering how I was too busy to spend time with him. The young elf was disappointed but seemed happy enough to find something else to occupy his time. “He said something about going to the stables to see his horse.”
The administrator shrugs, obviously vexed. “Well, if you see him, send him to me. It is not like the young elf to be disobedient. I’m surprised.”
“I will search for him when my work here is done.” I tell him. Worry growing in my mind.
When Erestor has gone, I wander over to the window and look up to Legolas’ bedroom window. The lamp there is out. I was too busy to look for it’s light last night and I feel guilty, as if I’ve neglected him. As soon as this young elfling is gone home I will look for him.
Afternoon comes and at last I am free to leave the healing-house. I wander down to the stables and talk to Cyrin. Yes, Legolas was here yesterday. Cyrin asked him to watch the horses while he went on an errand but when the stable-boy returned the prince was nowhere to be seen. Again, I hear the phrase ‘It’s not like him’ and my worry grows. I wander the paths, lost in thought, but keeping an eye out for my love. Eventually, I find myself drawing close to the clearing where we often meet. It’s as good a place to look as any. I step through the trees into the clearing and catch sight of a pale form on the forest floor. Oh no, surely not?
Indeed it is! My poor Legolas lies on the ground unconscious. I gasp in horror as I see his injuries and his bound hands tell me that this was no accident. Who could have done this to him? I call his name, but the prince is unresponsive. Quickly untying him, I run my hands over his pale chilled body, searching for broken bones. As my hand moves over his chest he gives a sharp intake of breath telling me a rib is broken. Some of his fingers are bent at an odd angle and I realize they too are broken. His poor face is a mess, both eyes black and swollen, nose bloody and lips split, dark bruises cover his beautiful body and I weep at the sight of my poor love. Unclasping my cloak, I wrap it round the frail elf, concealing his nakedness, then I carry him back to the healing-house as quick as I can.
Cyrin meets me on the way back and is horrified to see me carrying Legolas.
“What has happened to him, master healer?” He asks, staring at the prince’s abused face. “An accident.” I say. Not knowing what else to tell him. I must get him inside quickly. “Go tell Erestor I have found him.”
Once inside, I lay Legolas down on the bed. He moans softly in pain. “Easy, my love.” I whisper. “You are in safe hands now.”
It is only when I am cleaning him that I notice the blood between his thighs. On further investigation I realize that he has been raped viciously. And more than once too. A white-hot anger burns through me and I fling the basin across the room. It shatters against the wall, splashing water everywhere. Whoever did this shall pay with their life!
Chapter 36: Lothlorien
ELROND
It is good to see my beloved daughter again. Every time I think Arwen cannot grow any more beautiful, she amazes me with yet another flush of beauty, like a rose that blooms ceaselessly. We walk in the Golden Wood and talk for long hours, exchanging news of our respective lives. She in Lothlorien, I in Rivendell. The only thing I do not mention is Legolas. She will not understand and I do not wish her to know this side of me. She sees me as a wise and loving, yet distant father. But I would not have this distance between us. She belongs in Rivendell, not among the aloof elves of Lothlorien. But Arwen seems happy here. She talks of her friends and her schooling, some of which is personally given by Galadriel, her grandmother. It seems the two have grown very close. Which I suppose I should be grateful for as Arwen needs a female figure in her life. Celebrian, Arwen’s mother, went into the west when Arwen and the twins were very young, leaving me to father all three of them. My relationship with Celebrian was never what it should have been. I tried to love her but she could not supplant the place in my heart occupied by my dead lover. Maybe no-one can. The twins were boisterous and headstrong young elves and it was a full-time job for me to rear them, leaving little time for me to spend with my quieter daughter. When Galadriel suggested she come to Lothlorien to spend some time there and be educated by her, I thought it the best thing. But still…she has been here so long.
It is night in Lothlorien and a full moon. I walk alone beneath the great Mallorn trees, festooned with the ethereal lights that twinkle in their branches. The moon is full, painting everything silver and the night is warm. Unable to sleep, I pace the soft grass barefoot, listening to the soft elvish singing drifting down from above. Small wonder that Arwen loves this place.
My thoughts drift to Legolas. I wonder how he fares. Is Erestor keeping him busy? I hope he is obeying my command not to pleasure himself in my absence. I want him willing and eager for me when I return. The thought brings a flush of heat to my groin and I am glad of the loose robe I chose to wear this evening. I think of my slave, naked and spread out on my bed. Hair loose and unbraided in a golden sheet, eyes downcast and submissive as he waits for me to touch him, to use him, bring him to the heights of passion I am all too good at taking him to…whether he wants it or not. I smile to myself. I have come to know Legolas’ body almost as well as my own and I know just where to touch him to make him moan, whimper or scream. I sigh wistfully. I promised Arwen I would stay another two weeks but it seems like a lifetime before I can return home to my slave. My sons have grown restless here and have absented themselves to journey to Minas Tirith and then on to Rohan on the premise of purchasing new horses. Feeling in an indulgent mood, I furnished them with gold for the journey and bade them meet me back at Rivendell. Our journey to Lothlorien proved uneventful, the rumours of orcs abroad proving unfounded. On speaking to Haldir, Marchwarden of Lothlorien, he tells me the borders of this land have been unassailed for quite some time and that I have nothing to fear. This is reassuring news. It seems, in the wake of Sauron being cast out of Mirkwood, his spirit has gone to ground in the far east of Mordor, along with his orcs and fell beasts. Long may they remain there and leave us in peace.
“And how is Legolas?” Haldir enquired, when I spoke with him. “Is he still…your guest?”
I look at the Marchwarden and he eyes me in his usual cool, aloof fashion, betraying no emotion.
“He is well.” I tell him, holding his gaze. The Lothlorien elf nods.
“Tell the Prince I send my fondest regards. Tell him his friends are thinking of him.”
With that he bows and leaves my presence.
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding in. The elf knows the truth of his friends position in my household but can do nothing about it. I do however know that it angers him and I am careful not to bring up the subject of my slave when he is around. He is, after all, responsible for my safety here.
Nor does Galadriel approve. We have already exchanged heated words on the matter. She expressing her disapproval of the whole affair and I defending my right to Legolas.
“I tell you Elrond, you are storing up trouble for yourself. If the elves of Mirkwood discover the truth there will be major political repurcussions. It will damage relations between Imladris and Mirkwood badly. It may even cause outright war.”
“The son of Thranduil asked for my help to save Mirkwood, and I gave it.” I argue.
“And you in turn bound him in service as your whore.” Galadriel snaps “If Thranduil finds out what you have done to his son he will be livid, and Lothlorien will not defend you. You know we do not approve of this and I hope you will reconsider and grant him his freedom before it is too late.”
“That is for me to decide.” I say, glaring at the Lady.
Galadriel rises to leave. “Yes. It is. I hope you make the right decision, Elrond. For his sake and for yours.”
Since our conversation this afternoon, I have been wrestling with my conscience. It will be autumn when I return and Legolas will have been with me for a year and a half. He has become a submissive and compliant slave and, other than the occasional flash of spirit or bad temper, I have not had to punish him much of late. However, even though he has settled into his role as my slave, I would like to see some sign of affection from him towards his master. I have tried pleasuring his body, giving him small gifts, keeping him by my side in the hope that physical closeness will breed a seed of love in his heart. But I have yet to see any sign of that. Perhaps I never will? Am I being foolish? Binding the Prince of Mirkwood to me in the vain hope that he will grow to love me, yet depriving him of those he loves? But another darker part of me wants him, craves him, and I cannot let him go.
My feet have taken me to a small clearing where, on a pedestal, stands Galadriel’s mirror. Beside it stands a tall silver jug of water. All who want to are permitted to look in the mirror. But surprisingly few do. The mirror can show the past and the future, and also probable future events. It is difficult to discern the truth from the many apparitions that appear in its watery depths, which is why most elves leave it alone.
But tonight, my troubled mind seeks an answer, some kind of guide as to what to do about Legolas. And so I pour the water into the shallow pan, waiting for the ripples to still before looking in.
At first all I see is the starry sky above reflected in the dark water. Then it shimmers and an image appears. I see my own bedchamber in Rivendell. Two naked bodies on the bed, one dark haired on top, the face obscured by long hair. I assume it to be mine. Yes, the dark-haired figure turns his head and I see that it is indeed myself. Beneath me lies Legolas. He turns his face away from my mirror-image and I see tears shimmering on his cheeks as I use his body. I shift uncomfortably, watching as he weeps silently.
The image changes, and again it is Legolas weeping. But this time, I see him lying on leaves, rain beating down on his naked skin. He looks beaten, bruised and in pain. What does this mean? Is it an image of the future? What will happen to him?
Again the image changes and this time I gasp aloud as Legolas smiles up at me from the mirror’s depths. He looks luminous. Lit from within with happiness. I have never seen him smile like that before and I am captivated, my heart beating like the wings of a butterfly in my breast. As I watch, he speaks the words “Amin Mela Ile”. I love you!
The image fades and the mirror grows dark but I remain staring into it. All I can think of is; //He said he loved me. He said he loved me. Loved me!//
“What did you see?”
The voice startles me and I turn to see Galadriel standing in the clearing.
“Legolas…” I say, my voice trailing off in wonder at what I have just seen.
“Then I hope what you saw has helped you to come to a decision.” She says.
I step away from the pedestal. “It has. I leave in the morning. Give my apologies to Arwen, tell her I had pressing business at home. I will write to her soon.”
With that, I walk from the clearing, my mind in a whirl. Somewhere in the future, Legolas will say he loves me. I will find a way to win his heart. I will. As I go to pack I think about what to do. Perhaps I should tell him how I feel. I could release him, let him journey home to visit his family on the condition that he return to me regularly for the rest of his time of service. I will approach him softly and with affection. I have been going about it all the wrong way. Hope surges in my heart and I yearn now to return to Imladris as quickly as possible.
GALADRIEL
I watch Elrond leave the clearing and heave a troubled sigh. My son-in-law is often very impetuous. I hope the mirror showed him the right thing to do about Legolas. So many times have images been misinterpreted. I was not here to see what he saw so I can only hope it will not lead to heartache for either of them.
Chapter 37: Consummation
LEGOLAS
I awaken to find myself in the healing house once again. Glorfindel leans over me anxiously, a look of loving concern on his face. “Legolas, my love. How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”
I cannot bear to look at him. Glorfindel warned me that the sons of Elrond might seek retribution upon me and I did not listen, thinking that I would be safe because their father is my master. How wrong I was! Now I feel so used and dirty. How can Glorfindel still love me after I have been used so?
I turn away, hiding my face in the pillow, but my loving healer is not to be deterred and follows me round to the other side of the bed. “Legolas. Look at me. Please speak to me. Have I done you wrong?” he asks, his green eyes full of hurt. This is too much and I give way to tears.
“You have done nothing wrong, meleth-nin. It is me. You must know that I have been used and by whom. How can you think me still worthy of your love?”
Glorfindel suddenly looks angry and he takes me by the shoulders, shaking me a little. “Do not speak so, my prince. This is none of your doing. How could I not stop loving you? You are still the same sweet gentle elf that I fell in love with. Nothing has changed for me. Nothing has happened to make me feel that you are less than you were yesterday and I will not have you think of yourself like that. I love you, Legolas. And nothing will ever stop me from feeling this way.”
I look into the earnest depths of my healer’s green eyes and realise that he speaks the truth. But I still feel shame. It was bad enough having Elrond use my body but at least I was able to keep my dignity. His sons took even that from me.
“I know you love me, Glorfindel, as I love you. But I cannot help feeling this way. You must understand how I feel right now. You tended to my injuries so you know what has been done to me. I am sure you have guessed who was responsible.”
The healer nods and sighs. “Ai, I have. The accursed twins. You have been treated disgracefully. When Elrond finds out-“
My eyes fly wide open and I grab Glorfindel’s arm with my uninjured hand. “NO! He mustn’t know!”
Glorfindel looks astounded. “But why? They are his sons. They must be punished.”
“If he finds out that they have had me he will not want me anymore. He will give me to them. Please, my love. I would rather suffer as Elrond’s slave and bear this disgrace in secret than become their toy again. Nobody must know!” I beg.
The healer looks far from happy. “This outrage cannot go unpunished. When I find them-“
“You will not find them, my love. The last thing I heard them say was that they were heading for Rohan. They will be gone for some time. Besides, I do not want you fighting them on my behalf. They would kill you.”
Glorfindel looks at me sternly. “I was once a great warrior, my prince. There are some things elves do not forget. I may have to wait some time for retribution, but I swear by the Valar, I will have it.”
I take the hand of my beloved healer and bring it to my lips. “Beloved one. I will die if anything happens to you.”
My love gives me a grim smile. “Then I will be careful that nothing does happen to me. Rest now, Legolas. Do not upset yourself further. We will discuss this at a later point. For now, you need to recover. Erestor was here earlier. I told him it seemed you had been attacked by bandits who had somehow slipped past our borders. He has ordered more guards to patrol the area.”
“You did not tell him that I was-?”
The healer smiles kindly. “Of course not, my love. Erestor is a terrible gossip and there are some things he does not need to know. Come now, it is late and you should sleep some more. It will help you to heal. I myself will also retire for the night.”
I settle back on the pillows and watch as Glorfindel tidies up, blows out the candles and quenches the fire. As it grows darker, I feel nervous. I do not feel safe anymore. When the healer comes to bid me goodnight I take his hand and look at him with frightened eyes. “Please, my love. I do not wish to be alone tonight. I know it is foolish but I fear I will not be safe alone.”
The healer thinks for a moment, a frown furrowing his beautiful brow. Then he pulls back the sheets and gathers me into his arms. I wince a little at the pain in my side. The cracked rib is yet to heal.
Glorfindel gently places a kiss on my lips. “Then you shall not be alone.”
He carries me to his own room and lays me down upon the big feather bed, pulling the heavy covers over me. I watch as he moves about the room setting things in order. Then my beloved undresses and I sigh at the sight of his golden body naked and glowing in the candlelight. “My love. How beautiful you are. Elbereth blessed me the day I met you.” I tell him fervently.
Glorfindel actually blushes at this, casting his eyes down shyly. I watch as he unbraids his hair, brushing it until it hangs in a golden cascade about his shoulders. Then he extinguishes the candles and climbs into bed with me. At last, as his arms slide around me and I am gently pulled into his embrace, I feel safe. For a while, I lie there, content to be in his arms. Then inevitably, sleep claims me.
GLORFINDEL
I have dreamed of this moment for so long. Of falling asleep with my beautiful prince in my arms. But never did I think it would happen this way. Impotent anger burns through me at the thought of the sons of Elrond harming this gentle elf. Worse still, is the thought that Elrond will not know of it. Retribution will have to wait. But I will bide my time. One day they will regret this.
Legolas has already fallen asleep. I lie listening to the sound of his breathing. Nobody will disturb us this night unless there is an emergency. I hope that will not be so. Having him here in my bed is the sweetest gift, albeit a bittersweet one. Still, I will treasure these moments. Elrond will return in a week or so and all will be as it was before he left. Legolas will be his slave and I will have to stand by, hoping and praying for the day when he will be free to give me his love openly. I pray that day will not be long in coming.
LEGOLAS
Three days pass, and I find I am recovering quite quickly. Elves normally heal speedily, but I put my feeling of well-being down to the loving attentions of my healer. Every morning, he returns me to my own bed and tends to me with loving care. Then at night, he takes me back to his own room, where I sleep, safe in his arms. It is the morning of the fourth day, and I wake at dawn. The sun is yet to rise and I watch the shadowy tones of the room gradually take colour and substance. Glorfindel lies beside me, still sleeping. Being careful not to wake him, I prop myself on one elbow and gaze down at him. My cracked rib has healed and my fingers are working again. The memories of that dreadful assault are beginning to fade, but I know what will help to erase them.
My beloved healer lies on his back, head turned towards me. His lips are slightly parted, showing an enticing glimpse of white teeth. The sheets have been pulled down to his waist, last night having been a warm one. The blankets lie discarded on the floor. Glorfindel’s body is beautiful, broad shoulders and strong arms lying still in repose. Toned chest and abdomen rising and falling as he breathes. I think about what lies beneath the sheets, long muscular legs…and of course, his beautiful golden cock.
I sigh deeply, suddenly feeling very aroused. I want him. Need him. Need to have him inside me to purge me of the hateful assault I suffered. Any injury I suffered there has since healed. I have put this off too long. Glorfindel has been so patient with me. But now, we will wait no longer. Long have I envisioned this moment. Now it is time to make it real.
I bring my lips to his, brushing them softly. Then again, and again, becoming a little more insistent each time. My tongue slips between his parted lips, seeking entry to the sweet cavern of my healer’s mouth. Glorfindel sighs and shifts a little in sleep. I smile and kiss him again. “Wake for me, my love.” I whisper.
Still he sleeps, the sluggard. Smiling mischeviously, I kiss my way down his neck and shoulders until I encounter a dusky nipple. I circle it lazily with my tongue, flick it playfully, then give it a sharp nip.
That wakens him! Glorfindel emits a startled “Ai!” and jerks his head up.
“Good morning, my lazy one. Are you going to sleep all day?”
GLORFINDEL
Elbereth, what a wonderful way to wake up. I open my eyes, indignantly wondering who is biting my nipple, then I see my beloved prince, a mischevious smile upon his face as he enquires as to whether I am going to sleep all day. I raise myself upon my elbows and give him a wry grin. “Well, I would have slept a bit longer had somebody not decided to breakfast upon my extremities. If you are hungry I shall make you something to eat, dear Legolas.”
His blue eyes fix upon me as he whispers; “It is only you that I hunger for, my love.”
I grow serious as I realize the import of what he is saying. The prince sits up on his knees and regards me gravely, the sheet falling away from his body to reveal his nakedness and his obvious arousal. I cannot help but glance down at the stiffened organ, rising from his body like a column of ivory. I can feel my own cock hardening at the sight. But I must be sure…
“Legolas. What are you saying?” I ask.
Legolas takes my hand and brings it to his lips. He looks deep into my eyes and I see the longing there.
“Make love to me, Glorfindel. Let our bodies finally join as one. I can wait no longer. Let me give myself to you, if you will have me.” He begs.
My heart leaps with joy. So long have I waited for this day.
“My love. Are you sure?” I ask. I don’t want Legolas to have any regrets afterwards. If we are to join, I want it to deepen our relationship and bring us closer. I do not want it to become something of contention that will lie between us.
Legolas nods. “My healer. My heart. I can no longer wait. I need you, beloved. Take me as your lover so that I will know what it is to join with someone in love and not simply to be used. Help to free me from this pain.”
His eyes shine with tears as he looks at me entreatingly. I cannot deny him. Gently, I take Legolas’ face in my hands and kiss his forehead. “Then let me love you, my sweet prince.”
The tears fall then. But they are tears of joy as we lay down in each others arms. Lips part, tongues entwine, fingers lace together in a lovers handclasp. Slowly, lovingly, we savour each moment, each touch, determined to make this first joining as memorable as possible.
Minutes pass. Passions mount and our kisses become more feverish, more demanding. Legolas moans exquisitely as I take a nipple ring between my teeth and tug gently. His head falls back, letting his sheet of white-blonde hair hang freely. I release his nipple, lose my fingers in those satin locks and kiss him deeply.
Legolas’ hands slide around my back and clasp me tightly as if he will never let me go. He presses closer to me, as if he would seek to climb inside my skin and I would let him if he could. Keep him safe from all harm. Our aroused cocks rub together like two duelling swords and I take both in my hand and stroke them, moaning at the exquisite feel of flesh against hardened flesh.
Legolas shifts in my arms and lies back on the bed, spreading his legs invitingly. He looks up at me, then glances over at the bedside table where rests a vial of oil. “Do you wish to prepare me, my love?” he asks. I look at him then smile. “I have a better idea, my prince. I want you to be inside me.”
LEGOLAS
I stare up at Glorfindel, dumbfounded. I have never experienced such a thing. Never would Elrond ever allow me to be inside him. For Glorfindel to offer himself to me like this is something I never dreamed of. But even as I think of it, I quiver with excitement and nervousness.
“My love, I have never….I don’t want to hurt you.” I stammer.
Glorfindel merely smiles and lies down, handing me the oil. “You love me. That is how I know you will not hurt me. I trust you, beloved one.”
I cannot find the words to say how much this means to me. “This is a gift indeed, my sweet healer. Thank you.” I say in awe.
The healer gives me a loving look and parts his legs. With shaking fingers, I pour a few drops of oil into my hand, coating my fingers. Then slowly, I caress his pink entrance, circling it gently. “Go on.” The healer encourages. I slide one finger into him, gasping aloud at the feel of him inside. Velvet-soft and hot as fire. I almost feel dizzy at the thought of being sheathed inside him. Glorfindel moans wantonly. “More.” He begs.
Carefully, I add another finger, gently stretching him. Then, at the healer’s insistence, I insert a third finger. By now, my beloved is pushing back in response, moaning softly as his body, greedy for my fingers, writhes beneath my touch. Curling my fingers, I find his pleasure spot, delighting in the loud cry of ecstasy that Glorfindel utters, his body arching like a bow.
“Enough!” he gasps. “Take me now, Legolas.”
Slicking my cock with oil, I position it at my beloved’s entrance. Then I lean over him and kiss him deeply as I slowly slide into him. We moan into each other’s mouths at the exquisite sensation of filling and being filled. I break the kiss and gaze down at Glorfindel, mouth open, breathless as I fight the overwhelming urge to just take him hard and fast. So this is what Elrond experiences every time he takes me. Let us hope that my self-control is better than his!
Through the haze of desire, I realize that my love is speaking to me. “Legolas, my love. If you do not move I shall surely expire!”
“Sorry.” I murmur, blushing as I realize that I am behaving like a virgin elfling. My healer smiles indulgently and kisses my shame away. “Love me.” He whispers. “Do what feels pleasurable to you. Do not be afraid, meleth-nin.”
Without taking my eyes from my beloved healer’s face, I begin to move inside him. Long slow thrusts that make us both moan and sigh. Glorfindel pulls his knees up, changing the angle slightly and I gasp as he suddenly cries out beneath me, his hips bucking reflexively. It appears I have rubbed across his sweet spot. Delighted, I repeat the movement. The healer cries out again and fists his hands in the sheets. Oh how wonderful to be able to give such pleasure to the elf that I love! I am close to coming and I know Glorfindel is too. Looking into his eyes, I see that he is ready and I increase the speed of my thrusts, making sure to stroke across that spot that drives him to ecstasy. “Yes, Legolas. Oh, Elbereth. Ah! Ai! Ai!” The healer cries. I can feel myself losing control. Feel that familiar tingle as my body gathers itself for the final climax. But this time it is different. There is no shame. This is not happening against my will. It is happening because I want it to, because it is with the one that I love. I feel an amazing sense of freedom and wonder and joy at this experience. Glorfindel cries out my name and spills his seed onto his stomach. Finally letting go of the last vestige of self-control I call out joyfully; “Glorfindel!” and come inside my love’s tight hot body. It is like nothing I have ever felt before and I find myself shaking as my beloved rolls me onto my side and we lie facing each other, gazing into each other’s eyes in wonder.
“My love….” I sigh, caressing Glorfindel’s beautiful face. The healer kisses my fingers as they brush across his lips. “I love you, my sweet prince.” He murmurs.
“And I you.” I reply. “Amin mela lle.” A yawn catches me by surprise and Glorfindel laughs.
“Sleep now, my prince. Gather your strength. For when you wake, I shall want you again.”
“And you shall have me, beloved. I am yours.”
With a happy sigh, I nestle into my lovers arms and fall asleep. Content.
GLORFINDEL
I wake later in the morning. Legolas lies beside me, his head on my shoulder. I sigh and stretch my body, revelling in the warm ache in my nether regions. A welcome feeling. I kiss the top of my elf’s head, inhaling the scent of his hair and body and settle back against the pillows, quite happy to spend another while in bed.
Then a noise causes me to open my eyes. A rustling, as of heavy clothing. I look to the end of my bed and my blood turns to ice. For standing there, arms folded and a furious look on his face, is Elrond!
Chapter 38: Confrontation
ELROND
I have ridden through the night on the last leg of my journey, burning with eagerness to get back to Rivendell and begin my seduction of Legolas. Galadriel’s mirror showed me. He will come to love me. As dawn is breaking, my beloved Imladris comes into sight, tucked into the folds of the mountains like a secret. I pause to watch the sun lighten the rooftops and to give my horse a rest. Then, I hurry on.
At last, I enter the gates, the sentry calling a greeting as I pass. “Welcome home, my Lord.” I thank him as I pass and press on, wanting to get to my house before Legolas arises. I plan to creep into his bed and wake him with soft words and gentle kisses, pleasure his body until he cries out in ecstasy. Yes, he will learn to love me, I know it.
The house is quiet as I enter and make my way to Legolas’ room, next to my own. Quietly I open the door but then stop short in surprise and disappointment. His bed is empty. Can he already be up?
Perhaps he has chosen to sleep in my bed. Perhaps he has been lonely for me?
Alas, my room is also just as empty. Vexed now, I head for the kitchen, expecting to find the young elf at an early breakfast. As I pass my study, I catch sight of Erestor within but I have no time for him right now. I hunger for Legolas. I must find him!
“My Lord…” Erestor begins, hurrying after me.
“Not now, Erestor. I will speak with you later.” I snap.
“But, Lord Elrond…” my administrator persists.
I cut him off with a sharp look. “Where is Legolas?”
“The healing house, my Lord. But I must tell you-“
“Later, Erestor!” I snap again, irritated by him.
Thankfully the elf stops his blustering and I walk on, wondering why Legolas is in the healing-house at this hour. Has he injured himself? Is he helping Glorfindel with his herbs and potions again? The two certainly do seem to spend a lot of time together. I had not noticed before.
Crossing the bridge, I tap on the door but there is silence within. So I push the door. It is unlatched and I walk in, looking around for my slave. Strange, there is no sign of him. Perhaps Erestor was mistaken.
Moving further, I come to the door of Glorfindel’s room which is open a crack. Perhaps I can find the healer and ask where the young elf is.
I step into the room, seeing Glorfindel’s head turned away from me I move round to the end of the bed and stop short. What I see kindles a scorching flame of anger in my heart.
Two heads rest upon the pillow, golden and white blonde hair mingling together. Legolas lies in Glorfindel’s arms, his head resting on the healer’s shoulder. As I watch, Glorfindel stirs and stretches. He does not open his eyes but sighs and plants a kiss on my slave’s head before settling back for another doze. Then he senses my presence in the room and opens his eyes. On seeing me, all colour drains from his face and his arms tighten protectively around Legolas. The young elf murmurs a sleepy complaint and shifts in the suddenly constricting embrace.
Without taking his eyes off me, Glorfindel speaks. “Legolas, wake up.”
Legolas sighs. “Not yet, my love. Let me sleep a while longer.” He burrows deeper into the healer’s neck and plants a kiss there, causing me to ball my fists in rage.
“Legolas, you need to wake up. Now.” Glorfindel says urgently.
My slave finally registers the urgent tone in his lover’s voice and opens his eyes. They focus on me sleepily and then open wide. His mouth opens, lips forming a round ‘o’ of horror at the realization that they have been found out. He grips Glorfindel’s arms, which are encircling him protectively.
“Would somebody like to tell me how long this has been going on?” I grate through gritted teeth.
Glorfindel’s green eyes flash defiantly. “Many months.” He says. “But this was the first time we consummated our relationship.”
I give him a wintry smile. “A little ill-timed don’t you think?”
“Maybe so but perhaps it’s best that you know now. Legolas and I are in love. He can no longer serve you. Free him and we will leave here.” The healer says.
At that little speech, I throw back my head and laugh harshly. How wrong I had been! It was not I that Legolas was professing his love for in the mirror but Glorfindel!
“Fool!” I snarl. “Do you think that makes a difference to me? You see that collar on your precious prince’s neck? It signifies that he is mine. He belongs to me, and I will not release him to you or anyone.”
Legolas trembles at my words but Glorfindel continues to glare at me defiantly. I have had enough of this nonsense.
“Legolas, come here.” I command.
The elf does not move. “No.” he says softly.
“Do you wish to be punished further for your disobedience, elf?” I threaten. “Come here now.”
He shakes his head. “No.”
With a snarl of rage I storm over to his side of the bed and reach for him, but suddenly Glorfindel jumps out of bed, reaching underneath for something and I am suddenly facing the tip of the healer’s sword.
“You will not touch him again, Elrond.” The healer breathes. “I will see him mistreated no longer. You will release him and let him return to his family, and I will go with him.”
But two can play at that game and I also draw my sword. At this, Legolas cries out. “No, please. I will not have blood shed in my name. Both of you lay down your swords.”
With a smirk, I put my sword away, watching as the healer does the same. Then I move to the window.
“You forget who you are dealing with here. I am the Lord of Imladris and my word is obeyed above all.” Leaning out the window I shout; “Guards!”
Within moments, half a dozen of the Rivendell guard enter the healing house. Four carry swords while two have arrows drawn and aimed at the two naked elves. Legolas is clutching the sheet to himself but Glorfindel stands proud and defiant, unashamed of his nakedness. When the soldiers appear, the healer hefts his sword once again but Legolas throws himself in front of his lover. “No! Do not hurt him!”
“Move aside Legolas.” Says Glorfindel. “I would sooner die fighting than have Elrond touch you again.”
“My love.” Entreaties the young elf. “I could not bear to see you fall, I would die of grief. Please, I beg you, lay down your sword.” Moving closer, he whispers into the healer’s ear then kisses his lips. With a snarl of rage, I reach forward and grab the elf's collar, dragging him from his lover. I tighten my grip, causing Legolas to choke and sink to his knees. Only then do I allow him to breathe.
I signal to the guards, pointing to Glorfindel. “Take him away. He will die in the morning. You,” I say to Legolas, “will come with me.”
Tears spill from my slave’s eyes as he sees Glorfindel dragged from the healing house by four of the guards. The other two I have take Legolas back to my house. He does not fight, but walks with his head down, tears falling from his azure eyes. I walk behind them, my heart still burning with anger. Legolas will rue this day!
LEGOLAS
I cannot believe this has happened. How could such bad-luck have befallen us? The first time Glorfindel and I finally join as lovers only to be caught by Elrond. Why, O Valar, why?
But railing against it is not going to help. I must think clearly. How am I going to persuade Elrond not to kill Glorfindel? How can I save my love?
I dare not look at the Lord of Rivendell as he walks behind me. I can feel his fury from here and I know that I will suffer for it. But rather I suffer a thousand torments than lose Glorfindel.
I think of how brave the healer was, drawing his sword in order to protect me, but I could not bear to see him hurt or worse, killed and so I begged him to back down. Before the guards took him, I whispered in his ear. “Even death can not part us, my love. We will be together, in this life or the next. Amin mela lle.” Glorfindel nods, and I see my love reflected in his emerald eyes. One last sweet kiss and then I am dragged from his arms by a furious Elrond.
We reach my room and the guards escort me inside. Elrond instructs them to remain outside and keep me under guard. Then he steps into the room and closes the door. At once, I fall to my knees, ready to beg for Glorfindel’s life.
“My Lord, please. Spare his life. I will do anything-“
A ringing slap silences me, knocking me to the floor. Elrond grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me to my knees, bringing his enraged face close to mine. “Yes, Legolas. You WILL do anything. Because you are mine. Not because it will save your lover. Nothing can save him now. He will die for taking what is mine. By the Valar, I ought to kill you too!”
I look him straight in the eyes. “Then do it. For at least then we shall be together and I shall have to endure you no longer.”
With a roar of rage, Elrond strikes me again, drawing blood from my lips. Stunned, I remain on my knees, trying to rid myself of the ringing in my ears. I feel my hair grabbed hold of and my head jerked back. I catch sight of a flash of silver as Elrond pulls a dagger from his robes and I close my eyes, uttering a prayer, sure that I am about to die.
But death does not come. Instead, I hear a hissing noise as the knife slices through something and then I see hanks of my beautiful hair drift to the floor. The ancient elf is venting his rage upon my blonde locks. I do not move, only kneel there trembling as Elrond shears my hair from my head. Let him do this. Let him wreak his vengeance in this way. At least then he may calm down enough so that I can reason with him. I wince as the knife cuts into my scalp a couple of times but do not dare utter a sound. Instead I think of Glorfindel. I will endure anything to save him.
The last of my hair settles on the floor, but Elrond is far from finished with me. Taking the sash from his robe, he binds my wrists behind me, throws me to the bed and spreads my legs apart. “I will show you just who you belong to, slave. You will not forget it again.”
I watch as Elrond removes his robes, revealing his hard erection and I know he is going to take me violently. So be it.
Sure enough, he seizes my legs, pulling them wide apart and thrusts into me mercilessly. I feel my flesh, newly healed from his sons’ assault on me, tear again and I scream in pain. Elrond pauses and goes into his own room and I lie there quivering, awaiting his return. Moments later he is back and I feel a shudder of fear when I see the rope and the gag in his hands.
Discarding the rope for the moment, he straps the gag tightly into my mouth, the leather strap biting deep between my lips. Then Elrond climbs back onto the bed and continues his brutal violation of my body. I close my eyes, wanting to shut out the sight of the furious elf pounding into me but he slaps me again. “Open your eyes, slave. I want you to remember who your master is!” he snarls.
Eventually, he spills his release into me with a grunt and withdraws, leaving me weeping in pain. But he has not finished with me yet. Taking the rope, Elrond binds my body tightly, the ropes biting into my flesh. When he has ensured that I can no longer move he leans over me, a nasty smirk on his face.
“I have far from finished with you yet, young elf, but I do not wish to break you too soon. Consider this a brief respite from the torment yet to come. I will return later.”
Placing a kiss on my tear-stained cheek, he climbs off the bed and walks to the door. Before he leaves, he pauses and looks back at me. “In the morning, Legolas, you will watch your lover die.”
The door closes and once again I am left alone. Fresh tears fall as I weep at both mine and Glorfindel’s predicament. But as the tears abate, despair gives way to a single-minded determination to escape. I must save Glorfindel!
After a few minutes spent fighting with the ropes that bind me, I have to concede that I cannot break free. Elrond has bound me too cleverly, the knots being placed out of reach of my questing fingers. In despair, I lie there, breathless from my struggles. If only I had something to cut myself free.
My weapons! They are here. When Elrond let me keep them after the archery contest, I put them under the bed out of sight lest he change his mind and take them back. Perhaps there is hope after all.
Inch by painful inch, I edge towards the edge of the bed. It takes a long time and I begin to worry that Elrond will return. I pray to the valar, please, give me enough time! At last I reach the edge of the bed and pause, trying to relax my body so that the fall will not injure me, then I roll myself over, falling heavily to the floor below. The fall winds me and I lay there, trying desperately to breathe. Eventually, I recover myself and set to the task of trying to reach under the bed for my knives. Closer and closer I inch until my fingers finally brush worn leather. Another few inches and I manage to snag the strap and pull the quiver closer. Groping around, I feel the smooth bone handle of one of my knives. Thank the Valar! Clumsily, I draw it from its sheath and carefully invert it, bringing the blade towards the ropes. It seems to take forever as my aching fingers can only manipulate the blade in tiny movements. Sweat drips from my body and twice I drop the knife from my shaking fingers. But at last, the rope parts and I can begin to work myself free.
Minutes later, I climb to my feet, wrenching at the leather gag. Jerking it free, I throw the hateful device on the bed and hobble to the wardrobe. I am still in great pain from Elrond’s assault but my need to free Glorfindel drives me on. Quickly I pull open the wardrobe and pull on the first tunic and leggings I can find. Then, remembering Glorfindel’s nakedness, I find something for him to wear also. A pair of too-large leggings which I never wore and a loose shirt, along with a warm cloak. Bundling them and a pair of boots into the cloak, I strap on my weapons, sling the clothes over my shoulder and head for the window.
The climb down is a perilous one but I manage it without mishap. Reaching the ground, I glance around to make sure I have been unseen. Then, using buildings and trees as cover, I make my way to the dungeons. These miserable cells are set into the rock below the buildings of Rivendell. Remote and out of the way of the rest of the community, the only people here present are the guard-elves on duty and the prisoners themselves. At the moment, I see guards outside only one cell. Glorfindel is obviously their only tenant right now. Good.
From the cover of some bushes, I throw a stone that lands some distance on the other side of the path. It distracts the guards, two of whom go to investigate, leaving only one. Quickly, I creep up to him and subdue him, using the handle of my knife to render him unconscious. With all haste, I drag him into the cover of some bushes, taking the keys from his belt.
Praying that the other guards will be slow to return, I unlock the door and fling it open. Sure enough, Glorfindel stands there, hands in heavy manacles, arms pulled above his head and tethered to a chain hanging from the ceiling. Similar to how I was held when first I was imprisoned here. The elf looks battered and bloodied and I realise he must have fought hard against his captors.
“Legolas!” Glorfindel gasps. I run to him and quickly unhook the chain from the wall, bringing his arms down so I can unlock the manacles. As soon as he is free, my healer places both hands on my face, studying me in horror. “Your beautiful hair. What-?”
“There is no time!” I cry. “Quickly, the guards return any second.”
Sure enough, I hear a shout as the two guards charge into the cell, but we fall upon them both and knock them unconscious. Neither of us wanting to kill anyone unnecessarily. I lock them in the dungeon, buying us some time as Glorfindel quickly dons the clothes I brought.
“You must leave right now, my love.” I tell the healer. “Your life depends upon it.”
“No!” Argues Glorfindel. “I cannot leave you to Elrond’s torment. I will not.”
“Lover, please! If you do not leave they will kill you and I could not bear that. Do this for me. Leave Rivendell while you can. Make for Mirkwood and find Jared. He will receive you and give you shelter. Come, to the stables. You can take Stormcloud. He will carry you there safely. Hurry!”
With all speed, we run to the stables and take my horse from his stall. We are just putting on the bridle when Cyrin appears. “What are you doing?” he asks. “Is it true that you have been arrested and are under sentence of death?” he asks Glorfindel. News travels fast in Imladris it seems.
“Yes, it is true.” I tell him. “But I cannot let it happen. I am helping Glorfindel to escape. Can you forget you saw us here?”
Cyrin nods but looks doubtful. “I want to help you both, but if Elrond finds out, I will be punished severely. I am afraid of him.” He admits.
Glorfindel takes some rope that hangs nearby. “Then come, young elf, let me bind you and lay you in that stall over there. You can then say that we overpowered you. Surely none will doubt that.”
The young stable elf agrees and I ready Stormcloud while Glorfindel gently binds and gags Cyrin and lays him on some soft hay.
“Thank you, my friend.” I tell him. Cyrin nods.
I hear a commotion heading our way and realise that the alarm has been raised. We hurry outside and Glorfindel mounts Stormcloud. He looks at me with tears in his eyes. “I hate to leave you, my prince. But I will make all speed to Mirkwood and perhaps your brother and I can find some way to have you freed.”
The healer is near to tears as he leans down to kiss me one last time. “May the Valar protect you, my prince.” He whispers.
With a sigh, I savour our last kiss. “And you, my love.” I reply.
I hear a shout, and suddenly I see soldiers rushing towards us. Quickly, I draw my bow and put an arrow to it. I fire a warning arrow over the heads of the soldiers and they slow their advance. Then quickly, I press my weapons into Glorfindel’s hands. “Take these.” I say urgently. “You will have need of them.” Glorfindel gives me one last heartfelt look as he takes them, then he spurs his horse towards the gate. A couple of guards try to block his way but a horse at full-gallop is an intimidating sight and they dodge aside, letting the healer go free.
With a sigh of relief and resignation, I allow the soldiers to take me. Already Cyrin is released and walking from the stables. I nod my thanks to him before being marched away. No matter what Elrond does to me now, it matters not. Glorfindel is free.
Chapter 39: Confinement
GLORFINDEL
My heart is breaking as I ride out of Rivendell, leaving my beloved Legolas behind. I always imagined that when I left this place, I would have my beloved prince at my side. Instead, I am fleeing to Mirkwood, a fugitive, leaving Legolas to the mercy of Elrond. But it is as my beloved said, I cannot help him in Rivendell, where I would surely be put to death. Instead I must hasten to Mirkwood and see Legolas’ brother Jared. There shall we decide how to go about freeing the young prince from Elrond’s clutches. My lover has suffered long enough.
As I ride out the gate, I take one last look back. He stands there, one hand raised in farewell, looking beautiful, even though shorn of his long hair. I will never forget how Legolas looks at this moment and I vow I will return to free him as soon as I can. He turns away then, raising his hands in surrender as the guards apprehend him.
LEGOLAS
I stand now, in the library, my hands bound and flanked by two guards. The captain of the guard stands forward, telling Lord Elrond of how I escaped and freed Glorfindel from the cells and certain death. They will not catch him now. My horse, Stormcloud, is a swift runner and my healer knows the surrounding countryside like the back of his hand from frequent herb-gathering trips. I hold to this thought. No matter what happens to me, I can endure it knowing that Glorfindel is free and even now making haste to Mirkwood. It is still only early autumn and the mountain passes should remain open long enough for him to make the journey there. Perhaps then he and Jared can find a way to gain my freedom. But for now, I must suffer whatever punishment Elrond chooses to exact upon me. He stands there, listening gravely to what the captain of the guard tells him, sable locks swinging as he nods frequently. Every now and then he turns to look at me with eyes that could chill water to ice. I gaze back defiantly, all appearances of submission gone. He may do what he likes with me, at least Glorfindel is free.
The captain finishes speaking and steps back as Elrond slowly walks towards me. The Lord of Rivendell stares at me for the longest time then murmurs something to himself; “I was a fool to believe it could be true. Curse that witch and her mirror.”
I know not of what he speaks. Nor do I have a chance to wonder as he suddenly strikes me. I stumble backwards, tasting blood in my mouth. One of the guards pulls me upright and roughly pushes me forward again. Elrond hooks a long finger into the ring on my collar and pulls me close enough to whisper into my ear. “You have defied me once too often, my slave. This time, I will make you wish you had never been born.”
At this point, I no longer care about the consequences. My temper hits boiling point and I spit a mouthful of blood onto Elrond’s immaculate velvet robes. “You have beaten me often enough before, Elrond. I have been imprisoned, enslaved, humiliated, beaten, abused and raped by you. You and your vile sons have all had your sport with me. Do you really think you can make me suffer any more than I have already done?” Elrond stares at me as I mention his sons then he grabs my shoulders and shakes me. “My sons? What lies do you speak, slave?” he demands to know.
“I speak no lie. While you were away, your sons dragged me into the woods and I was raped and beaten by them. Glorfindel found me the next day and took care of me. He’s the only one in Rivendell who’s ever cared about me. He’s the only one who ever loved me.”
Elrond pales at this and I suddenly see pain in his eyes amidst the anger.
“I would have had your love.” He says in a whisper.
I laugh scornfully. “My love? What in the name of the Valar ever made you think I would love you? Your cruelty drove me into Glorfindel’s arms, Elrond. You have nobody to blame but yourself for that. Your heart is filled with nothing but cold and darkness. You are incapable of love!”
Again I see that look of pain in his eyes and I rejoice in the fact that after almost two years of suffering at his hands, I have managed to hurt him in return.
“It was not always so.” He murmurs, looking away.
When he looks back, the pain is gone, to be replaced with a burning anger.
“I do not believe these lies, slave. My sons are far away in Rohan even now. You are nothing but a liar and a whore and you will be punished for your misdeeds.”
Again I laugh scornfully. “Beat me all you want, Elrond. You will not break me.”
Elrond regards me thoughtfully. “You may be right, slave. Perhaps beating is not the answer. I have punished you physically before to no avail. Also, there is now no healer to patch you up afterwards. Maybe a different approach is needed after all.”
He turns away, lost in thought and I wait to hear my fate. Will I die now? Face more imprisonment? I know not. My temper is cooling again, my bravado slipping away and I hold to the thought of Glorfindel, riding swiftly towards Mirkwood. Valar speed you, my love.
Presently, Elrond turns around, nodding to himself. He seems pleased, as if he has hit on a novel idea. I watch with mounting dread as he speaks to the captain of the guard in a low voice. I only catch the end of the conversation;
“You know of what I speak?” Elrond asks.
The captain nods.
“Good. Bring it to his room immediately.”
Elrond then has the other two guards escort me back to my room. They push me onto the bed and one of them fixes a chain from the bedstead to the ring on my collar. Once more, I am left alone, but this time there is no escape.
I am not alone for long. Presently, I hear footsteps. Several pairs. Lord Elrond sweeps in, followed by the captain and four guards carrying a long heavy box. I stare at it with deep misgivings as it is laid on the floor. It is long and low. Made of dark wood and covered with Dwarvish runes. It seems made for some dark and malevolent purpose. Heavy iron latches secure the lid down and two stout padlocks hold it shut. Elrond watches my reaction and smiles malevolently.
“Do you know what this is, my slave?” he asks.
“No.” I say, staring at the box.
“A few hundred years ago, the elves of Imladris fought a war with the dwarves of the Iron Mountains. We triumphed in the end, and liberated many artefacts and treasures from their mines. Amongst them we found this. It was used to torture captured elves. They were shut up in this until they either told the dwarves what they wanted to know or went mad. Left long enough they would die.”
Even as Elrond speaks, I can feel my heart beginning to pound with fear. He does not know it, but the lord of Rivendell has hit upon the one thing that can instil abject terror in me. Elves hate dark confined places as a whole but, as a child, I had a particularly frightening experience. Playing hide and seek with Jared one day, I hid in a little-used part of the palace and found a heavy trunk in which to hide myself in an abandoned storeroom. My hiding place turned out to be too good and after a while I grew bored waiting for Jared to find me and decided to go and find him. But when I went to lift the lid I found that the latch on the trunk had fallen into place, trapping me inside. I remained there for several hours, crying and screaming by turns until, as night fell and my absence prompted a search of the palace, I was finally found, weeping and hysterical. Ever since then, I have feared being shut up in a tight space.
I watch as the lid is unlatched and pulled open. I can see scratches on the inside of the lid. As if the previous occupants had clawed at it in their terror. The sides are padded with leather. Already I am finding it hard to breathe.
“No.” I murmur softly. “Not that. Please.”
Elrond smiles wickedly, delighted with the effect this is having on me. He walks to the bed and leans over me. “Yes, my slave. This is your punishment. You will go in that box and you will not be let out until you promise to serve me as a willing slave. Forever.”
My eyes grow wide with disbelief. “Forever? But you can’t. We agreed ten years-“
“And you agreed to serve me but I found you in bed with Glorfindel. I think that renders all previous agreements null and void, don’t you?” he smirks nastily then picks up the discarded gag from earlier and thrusts it into my mouth, pulling the straps tight.
Elrond gestures to the guards then. “Take him.”
The guards unlock the chain from my collar and start to drag me towards the box. Wild-eyed with terror, I struggle and kick. But with my hands bound, it is futile. They pick me up easily and push me into the box. The last thing I see is Elrond smiling triumphantly before the lid is slammed shut. Blackness surrounds me and I fight my panic as I hear the heavy latches thud shut, followed by the click of the padlocks being closed. I whimper with fear, trying desperately not to scream. I think of Glorfindel. Focus on his beautiful face and the fact that somewhere out there he is free, riding to Mirkwood to find help. But that only makes my predicament feel worse. The leather padding on the sides of the box press against me. I try to raise my head a little and end up bumping my nose against the lid which is only a bare half-inch away. I can still breathe so there must be air-holes somewhere but not a chink of light can be seen. The dwarves must have hidden them cleverly. My heart pounds in my chest and I whimper through the gag. How will I endure this without giving in to Elrond? Would death or madness be preferable to being his slave forever? How long will I have to remain here before either of those takes me? How long will it be before I begin to scream?
Chapter 40: Capitulation
ELROND
My thoughts are grim and my heart heavy as I pace the floor of my room. The revelations of the past hours since my return to Rivendell are taking their toll on me, making me weary and heartsore.
I feel torn between guilt and anger at Legolas’ betrayal of me. Anger at finding him in Glorfindel’s arms. Guilt that he was attacked and raped by my sons.
I should have known that they would wish to claim revenge after he bested them in the archery contest but I thought that they would respect my order as their father that he was not to be touched. Yes. I did believe Legolas when he told me what had happened but I could not lose face in front of the guards. I could not bow to the word of a slave in front of them nor have them gossiping of the misdeeds of my sons. It would undermine my authority as Lord of Rivendell. And that is something that I will not endure. I shake my head at the disobedience of my sons. They will be dealt with harshly upon their return here, of that there will be no doubt.
It has been about eight hours since I had Legolas imprisoned in the dwarvish box. A drastic measure, I know. But one which I hope will teach him once and for all to obey me. He will learn that I am his lord and master once and for all or else face losing his sanity and possibly his life.
LEGOLAS
I wake to find myself in total blackness. Where am I? What is happening?
And then I moan in despair as I remember. Imprisoned in the crushing blackness of this cursed box. I whimper pitifully and try to shift my body weight from off of my arms which are still bound behind me. But there is no room to move. The walls of the box press in upon me from all sides oppressively. My body aches all over from its cramped confinement. My shoulders, arms and wrists in particular. I can no longer feel my hands. My jaw aches, the cruel gag cutting into the sides of my mouth. How long have I been here? I have lost all track of time.
For a long time, after I was shut in, I struggled to keep myself from panicking. I prayed to the Valar for help and thought of my lover, Glorfindel, even now on his way to Mirkwood. But it will be many days journey through the mountain passes. Even for a horse as swift as Stormcloud. And once there, what can he and Jared do to save me? I trust them not to tell my father the truth of my incarceration here but how will they find a way to free me without letting him know that his son is a slave here?
I tried to keep my thoughts occupied. Anything to keep myself from giving in to the panic of being trapped in the darkness. But eventually it wore me down. I began to tremble and weep uncontrollably. I moaned and whimpered. Begging unintelligibly through the gag to be freed. Not even sure that Elrond, or anyone else for that matter is listening. The thought of being alone, abandoned, made it even worse and I cried harder until, exhausted I fell into a deep sleep.
And now I am awake again to endure more of this torture. I try to stretch my limbs, trying to work some movement back into them but it is useless. The blackness is complete, depthless. I strain my ears, hoping to catch some sound from outside. Silence. Does the box prevent any sound from penetrating or have I been left alone? I whimper entreatingly. There is no response.
Again I feel the clawed hand of panic begin to squeeze my heart and I fight it frantically. If I give in, I will surely lose my mind as other elves before me have done. Instead, I move my head from side to siden, hoping to loosen the gag somewhat. There is at least room for that. But my efforts are futile. The leather straps remain tight round my head and in desperation I try to call out, begging to be freed.
Again, my cries go unheeded and tears course down my cheeks at my hopeless situation.
As the hours wear on my resolve weakens. The pain in my limbs becomes unendurable. But worse still is the darkness. I long for the light of the sun. For fresh air and water. My strength of mind fails and I feel myself beginning to give in to the panic that has been trying to take hold of me all along. My breath comes faster and harder, my heart flutters in my chest and eventually, I begin to scream.
Panic grips me and I writhe uselessly in the box, screaming over and over. It’s becoming harder to breathe. The air in the box feels stale and used-up. I can’t breathe. I can’t….
ELROND
From my room, I hear the sound of my slave’s screams as he at last succumbs to the all-encompassing oppression of the box. I smile grimly, knowing that he is close to being broken. Soon he will learn to obey and serve without question. The threat of the box always hanging over him will see to that. If I cannot rule him through love I can at least rule him through fear.
The screams stop abruptly and I move to the doorway, listening. Silence.
Slightly concerned, I move into the room and crouch down by the box. There is no sound. Quietly, I unlock the lid and lift it to peer inside.
The elf is unconscious, having passed out. His cheeks are wet with tears and I gently brush them away with a long finger, bringing it to my lips to taste the saltiness.
“Soon, young elf. It will be over and you will bow to me. Accept it and life will be easier for you.”
I murmur, drinking in the sight of my elf. Even shorn of his hair, tear-stained and gagged, he is beautiful. With a sigh, I lean down and place a kiss on his forehead. Then I shut and lock the box once again and return to my room. It is only a matter of time.
Next morning, I awaken from my sleep to hear the sounds of muffled screaming coming from the box once again. I think it is time for my slave to be released.
I take my time dressing and arranging my hair. I want to appear as stern and regal as possible for Legolas. He must recognize me as master or go back in the box once again.
Once ready, I go to his room. The screams have subsided into hoarse sobs. Again I unlock the lid and open it up. The imprisoned elf immediately blinks and squints in the sudden light. I give Legolas a minute to adjust to the daylight. Then, once his vision has righted itself and he is gazing up at me entreatingly I speak to him.
“Have you endured enough, young elf? Are you now ready to serve me obediently?”
Tears trickle down the elf’s cheeks as he stares up at me. I can see the dilemma warring in his eyes. Serve me or face further torment in the darkness. There is no contest. Slowly he nods. I sit him up and unbind his wrists. The elf moans softly and, with an effort, brings his arms around in front. I massage some life back into his numbed hands and aching wrists. Then I unfasten the gag, easing it from his mouth. Legolas utters a pained whimper and carefully rubs his jaw.
I move away from him and go to sit on the bed. “Come here.” I say softly.
With difficulty, Legolas eases himself out of the box. His legs will not yet support him and he falls to his hands and knees. Slowly, he crawls to the bed where I sit and looks up at me, tears in his eyes.
“Who are you, Legolas?” I ask him quietly.
“Your slave, my Lord.” The elf replies in a voice devoid of emotion.
I nod in satisfaction. “And what is your duty?”
“To serve you, my Lord.”
I nod in approval. “Then show me your devotion, slave.”
Another tear falls from Legolas’ eyes as he lowers his head. He bends almost to the floor and kisses my feet submissively.
“Good. Very good.” I tell the young elf. “Now. Undress me. Pleasure me with your mouth. Serve me well and I will reward you with your own pleasure.”
I watch as my newly submissive slave slowly removes my robes. He keeps his eyes downcast and does not speak. Then, when I am naked, I lay back on the bed and enjoy the feel of Legolas’ mouth and hands as they kiss and caress my body. Soon my cock is in his mouth and he is sucking hard upon it. Valar it feel so good! I moan and clasp his shorn head in my hands, holding him steady as I thrust into his mouth. Legolas does not fight me. He accepts everything I do to him without complaint, even when I explode my release in his mouth and force him to swallow.
After I have recovered my senses I roll the elf onto his back and pull down his leggings. Legolas simply stares at the ceiling, not looking at me.
“Good, my slave. Very good. Now you shall be rewarded.”
I thrust two fingers into the elf’s mouth to be moistened. Then I ease them into his tight hole. First one, then the other. Legolas does not make a sound. I find his pleasure spot and then he does cry out but still does not look at me. Still stroking, I close my other hand round his stiffening cock and stroke it until it is erect and quivering. Soon he is panting and biting his lip, hands fisted in the pillow beneath his head.
“Come for me, slave.” I growl, eager to see him undone.
Legolas utters a short, choked howl and spills his seed into my hand. I bring it to his lips and have him clean it up. Then, content that I now have an obedient slave, I pull him against me and fall asleep, unmindful of the elf’s silent weeping as he lies rigid against me.
LEGOLAS
I had no choice, Glorfindel. I could bear it no longer. Forgive me my love, but I could not take the darkness any more. I thought I would never see daylight again by the time Elrond opened the box. By then, I was so terrified that I could think of nothing but being released from my hellish prison. I would have agreed to anything to escape. And I did. Sold my life and our love away to serve Elrond for Valar knows how long. My tears fall silently as I lie in Elrond’s arms. Even now, my body still twitches from the aftershocks of pleasure from the orgasm he gave me. Pleasure I did not want to feel. My body betrays me each time I am with the Lord of Imladris. I hate him and yet he can make me feel such intense pleasure. I hate myself for allowing myself to feel it. All I can do is divorce my mind from my body and let Elrond do as he will with me while I keep my heart and mind filled by your love. I will try not to lose hope that one day we will be together again. I must try to remain strong.
Chapter 41: Solitude
LEGOLAS
It is autumn here in Rivendell. But already winter has come to my heart. It has only been a week since Glorfindel and I parted but to me it seems like eternity. Listlessly, I drift about, my heart like a heavy weight inside me. Will I ever see your beautiful face again, my dear Glorfindel? I hope and pray that it will be so. But when?
This afternoon, Elrond has no need of me. He is closeted in his study with Erestor, discussing what provision must be made for winter and taking inventory of the food stores here in Imladris. In the days past, Erestor has been kind to me. Offering a friendly word when he passes or a wan smile. In truth, I think the elf feels that Elrond has been unnecessarily cruel to me but is afraid to say. He is a shy being at heart, only speaking up on administrative matters, which is why he has probably been in Elrond’s employ for so long. Still, it is nice to know that I still have a friend of sorts here.
Aimlessly, I drift from the house and find that my footsteps have carried me across the bridge to the healing house, which currently lies empty, awaiting the appointment of a new healer. Elrond has been interviewing elves skilled in the healing arts but has yet to decide who will carry on in Glorfindel’s stead. The door is unlocked and I creep inside, inhaling the familiar scent of herbs. On the window sill is a withered vase of flowers. The last ones that Glorfindel set out for me. I take a shrivelled blossom and bring it to my nose, there is just a ghost of its original scent remaining as it falls apart in my hand.
The rooms have been cleared of Glorfindel’s personal effects. Where they have been taken I do not know. The bed is stripped of its linen but I lay down on it anyway, remembering the one blissful time of our joining before fate so unfairly tore us asunder. My tears dampen the mattress as I weep silently for my lost love. Oh how I miss you, healer of my heart!
I notice a pillow lying on the floor, partially underneath the bed. It appears to have been missed by whomever removed the bedlinen, the pillowcase still covering it. I pull it out and bury my nose in it, sighing as I inhale the heady scent of my love. A couple of golden hairs still cling to the fabric and I gather them reverently, twining them carefully into a neat coil and fashioning it into a braided ring that I slip over one finger. How long will it be before I can once again touch that shining hair?
A noise disturbs me and I turn, jumping up from the bed as I see Elrond watching me gravely.
“I thought I might find you here.” He says disapprovingly. “He is not coming back. You might as well forget him.”
I want to glare at him but instead I drop my eyes to the floor. Terror of the dwarvish box, which Elrond has left in my room as a reminder, deters me. I do not want to find myself imprisoned in there again, for I would surely lose my mind.
“I cannot.” I murmur. “I love him.”
Elrond snorts. “Love! You are not here to love. You are here to serve me, slave. You belong to me!”
“Yes, my lord.” I answer tonelessly.
Elrond calms down and I am relieved that I have averted his anger. “Where you looking for me, my Lord?” I ask. “Do you have need of me?”
“Actually, yes. Erestor and I are going down to the storehouses to take inventory and I want you to scribe for us. Put that pillow down and come along quickly.”
He sweeps out, not waiting for me to follow. Quickly, I push the pillow under the bed to retrieve later, then I hurry to catch up with Elrond.
As we cross the bridge Elrond turns to look at me, a frown on his dark features.
“I do not want to see you moping around in there again, slave. Glorfindel is gone. We will put this episode behind us and you will serve me obediently….or else.”
He lets the threat hang in the air, not needing to finish the sentence. I know what the consequences will be.
“Yes, my Lord.” I say, eyes downcast.
As we cross the courtyard, a cold breeze sends the leaves flurrying into the sky. I pause and scent the air, consternation on my face. It has turned cold. Very cold. The breeze comes from the mountains and smells of snow. Winter is coming early!
Biting my lip, I think of Glorfindel. It takes two weeks to journey to Mirkwood through the mountain passes. Even now they will be clogged with early snow. Where are you, my love? Are you safe? I did not expect winter so soon yet I have sent my beloved healer through the mountains to Mirkwood. Have I sent him to his death?
Fighting back the tears I send a desperate prayer to the Valar. Please, blessed ones, keep my lover safe.
GLORFINDEL
The icy winds freeze my cheeks and I squint against the whirling snow as I urge Stormcloud on. I was surprised by the sudden turn in the weather. It is most unusual for winter to come this early. Cursing my ill-luck, I dismount my steed and lead him on foot. The poor beast is exhausted and freezing with cold. Elves can withstand the elements but I must find shelter or Legolas’ beloved horse will die of the cold. After a few minutes, I find a rocky overhang where the chill of the wind is kept out. There, I settle and give the horse some oats and water, allowing him to rest and recover his strength.
Legolas, my love. How do you fare? I fear Elrond will have punished you severely and it makes my heart ache to know that I am not there to help or defend you. All I can do is count on your incredible strength of spirit to carry you on. Trust in our love, my prince. I will find a way to free you, even if it means taking an army back to Imladris. Just be strong and wait for me.
My thoughts are interrupted by a distant howling. Wolves! Stormcloud startles and I soothe him with gentle elvish words. But the howling grows louder and the skittish animal rolls his eyes in fear.
Then I see them, shadows emerging from the blizzard. By the Valar, there are over a dozen of them, and they look hungry. The pack draws closer, the leader slavering as he eyes my horse. I draw my sword and step in front of the beast. If this is to be my end then I will take as many as possible with me.
LEGOLAS
My heart is still filled with anxiety come nightfall. I have a terrible feeling that something has happened to Glorfindel. The chill in the air seems to seep into my very bones and I shiver in spite of the thick robe that I have put on after my bath. Crossing to the window, I light the small lamp on the window-sill. Even though Glorfindel cannot see it, I will keep it burning as the flame in my heart burns for him. “Sweet Elbereth, Lady of Light. Please protect my love and bring him safe to Mirkwood.” I whisper as I place the small candle in its glass housing.
“Why do you insist on keeping that light burning all night?” snaps Elrond irritably as he walks into my room. I turn around, hoping that he has not heard my prayer.
“I fear the darkness, my Lord. I always have.” I murmur, keeping my eyes downcast.
The Lord of Rivendell grunts. “There are worse things than darkness to be feared in this world.” He replies. “Come to my room now. All is ready.”
I follow Elrond to his room and groan inwardly as I see the implements and restraints laid out on the bed. I will know no rest tonight!
Chapter 42: Justice
GALADRIEL
I turn away from my mirror feeling deeply troubled. Things go ill in Rivendell with Legolas. He is suffering beyond endurance. Only his love for Glorfindel keeps him from fading. It is imperative that this elf survives. I have foreseen that he will play a pivotal role in the fate of Middle Earth sometime in the distant future. If he does not survive, disaster may befall this world.
Rarely do I feel anger, particularly against my own kin. But the misdeeds of my grandsons deserve retribution. Long have they gone undisciplined by their father. They have become arrogant, immoral and spoilt. Ah, if only my dear daughter had not sailed westwards so soon. Her gentle and loving nature would have helped shape the twins into more caring and compassionate beings. But I could not expect her to remain in a cold loveless marriage with Elrond Peredhel. Then, after the incident with the orcs, she no longer knew peace and finally she took ship to Valinor. I miss her still. Which is why I keep Arwen close. She is her mother’s daughter, carrying none of her father’s flawed traits. Her heart and mind is pure and she is growing into a beautiful, but strong-minded elf-woman. A great choice awaits her in the future. A choice that will mean her life or death. I do not know the outcome. The mirror has not told me. One thing I do know is that it involves love. I hope she makes the right decision.
But back to the matter of the twins. They have treated Legolas greviously, using and abusing him for their sport, unmindful of the hurt they cause him. I cannot free Legolas. It is beyond my power and I have no authority over Rivendell. Elrond is its Lord as I am Lady of the Golden Wood. But the twins are my grandchildren and, as their grandmother, I feel a responsibility to punish them if their father will not. After some thought, I summon a messenger. “Bring Haldir to me.” I tell him.
My Marchwarden soon arrives and kneels before me reverently, his silver-blonde hair shining in the moonlight. “How can I serve you, my Lady?” he asks.
I signal for him to stand and motion him to a chair. “I wish to speak with you about Legolas.”
We speak for some time. Haldir shakes his head as he hears of the cruel treatment of the twins. His long fingers curl themselves into fists and an angry look crosses his fine features. “With respect,my Lady. I know that they are your grandsons but I would see them at the point of my sword for this.” He says, angrily. I nod, accepting his anger. I know that Legolas and Haldir have long been friends and the Marchwarden was grieved when last he returned from Imladris to see his friend as a slave to Elrond. I also know that Haldir means what he says. He would happily kill Elladan and Elrohir for harming Legolas.
“There are worse things than death.” I tell him. Haldir smiles grimly.
HALDIR
I wait in the trees, along with a carefully chosen handful of trusted elves. I brought only those I could trust on this mission. It is one of greatest sensitivity and I do not wish for anything to go wrong. We watch silently, hidden by our hooded elven cloaks as our quarry moves closer. They do not move quietly, arrogant as they are, thinking they can go where they will unmolested. The two elven riders walk their horses slowly through the forest, passing a skin of wine back and forth, leading two fine Rohan stallions. Such beautiful horseflesh is wasted on this pair. They will ride the poor beasts into the ground as they have done with their current steeds which look tired and worn. Worry not, my four-footed friends. You will have rest and pasture enough quite soon. Your masters will not need you where they are going!
I signal to my companions and we move quickly. I and my brother Rumil drop from overhanging branches, landing on the horses backs behind the sons of Elrond. Elladan twists around, attempting to draw his sword but I wrap a strong arm around his neck and slide sideways off the horse, pulling the dark-haired elf to the ground. The son of Elrond utters a curse as he lands heavily with me on top of him. I allow him to turn over and then punch him hard in the face, then a few times in the stomach. The elf folds up into a ball, gasping for breath. Drawing my sword, I hit him hard over the head with the heavy sword hilt, knocking him unconscious. Looking over at Rumil, I see that he has done the same with Elrohir. The other elves have descended from the trees and are tending to the horses.
I take some rope and bind Elladan’s wrists and ankles then throw him across his horse’s broad back. Rumil secures Elrohir in the same fashion and quickly we lead the two prisoners away.
When next they awaken, the twins find themselves in a small clearing. Both are naked and tightly bound. With great pleasure, I take a skin of water and pour it over each elf, enjoying their struggles to avoid the chill water. Elladan splutters and looks up at me. He does not recognize me thanks to the hooded cloak and the dark cloth I have tied across my face beneath my eyes, which are shadowed by the hood. “Who are you? What do you want with us?” he demands angrily. “Do you know who we are?”
“Yes. I do indeed know you, son of Elrond. You and your evil brother.”
The twins glance at each other fearfully. I draw my sword and place the tip under Elladan’s chin, forcing him to lift his head to look at me. “You have both committed a great wrong for which you are to be punished.”
“What do you speak of? What wrong have we done to you to warrant such barbaric treatment. Release us this instant.”
“It is not me you have wronged, but another. An innocent soul you have beaten and used for mere sport. Do you know of whom I speak?”
Elrohir suddenly understands. “Legolas.” He gasps. Elladan glares at him.
“He is a slave. Our father’s slave. We can do with him as we wish. It is of no concern to you.” Elladan snaps.
Crouching down, I grasp Elladan’s jaw in my hand, my fingers squeezing brutally. The Imladris elf struggles and moans in pain.. “Do you like that?” I purr, enjoying myself immensely.
“No.” gasps Elladan through gritted teeth.
I release his jaw, pushing him back onto the ground. “Then think of the pain you inflicted on your victim. I would imagine that what you just experienced was but a fraction of the pain you inflicted upon him. Think on that.”
Elrohir snarls in rage. “Legolas is nothing but a little slut!”
Rumil slaps him hard across the face. “You will not speak of the Prince of Mirkwood in such a way.” He hisses. Elrohir glares back angrily. “I can tell by your dress that you are Lothlorien elves. When our father hears of this he will make war upon you!”
“I think not.” I tell him. “Imladris is small in comparison to Lothlorien and your father will not risk incurring the wrath of the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood. Do not flatter yourselves in thinking that you are worth a war you miserable pair of half-elves.”
Just then, Orophin emerges into the clearing. “They are here.” He tells me.
“Good. I signal to the other elves of my company. “Bring them.”
Two strong elves pick up the sons of Elrond and pull them to their feet. The two peredhel struggle and utter threats and curses until they are gagged with rough cloth pushed into their mouths. Narrow leather straps hold the gags in place. A cart rolls into the clearing pulled by a horse and being led by two men. Normally I would not deal with such folk but these are extraordinary measures. An iron cage sits in the back of the cart and the two elves eye it fearfully as they struggle in their captor’s grip. The two men place metal collars around the necks of the twins as they are held tightly. Then they are bundled into the cage. Chains are passed through the rings on the collars and tethered to the bars, allowing the elves only to sit facing each other, eyes wide with fear. I smile at the sight and stroll over to look in at them.
“I presume you are wondering where you are being taken? Well, your punishment will fit your crime. You are going to Osgiliath. There is there, a certain establishment where mortal men pay to enjoy the pleasures of an elf’s body. Bound and unwilling elves are a particular favourite as they afford great sport. There you will learn discipline and humility, or face punishment.”
At this, one of the men leers at the twins, holding up an evil-looking whip. The twins eyes bulge and they begin to beg and plead through their gags.
I snicker. “I’m sure that in time, your father will find out what has become of you both and will ransom you handsomely. But not before you have thoroughly enjoyed the hospitality of these gentlemen.”
I turn to the man with the whip. “They are spirited ones, and quite spoiled. See that you beat them well.”
The man chuckles. “You can be sure of that.” He says.
I watch with a smile on my face as the cart rolls out of sight and listen to the muffled howls of the sons of Elrond as they are carried off. //You are revenged, Legolas, and it feels so sweet!//
Chapter 43: News
LEGOLAS
The weeks pass slowly for me since Glorfindel left and still I wonder if he is safe. Winter has come early to Middle Earth and it is harsh and cold, even for elves. I spend most of my free time sitting at my window, which has been set with bars since my escape through it to free my lover. Always, I gaze towards Mirkwood wondering what has become of my beloved healer. Did he make it safe through the mountain passes? Or was he beaten back by the ill-weather. Where is he now? Is he even still alive? He must be alive. I think I would feel it in my heart if he were not. But still, misgivings niggle at my sense of certainty. Could I be wrong? Will I ever see Glorfindel again?
Sighing, I absently play with the ring on my collar. I have been wearing this accursed thing for almost two years now. How much longer will I wear it? Forever, if Elrond has his way. But I comfort myself with the thought that forever is an unfeasibly long time to keep an elf enslaved, especially an elf-prince. Surely my father will question my lack of visits home? But I do not want him to find out I am a slave here. He is a proud man, and to find out that his son is a whore to the Lord of Rivendell would be disastrous, even if it was to save the kingdom. He would not understand. So I continue to write my lies of training the Rivendell elves in archery and leading them in attacks upon marauding orcs. A tear slips down my face as I think of home. The stone palace where my family resides. The dark beauty of the forest. My strong handsome loving father. My boisterous brothers. My lovely sister Miriel. How I miss her laughter and songs. And my dear eldest brother Jared. It is to him that I have sent Glorfindel to ask for help. My brother knows of my plight and will assist my lover without disclosing my dark secret to my father. I hope and pray that they will find a way to set me free so that I might see my beloved home once more.
I glance around at the painted trees and mountains on the walls, supposedly depicting Mirkwood. I had been enchanted when Elrond decorated the room for me in this manner. But now I have grown weary of it. The trees are flat and motionless and do not move in the breeze. The mountains do not even begin to appear as majestic as they do in reality. And the stars on the ceiling do not twinkle the way real ones do. But it is all I have of Mirkwood and so I must be content with it.
A few days later, a party of Dwarves arrive in Rivendell. They are travelling to Moria and have stopped en route to trade with the elves. Dwarves are never slow to pass up an opportunity for business and have brought gold, mithril and precious stones to trade for food and supplies for their journey.
Bored beyond measure, I wander down to the courtyard to watch the various transactions taking place. Even though dwarves and elves do not really get on, business is business and I watch as some of the elven craftsmen who reside here trade food, clothes and various goods in exchange for the precious metals and stones. I stand apart, enjoying the scene. In winter, visitors to Rivendell are few and any break in routine is welcome to me.
One dwarf, who has finished his trading, is rummaging in his pack in between glancing surreptitiously at me. Finally, he glances round suspiciously before sidling up to me.
“Can I help you, master dwarf?” I enquire politely.
“I think maybe I can help you, master elf.” The dwarf replies gruffly. “Is your name Legolas?”
“That it is.” I tell him, surprised. “How do you know of me?”
The dwarf pushes a piece of folded parchment into my hand.” I bring news from a friend of yours. If you would reply to this, meet me here again at sunset and I will carry a message for you.”
I thank the dwarf and hurry away, eager to find a quiet spot where I can examine the letter.
Finally, I find a secluded corner in the gardens. It is a cold wet day and not many are abroad. I pull my cloak around myself for warmth then glance around quickly. Nobody about. Good.
Standing under a tree for shelter, I lean against the trunk and unfold the parchment. My heart leaps as I see the familiar flowing script that I have seen so many times on labelled bottles and jars in the healing house. Glorfindel’s hand! Eagerly I scan the lines.
My beloved one,
My heart aches for you and has done so from the moment I left you. I pray that you survived whatever dire punishment Elrond inflicted upon you for my escape. Remember, I too know the Lord of Imladris and I know that he will have punished you severely. I wish I were there to take care of you, my love. But I hope that I can do more in going to Mirkwood to try to secure your release.
To that end, my love, I regret to say that I have not gotten very far. Winter came down quicker than we imagined it would and I got stranded in the mountain passes. Your poor horse was freezing to death and wolves were prowling round us. I thought the end was near. But then luck favoured me when a company of dwarves appeared and drove off the wolf-pack. These hardy dwarves reside deep within the mountains which was a stroke of good fortune because, many years ago, their chief was badly injured by a wild boar when he and a few of his kin were on their way to Rivendell. They took him to me and I was able to save his life. One of his kin recognized me and since then, I have been afforded great hospitality and will continue to enjoy such until the mountain passes are open again and I can continue on my way. Just imagine, Legolas, an elf, living underground with dwarves for the entire winter. How shall I endure it?
I break off reading to laugh at that notion. My poor Glorfindel. What a trial it will be for you!
In all seriousness though, these dwarves saved my life and I am very grateful to them. I heard some of them were travelling to Moria via Rivendell and I asked one to take this letter to you. I felt it would ease your worries about me. Similiarly, a reply from you would ease mine. Tell me how you fare, my love?
Every night spent without you is an eternity for me. Each night, I hold to the memory of that one sweet time we joined as lovers. We will experience such bliss again, dear Legolas. Hold true to that thought. In the meantime, stay strong for me. I know it is hard to endure the cruelty of Elrond but it will end…and soon. Jared and I will see to that.
Until we meet again, my love,
Glorfindel.
A tear falls on to the page which I quickly wipe away, not wanting to smear the ink. I bury my nose in the parchment and smile. I can faintly smell lavender. My lover’s favourite scent.
My heart swells with relief and happiness. Glorfindel is safe and well. I do not care how long it will take him to get to Mirkwood now. The fact that he is alive is enough for me. I can endure anything now! Quickly, I hurry to my rooms. I must pen a reply before sunset!
Some time later, after a few scrapped attempts, I manage what I feel is a worthy reply.
My dearest love,
It is such a relief to me to know that you are safe. When I felt winter coming so early I feared for your life and prayed to the Valar that you would survive. It seems that they have answered my prayers. So you are sheltering with dwarves? I wonder how long it will be before you tire of listening to talk of mining and Dwarvish battles! Be sure to learn some Dwarvish drinking songs that you may entertain me with at a later date. But do not drink too much of their ale. It is a strong brew and not good for elves! I found that out to my cost at a banquet in Mirkwood when the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain visited. They brought a gift of a cartload of ale and I indulged heartily. I was sick for a week! I wish I had had my loving healer then to ease my aching head.
It will please you to know that I am well. As was expected, Elrond did punish me but I will not burden you with the details. Suffice to say that he did not beat me and I have since recovered and am well, despite missing you desperately. I too hold to the memory of our single joining and I trust in the Valar that we will be together again. When you reach Mirkwood, give my love to Jared, Miriel and the rest of my family.
May the Valar protect you, my love,
Legolas.
At sunset, I slip down to the courtyard once more. The dwarf is waiting for me and he assures me that Glorfindel will receive his reply soonest as he and two of his brothers are returning to their kingdom in the mountains rather than going on to Moria. I thank the dwarf profusely and tell him that I wish I had something with wish to gift him in payment for his services. The dwarf holds up his hand. “That is not necessary, master elf. Your healer friend has already gifted us handsomely with his skills. He helped my daughter through a difficult birth that she and the baby might not have survived. That is payment enough. Farewell now, I will take your letter to him forthwith.”
Then bowing, he leaves.
I head back to Elrond’s house with a spring in my step and a gladness I have not felt in my heart for some time. Something in my soul tells me that everything is going to be alright!
Chapter 44: Apart
LEGOLAS
This winter in Rivendell has been a long and cold one. Or perhaps I simply feel it so because I am all alone. Each day I think of my dear love and pray that I will see him again soon. My thoughts are constantly with Glorfindel. As I bathe in the morning. As I walk by the river, warmly cloaked against the chill wind that whistles through the valley. As I lie reluctantly beneath Elrond each night when he possesses my body. My thoughts linger ever on my golden-haired healer. I carry his image in my head and each night, I still light my lamp for him, knowing that he cannot see it but hoping, in a way, that he knows my thoughts are with him.
I wonder if he has received my letter and if he is well? It will be many weeks yet before Glorfindel can resume his journey to Mirkwood. Today is Midwinter and tonight I must attend the Midwinter Solstice ball as Lord Elrond’s consort.
It is a night I am dreading. Having Elrond parade me around as if I were a showy jewel to be displayed to all and sundry. But I dare not refuse. Elrond has been in a foul mood of late and even the most minor transgression would see me once again imprisoned in the Dwarvish box. Erestor tells me that it is because his sons have not yet returned to Imladris.
“He suspects they are spending the winter carousing in Minas Tirith.” The ancient elf tells me.
Strangely, since Glorfindel’s departure, I have come to know Erestor better. He is not as stuffy and self-important as I had once thought. The elf is simply reserved, almost to the point of being shy. But as there is no-one else to talk to apart from Elrond, Cyrin the stable-boy or the cook, I have become more familiar with Elrond’s administrator. I know now that he does not approve of Elrond having taken me as a slave but he will not dare anger his lord by saying so. Still, it is nice to know I have an ally of sorts. Someone who is sympathetic to my plight.
With a sigh, I finish bathing and step out onto the rug, wrapping a thick towel around my body. Wandering into my room, I pause to look in the mirror. My hair has grown back somewhat since Elrond’s jealous attack on it but is still not what anyone would call long. It falls to my jawline now, too short to be braided or styled and too long to look tidy. All I can do is brush it until it shines and hope that it will meet with Lord Elrond’s approval.
It seems that tonight Elrond is determined to show everyone that I am still his. The commotion of Glorfindel’s escape from Imladris set many tongues wagging and there was general amusement that the Lord of Rivendell was cuckolded by his whore. So tonight I am to hang on Elrond’s arm and play the attentive, submissive slave. Or, as my Lord has already threatened, I will wish I had never been born.
My clothes are ready on the bed, chosen by Elrond. Tonight, it seems, I am to be clothed in black velvet, embroidered with silver threads. I would not have chosen such a dark ensemble for myself but Elrond seems to be of the opinion that it will suit me. He has had the tailor leave the neck of the shirt low and open, so that my collar will be on display for all to see.
With a resigned sigh, I pull on the clinging black velvet leggings, then slip on the high black leather boots with silver buckles. Next comes the black silk shirt and over it, the richly embroidered tunic. A belt of silver chain fastens round my slim waist, completing the outfit.
As I look at myself in the mirror, I have to admit that my clothes are quite becoming albeit stark. The sombre mood of the black is uplifted by the touches of silver and I am pleased to see that my blonde hair does not look too incongruous despite its lack of length.
“Why you look wonderful, my slave.” Elrond nods approvingly when I present myself for inspection. “Quite spectacular, yes. I think I will be the envy of every elf tonight having such a beautiful creature on my arm.”
“Thank you, my Lord.” I say, my eyes lowering submissively.
Elrond is looking quite festive. He has exchanged his usual muted autumnal shades for a rich red velvet robe. It makes him look quite striking with his pale features and sable locks. If I didn’t hate him so much I’d almost say he looked handsome. Shame about his black heart!
As I watch, Elrond puts the finishing touches to his hair, slips some rings onto his long fingers and carefully places his simple mithril crown upon his brow. Then he turns to me and moves close until our bodies are touching. I stand very still as Elrond slips an arm around my waist and pulls me close. Already I can feel his cock hardening, pressing against my hip.
He gazes at me for a long moment, his eyes flitting over my features. His free hand wanders into my hair and gently caresses it.
“So soft.” He murmurs. “Like silk.”
His lips glide over mine and obediently I open my mouth, accepting his kiss although I would rather bite his invading tongue off. Thankfully, he does not linger but pulls back to fix his gaze upon me.
“You will be on your best behaviour tonight my slave, understand?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
Elrond’s hand suddenly tightens in my hair and I gasp in pain.
“You had better understand very well, Legolas. If you even look at me in a way that displeases me, then back into the box you will go and you will stay there until you become a vacant-eyed, insane, drooling imbecile. Even a mindless fool can still be used for pleasure so I care not whether you are sane or not!”
My eyes widen in fear at the thought. “I understand perfectly, my Lord. I will not displease you, I promise. Just…not the box…anything but that, please!”
Elrond smiles gleefully at my shameless pleading and releases my hair.
“Good. I am glad we understand one another. Now…before we go anywhere, my cock seems to need some attention. On your knees, slave.”
Obediently, I kneel and undo Elrond’s robe…
GLORFINDEL
It is Midwinter. All is hustle and bustle around me as the dwarves prepare a great feast in honour of the Winter Solstice. I have been promised an experience I will never forget by my kindly hosts but my heart is not in it this night. How I long to be with my own kind. And one in particular.
Legolas. Oh, how I miss you, my fair prince. Your letter gave me great comfort for I had known nothing but anxiety since I left Imladris. I feared for your very life, that the punishment Elrond would doubtless visit upon you would break your spirit. But the tone of your letter suggests that you are well despite having experienced adversity. Your strength and love endures and for that I thank the Valar.
I cheer myself with the thought that soon the days will begin to lengthen again. In a few weeks the snows will melt and I can continue on my journey to Mirkwood. But for now, I must content myself with waiting in this dwarven stronghold.
I know that tonight, the elves of Imladris will also be celebrating the Midwinter Solstice. There will be feasting, music and dancing. And like as not, Elrond will be displaying his beautiful slave to all. I heave a sigh, knowing that Legolas will hate every moment, wanting only to be free of his overbearing master but unable to do anything but endure the evening as best he can.
With a sigh, I make my way to my chamber to dress for the night’s festivities.
Soon, my love. We will be together again. I promise you, I will find a way!
LEGOLAS
How tedious this night is proving to be! As expected, Elrond parades me around, showing me off to his friends and I have to endure the curious stares and whispers from the numerous elves that crowd the Hall of Fire. I am but a curiosity here. Lord Elrond’s slave. Oh to be in Mirkwood. There, I would have a place of honour at my father’s table. We would dance and drink and listen to the many tales of the Forest realm. Here, lofty accounts of the Noldorin are told and they interest me but little. Instead, I pay attention to my wineglass, ignoring Elrond’s disapproving look. Soon, he pulls me to my feet, leading me to the middle of the floor to dance. Giddy from too much wine, I feel slightly disorientated and more than once I stumble against Elrond as we dance. The Lord of Rivendell frowns and hides my clumsiness by pulling me close against him.
“Fool of a slave!” He hisses in my ear. “You have drunk far too much wine. I swear by the Valar, if you make me look foolish I will indeed carry out my threat and lock you away in the box!”
A cold chill of fear runs through me at his words and I straighten up, forcing myself back to sobriety.
“Forgive me, my Lord. I had not realised I had drunk too much until I stood up. Erestor’s story went on for quite a long while.”
Elrond suddenly chuckles. “Indeed it did, my slave. I fear you were not the only one seeking solace in their wine. That elf would send even the Valar to sleep. Come, let us end this dance. Go and walk in the garden and recover your senses. I do not want you passing out before I can enjoy you tonight.”
“Yes, my Lord.” I say, leaving with a courteous bow. I am fortunate that Elrond is mellowing thanks to the wine although I feel bad about making a joke at Erestor’s expense. However, it has granted me a few minutes freedom from this tedium and I take the unexpected opportunity eagerly.
The air is cool, welcomingly so after the heat of the great hall. It is a clear night and I know that in the morning, the paths will be whitened with frost. But for now, the sky is a carpet of black velvet sprinkled with twinkling stars, like a hoard of diamonds, spilled by some careless dwarf.
The thought of dwarves lead me to think of Glorfindel. How are you celebrating tonight, my love? Are your Dwarven hosts filling you with ale and roast meats? Have you joined in their lusty drinking songs?
I smile at the memory of last year as I sit down on a stone bench in the garden. The very bench where I came upon my healer, drunk as a lord on Elven wine. I remember how fiercely he kissed me, trying to remind me of the loving feelings I had had for him before the incident with the mallorn-root almost claimed my life. Poor Glorfindel. How you suffered in those months, watching me walk at Elrond’s side, oblivious to our love. So much time lost.
But then our love prevailed. You helped me retrieve my lost memories and see Elrond for what he really was. For a few months, we loved in secret. For one blissful night we were together. And now here we are, torn away from each other again. Oh, how I miss you, my love!
A tear slips down my cheek and I blink it away. Raising my face to the stars, I sing an elven prayer:
A Elbereth Gilthoniel
Silivren penna miriel
O menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaerad palan-diriel
O galadhremmin ennorath
Fanuilos, le linnathon,
Nef aear, si nef aearon!
As the last words die away into the silence of the night, a rustling behind me alerts me to the presence of another. Elrond steps into the moonlight and seats himself beside me.
“You sing beautifully, my slave. I should have had you sing for my guests’ enjoyment this evening.” He remarks.
“I do not like to sing in public, my Lord.” I reply. “I sing only for myself.”
Elrond’s eyes flash dangerously and his tone is as cold as the winter air. “You will sing for me if I demand it! Do not forget yourself, Legolas.”
I only nod in reply, turning my head to look into the quiet gardens. At length, a question comes to me and I risk Elrond’s anger to ask it.
“Why do you keep me here when you know I have no love for you?”
There is a long silence. Then, just when I think he will not answer, Elrond speaks.
“Love only leads to loss and pain. You should know this, my slave, having experienced it for yourself.”
I know he is referring to Glorfindel although he will not speak his name. Curiously, I turn to look at Elrond.
“You speak of losing someone that you loved. Do you refer to your wife?” I ask tentatively.
The Lord of Rivendell nods, his dark locks moving like black waves. “Yes.” He says softly. “And one whom I loved long before. Love is an emotion I have learned to live without. Instead, I comfort myself with your exquisite body. It is enough for me.”
I shake my head. “Then you do not really live. For to live without love is to only exist.”
Elrond is silent again, as if considering my words. He gazes at me for a long time, then gently tucks an errant lock of hair behind my ear.
“You are very young, my slave. Pray that these romantic notions will soon leave you, for they will cause you nothing but pain.”
I shake my head. “I would never ask that. For then what is there to live for? I would rather die.”
Elrond shrugs. “Then you are a fool, my slave. Come, I tire of this absurd conversation. Let us return to the hall.”
Obediently, I rise and follow Elrond inside. But not before turning to look one last time in the direction of the mountains. May the Valar be with you, my dearest love.
Chapter 45: Spring
GLORFINDEL
At last. As last the day I have longed for all winter has come. The first spring breezes have come to the mountain passes, bringing with them the thawing of the snows. Finally I can continue my journey to Mirkwood. There to meet with Jared, beloved elder brother of my dearest prince. Hope burns anew in my heart that somehow, we will find a way to free my love from the evil clutches of Elrond.
My heart is high as I saddle Stormcloud and pack provisions for the journey. The dwarves with whom I had lodged for the winter have been kind and gracious hosts. Nevermore will I tolerate Elven suspicion of this brave and diminuitive folk! They have been generous to a fault. In return, I devoted my healing skills to caring for their kind and I now leave behind some elven wisdom and remedies which I hope they will find useful. It is the only way I can repay them.
The last thing I do before I leave is to entrust my hosts with another letter for Legolas which they promise to deliver the next time they visit Imladris. It runs thus:
My sweetest prince,
This has been a long and lonely winter for us both, being that we are separated from one another. But be of good cheer, my love. I leave now for Mirkwood. The mountain passes are once again clear and I pray that I will reach your father’s kingdom before the coming of the next full moon. Hold true to our love, dear Legolas. We will see each other again. When, I cannot yet say, but know that Jared and I will do everything we can to find a way to win your freedom. May the blessings of the Valar be upon you.
All my love, as ever,
Glorfindel.
I know not when the letter will be delivered but I hope it will be sooner rather than later. I worry that the weeks of loneliness may have weighed heavy on my love’s fragile heart and I hope that this letter will cheer him anew. But now, on to Mirkwood!
LEGOLAS
The air is warmer today, bringing the first signs of Spring into the valley. It is a bittersweet time for me, for although I have long been awaiting the end of winter, it also heralds the oncoming anniversary of my second year as Elrond’s slave.
I look towards the mountains. Has Spring melted the snows yet? Has my love resumed his journey to Mirkwood? I have no way of knowing but I trust in the Valar and pray that he will reach my father’s kingdom in safety. I do not fool myself with thoughts that he and Jared will come easily to a plan to gain my freedom. It may be months yet, nay, even years before I can leave Imladris so I do not trust too much to hope. As always, I simply endure.
GLORFINDEL
Two weeks I have travelled and, weary though I am, I keep Stormcloud to a brisk pace. In front of me at last are the borders of Mirkwood. The great forest looms dark and mysterious before me, bisected only by a thin line where the old Forest Road enters the trees. I know not what lies before me, whether I venture into friendly or enemy territory and I bring a hand to my sword-hilt to reassure myself that it is still there. Legolas’ quiver rests against my back, sheathed within are his knives and arrows, ready to deal out death to any who would impede my progress. His bow is fastened to my saddle, ready to hand should the need arise. It is comforting to have my lover’s weapons on me. It almost feels like he is here, protecting me, himself.
The forest road is quiet. Unnaturally so and I encounter no traffic upon it, which I find strange. Nevertheless, I continue on my journey, hoping that it will lead me to the kingdom of Thranduil.
“Daro! Who comes here? State your business!”
I rein in my horse at the authorative voice from the trees. Presently, a number of elves descend from the branches and step out into the road in front and behind me, barring my way. All have bows drawn, arrows pointing at me ready to fly. Carefully I raise my hands.
“Is this any way to greet a fellow elf?” I joke, trying to defuse the tension.
The leader of the group walks up to me. He is stern of face and large of build. Obviously the captain of this group.
“Who are you and what brings you here?” he asks, ignoring my jest.
“I am Glorfindel of Imladris. I come here wishing to see your king, for I have tidings of his son, Legolas.”
The elf raises a cynical eyebrow and looks as though he will make a disparaging comment when he notices the bow that lies across my saddle. His eyes widen and he looks at me in surprise.
“You speak the truth.” He states.
“As I always do. You have seen this bow before? Obviously you know to whom it belongs.”
The elf smiles now. “How could I not? For I taught its use to its owner when he was but an elfling. I am Gildar, captain of the Mirkwood guard.
“Then we are well-met. For I am Glorfindel, healer of Imladris and closest friend of your young Prince.”
I refrain from stating the true nature of our relationship as I do not know how it will yet be received.
“And you wish to see Thranduil?”
“Yes.”
The elf frowns. “Alas, he has left Mirkwood for the Grey Havens but three days since.”
“He is sailing west?” I gasp. Legolas will be devastated!
“Not at all.” Gildar smiles. “He is gone to visit his cousin, Cirdan the shipwright. Some of our people wish to leave these lands and he is commissioning a ship to be built for them. The Prince Jared rules in his stead.”
“Then it is to him that I shall speak. Will you be so kind as to escort me to the palace?” I ask.
“For a friend of the young Prince, it will be a pleasure.” Gildar says.
As we make our journey, I ask Gildar why the road is so quiet.
“The old Forest Road is no longer in use by the elves. Since the shadow of Sauron was cast out, most of the evil creatures were driven away from our kingdom but danger yet lurks around this road. A newer one has since been built which we may travel in safety. It lies further to the west and leads more directly to our kingdom. Obviously you have not travelled these lands in quite some time.”
“It has been a while indeed.” I concede, wryly.
At last, we reach the palace and I am conducted to the throne-room where Jared holds court in his Father’s stead. A herald announces me and I have the pleasure of seeing Legolas’ brother’s face light up in surprise.
“Leave us.” He commands to the others gathered there.
When we are alone, Jared stands and embraces me.
“You are most welcome here, my friend. My brother confided in me, telling me that his heart belongs to you. What news of Legolas?” He asks.
“It is not good.” I sigh, and with that, I give an account of all that has happened since Jared’s last visit.
The prince listens in silence, only interrupting when I recount the twins’ attack on Legolas.
“They shall pay dearly should our paths ever cross.” He says. “And as for Elrond himself…”
I nod in understanding and continue with my story. Jared smiles at the selflessness of his brother helping me to escape my death sentence.
“That is so like Legolas to put those he loves before himself.” He comments. “My little brother has a brave heart.”
“Yes, he does. Unfortunately it is that selflessness that has made him Elrond’s prisoner. Jared, we must help him. Legolas cannot endure this torment alone. We must find a way to save him.”
The prince shakes his head. “I have long pondered this problem, Glorfindel. Since I learned of my brother’s enslavement I have secretly been reading books of ancient lore trying to find some way to counteract the charm on his collar. Alas, I have so far found nothing. Many times I have wanted to tell my Father about his youngest son’s plight but I gave my word to Legolas that none would know. What am I to do?”
“I know not.” I sigh. “I had hoped that together we might find a solution.”
Jared smiles. “Then be hopeful, master healer. We will find a way. Now come, you have had a long and tiring journey. Eat and rest, then tomorrow we will begin our search anew.”
“Thank you, my Lord.”
A servant conducts me to a handsomely appointed room where I may bathe and rest. He orders a tray of food and drink to be brought also.
With a grateful sigh, I lie down on the bed to rest. As I drift into slumber my last thought is of Legolas.
//Courage, my sweet prince. We will free you…somehow.//
Chapter 46: Guilt
LEGOLAS
I have been treading carefully around Lord Elrond these past few weeks. Since the snows melted and messages once again began arriving to Rivendell from various parts of Middle Earth, Elrond has begun searching anew for word of his sons. For my part, I hope that they never return, but I’m sure that they will show up sooner or later. I have not forgotten the dreadful assault and beating I suffered at their hands. Nor will I forgive. Elrond is becoming increasingly morose and ill-tempered. “They have never been away this long before.” I overhear him saying to Erestor one day as I pass his study. “Somebody must have word of them.”
The timid administrator makes placatory noises and then hurries from the room. As he leaves, he spots me loitering nearby and hurries over. “You would do well to occupy yourself elsewhere, Legolas. Our Lord is not in a good temper.” He warns.
“Still no word of the twins then?” I ask.
Erestor shakes his head. “No. Elrond grows increasingly concerned. Not that I want them back here getting under my feet and causing trouble but at least their presence may sweeten his foul temper.”
I laugh mirthlessly not knowing which is worse. Enduring Elrond’s moods or enduring the twins loathsome presence. Either way it will doubtless mean a miserable time for me.
I thank Erestor for his warning and make my way out to the gardens. As is my habit now, I find a seat by the river and turn my gaze towards Mirkwood. I wonder if I will receive any word from Glorfindel or my family? How do they fare? Valar, I miss them all so much. With a wistful sigh, I glance towards the healing house, wishing that it was still the sanctuary I once shared with my lover. But that time is gone and past. Another healer now occupies it. A younger elf who had been receiving training from Glorfindel. His skills are good but he lacks my love’s warm personality. Sometimes a loving touch heals better than the strongest herb. But I cannot hold that against the young elf. I have heard that he is good at what he does and that, I suppose, is the main thing.
A few days later I am helping Elrond in the library. The Lord of Rivendell is in the habit of taking books and scrolls to his study for reference or reading and then leaving them there until his desk is overflowing so today I am replacing everything with care. It is a long and dusty job but at least it keeps me occupied. Something I have become increasingly grateful for since Glorfindel left.
Having consigned the last scroll to its proper resting place, I return to Elrond’s study to start on the large piles of books stacked on the various tables and the floor. However, when I enter, I realise something is wrong. Elrond is sitting at his desk, staring at a dirty piece of parchment upon which is a hurried and untidy scrawl. I cannot see what it says but it seems to be a source of distress to the Lord of Rivendell. His gaze shifts from it to me and I gasp as I see how pale Elrond has become. There is a mixture of anger and pain in his eyes and suddenly the elf appears as old as all his years.
“My Lord?” I enquire gently. “Are you ill? Shall I summon the healer?”
The dark-haired elf shakes his head. “No, I am not ill. Continue with your work.”
I nod and pick up a stack of books then make my way to the library. It seems Elrond has had some sort of bad news. But what?
I return a few minutes later to find Elrond gone. His study is empty, his newly-cleaned desk unattended. I can’t help but notice the parchment still lying on its surface and it piques my curiosity. But I dare not look at it. If Elrond were to catch me reading anything on his desk I would be severely punished. Instead I continue on with my task.
However, the next time I return to the study and find it still empty I can no longer resist the temptation and I move over to the desk and pick up the parchment.
The script is untidy and was obviously written in a hurry but I can make out most of it. It is from the sons of Elrond, explaining that they are being held in a brothel in Ithilien and begging their father to ransom them! If I did not hate the twins so much I would almost feel sorry for them but I cannot help feeling that poetic justice has been served. They have been violated as I have. Sold into slavery as playthings. The Valar indeed must have a sense of humour. I cannot help but chuckle at the thought.
And then I become aware of a presence behind me and turn to see Elrond staring at me with a furious look on his face. I feel my knees turn to water as he advances towards me, his eyes burning with anger.
“Just what is so funny, slave?” He demands.
“N-nothing, my Lord.” I stutter, backing away. But it is no use. I have been caught red-handed.
“You think it is very funny don’t you? How fitting that my sons have suffered such a fate?”
“N-no, my Lord.” I say, shaking my head as I back away.
“LIAR!!” Elrond screams backhanding me hard across the face.
I cry out in pain as a jewelled ring tears my cheek. The force of the blow knocks me into a shelf and I go down hard, spilling books and parchment onto the floor with me. Cowering in fear, I try to get away, scrabbling at the floor with my hands and feet as Elrond towers over me like a great raven but I find myself cornered and can only whimper in fear as Elrond grabs my tunic and hauls me to my feet. Enraged, he hurls me against the shelf again and I groan as the hard edges jar my spine. The Lord of Rivendell grasps my throat and squeezes, making the collar dig cruelly into my tender skin. I choke and gasp, trying desperately to draw breath as my hands fight to break Elrond’s cruel grip. The ancient elf watches, his lips twisting with grim amusement at my predicament. Then at last he lets go.
Dizzy and sick from lack of air, I fall to the floor and remain there, crouched on hands and knees, one hand nursing my aching throat.
“Little slut!” Hisses Elrond as he stands over me. “How dare you laugh at my sons misfortune. When I find who was responsible they will pay dearly.”
He grabs my hair and jerks my head up, making me wince with pain. Smoky grey eyes glare wrathfully at me. “And if I find out this was something to do with what they did to you…then you will suffer too.”
Despite my pain, I cannot stifle a harsh laugh at this statement. As if I don’t suffer already!
Elrond snarls and kicks me hard, knocking me on the floor again. I realise that the Lord of Rivendell is furious but my temper is now aroused and some madness inside me refuses to be kept quiet.
“They deserved it!” I shout at Elrond. “I hope they were violated many times over. I hope they suffered the same depraved torments you inflict on me!”
The Lord of Rivendell drags me to my feet and raises a hand to strike me again. I glare back at him defiantly. But the blow never lands. Instead he drops his hand and pushes me suddenly away from him.
“That is enough. Go and have that cut seen to. I will deal with you later.” He says, his voice subdued.
I frown at this strange behaviour but do not wait around to find the cause of it. Instead, I make for the door and leave quickly.
ELROND
“I hope they suffered the same depraved torments you inflict on me!”
The words echo over and over in my mind as I sink onto a chair and place a hand to my aching head. Only now, upon hearing of my sons’ desperate situation, do I get an inkling of how Legolas must feel being kept here and made to submit to my desires. Yes, he has suffered, and continues to suffer at my hands. For the first time, I feel a pricking of conscience. I have treated him badly, there is no denying that. He hates me and I know I will never have his love. “What am I to do with him?” I sigh aloud.
//You could let him go.// A still small voice inside me says.
“But then I will be alone.” I murmur in response.
//Better to be alone than hated by someone kept here against his will.//
I ponder this thought in silence until a discreet cough at the door alerts me to Erestor’s presence.
“You sent for me, my lord?” He asks.
“Yes. My sons have been located. They are in Ithilien and appear to have gotten themselves into a…predicament of sorts. You must travel there and secure their release.”
I hand the dirty scrap of parchment to my administrator. I received it just this morning, handed to me by an elf who had been travelling Middle Earth for some years. Most elves tend to live amongst their own kind but there are a few who wander alone. It was one of these travellers who found my sons’ note, thrown from a barred window into his path as he passed by. Fortunate indeed for my sons, for elves are seldom seen in the cities of men. I rewarded the elf well for his pains and he has since continued on his way. Now that I know what has become of Elladan and Elrohir, I must send Erestor to bring them home like lost elflings. They will return in disgrace and as usual there will be talk. Once again, the house of Elrond will be a topic of amusement for the gossips.
Fuming inwardly, I decide that I have already lost enough face in front of my people. Legolas will remain here as my slave. My rule must be seen to be absolute!
Chapter 47: Misdirection
LEGOLAS
I had expected to be severely punished for my outburst at Elrond but the Lord of Rivendell has yet to carry out his threat of ‘dealing with me later’. It has been two days since the dreadful events in the library and Elrond has not touched me. He has not come to my bed nor has he sent for me at any time. He keeps to his room or wanders the gardens alone, seeming deep in thought. It seems the fate of his sons has had a profound effect on him and I begin to dare to hope that this may mean I will soon be released. I try not to raise my hopes too much but I cannot help thinking of seeing my love’s beautiful face again. Returning to the bosom of my family. To Mirkwood. My home.
Erestor left yesterday for Ithilien with a king’s ransom for the twins. The thought of their return is loathsome to me. I wonder will they be in any way repentant having suffered as I have? Will they be chastened by their experiences or will it have corrupted them even more? Only time will tell. It is many weeks journey to the far city of men so their arrival is yet a distant thought. I will deal with that problem when it presents itself.
But for now, I will enjoy this beautiful spring day. The sun, though still weak in strength is pleasing to my elven skin and everything smells fresh and clean after the night’s rain. Birds sing in the trees which are ripe with tiny green buds and everywhere, there is the promise of a new beginning. I cannot help but smile. A new beginning….dare I hope there will be one for me?
I round a corner and stop short. Elrond sits on a rock, staring into the rushing depths of the river, swollen still with waters draining from the mountains on each side as the snows thaw. Before I can withdraw, he raises his eyes to mine and beckons me to come sit beside him. Reluctantly, I obey, sitting as far from him as I dare without making it seem like a deliberate slight. It takes little for Lord Elrond to fly into a rage these days.
For a while there is silence. The dark-haired elf seems content to just watch the river and I almost lull myself into a daydream when his resonant voice breaks the spell.
“Your words in the library the other day were true, Legolas. You have suffered at my hands and for that I apologise. My sons did you a great wrong too, and it seems the Valar has punished them for their misdeeds. They will not be the same elves they were when they return. Of that, I am sure.”
I do not speak. Instead, I hold Elrond’s gaze as he talks, wondering where this will lead to. Could it be that I am about to gain my freedom?
ELROND
Legolas stares at me, and I can see the hope written plainly in his eyes. Yes, I feel remorse for my harsh treatment of him but I cannot bring myself to give up this beautiful elf. Every time I think of him with Glorfindel it rekindles a jealous fire in my heart and I will not let Legolas go to be with him. Besides, I tell myself, it would show weakness that I, the Lord of Rivendell, could not hold mastery over my slave. Legolas must remain here but I will try to be a more gentle master.
I move closer to the blonde elf, watching how he schools his features to keep from flinching away. Valar, if only I had been more gentle with him at the outset maybe things would have been different. Maybe he would have remained here out of choice instead of flying to the arms of the healer, but the past cannot be changed. I above all know that.
“Forgive my harsh treatment of you, Legolas. I promise that in the future, I will not use violence against you. You will continue to serve me but I will only punish outright rebellion. If you conduct yourself as expected there will be no need even for that. Do you understand?”
LEGOLAS
I stare dumbly at Elrond,not believing what I am hearing. Continue to serve? Then he has no intention of freeing me! The rest of his words pass unheard over my head as I struggle to come to terms with this news. My hopes of freedom are once again dashed and my love is once again far out of my reach. Oh, Elbereth, why play these games with me?
“Legolas? Legolas, are you listening to me?”
Elronds voice cuts sharply into my thoughts and I raise my head to see him looking vexed. “Yes, my Lord.” I mumble automatically, not even knowing what he was talking about.
“What is the matter with you?” He asks, his grey eyes piercing mine.
I shake my head and almost tumble off the rock as Elrond reaches for me. Tears spill down my face and I stumble away, unable to bear my master’s touch. I run blindly, not caring that Elrond is following, calling my name, demanding that I return to him. Oh Valar, help me!
So blinded by tears am I that I run headlong into the pillar of a stone pavilion which houses a statue of the Lady Elbereth. Dazed, I sink down to the ground, my back against the base of it. It is there that Elrond finds me when he finally catches up.
ELROND
By the smoking fires of Mount Doom! Where has that slave of mine gotten to? I try to speak reasonably to him and he gets all emotional and runs away! What did I say?
Ah, there he is, slumped against that pillar. By Elbereth, he is beautiful even when he cries.
I stoop down before him and brush his untidy hair from his eyes. He tries to pull away but I lean in and press a kiss to his tear-stained cheek. “Hush, my slave. Calm yourself. This behaviour simply will not do.” I remonstrate.
“Please…let me go.” Legolas sobs brokenly.
Ah…that is why he reacted they way he did. My beautiful slave thought I was about to grant him his freedom. Poor misguided elf. I could no more let him go than I could command the sun to stop in the sky!
“That I cannot do, my sweet slave. You have enchanted me with your beauty and grace. I am as enslaved by you as you are by me. I have neither the will nor the strength to let you go.”
I lean forward to kiss him again but Legolas turns his head away.
“I don’t love you.” He says.
“I know. And I do not blame you for that. I have given you more reasons to hate me. So many that I fear you will never know any kind of warmth for me at all. But still I want you. I…need you.”
Legolas has no answer to that. Instead he bursts into fresh sobs, hiding his face in his hands. At a loss for anything else to do, I take him in my arms and rock him gently until he quiets. After a while, I realise he is asleep.
LEGOLAS
The sun feels warm on my skin and I smile as I rest in the arms of my love. My Glorfindel. Healer of my heart. He kisses my hair, combing long agile fingers through it as he murmurs endearments in my ear. I sigh and shift in his embrace, feeling my member coming alive between my legs. Glorfindel feels it stir and chuckles, murmuring something unintelligible against my hair. A strong hand massages my burgeoning cock and I moan with arousal. Oh my love…you know just how to touch me. I keep my eyes closed as my lover moves, changing position. I feel tired in a warm drowsy way. Opening my eyes would break the spell, as much as I want to look into my lover’s emerald green eyes. I feel muscular thighs straddling me, fabric brushes my face, hard flesh pulsing beneath. My lips twitch with anticipation as I know what is coming next.
And then the smooth round head of my lover’s cock brushes my mouth and I open my jaws, eager tongue flicking out to taste him. A throaty moan is my reward and I slide my lips down over the hardened shaft, taking him into my throat. I begin to suck, leaning my head back against the stone behind me, allowing him to thrust into my willing mouth. Gentle but firm hands hold my head to prevent me bumping my skull and I work my throat muscles, allowing my mouth to be fucked in earnest. With a free hand, I work the laces of my leggings open and pull out my aching shaft. How remiss of Glorfindel to neglect my desires. It is most unlike him!
I stroke myself in a matching rhythm to that which my lover is enjoying and we are both almost near to completion when a voice, a very familiar voice, makes me jump.
“What in all of Middle Earth is going on here?”
My eyes fly open and I almost gag when I see that it is Elrond and not Glorfindel astride me. I must have been dreaming! Elrond yelps as I pull my mouth away, bottom teeth dragging up the length of his shaft and we both turn and gaze with horror at my father.
Chapter 48: Cataclysm
THRANDUIL
I cannot believe what I see before me as I stand in the gardens of Rivendell. My son. My dearest youngest son, engaged in a disgusting act with Elrond Peredhel. I had come here to visit Legolas and praise him for his admirable work in training the Rivendell guard. Instead, I find him whoring himself to the Lord of Rivendell.
The two elves stare at me, frozen in their depravity as I stare back, dumbfounded. Seconds pass, and then suddenly my son scrambles to his feet, pushing his now flaccid member back into his leggings. In a detached way, I notice that he has lost weight and at some point cut his hair. Also he wears some kind of ornate, heavy collar around his neck. A gift from his half-elven lover, I suppose.
Elrond appears unruffled as he adjusts his robes. In fact he smirks at me with self-satisfaction. There is not much love lost between Elrond and I. Elrond always regarded the Mirkwood elves as a lowlier class to the high Noldor. But at least the Silvan race are no kin-slayers. True, it is ancient history now, even to elves such as I. But I would not trust the half-elf as far as I could throw him. And now he has seduced my son. My rage threatens to boil over into violence and I clench my fist to keep from drawing my sword and spilling ancient elven blood. He is still kin by marriage to the Lady of the Golden Wood. Galadriel would declare war upon Mirkwood were I to slay her son-in-law.
My son approaches, white-faced, cheeks flushed with shame. So well he might feel ashamed. Look at him, a once-proud warrior, behaving like a common whore. No son of mine is this!
LEGOLAS
“Father…” I begin, desperate to explain. I must make him understand. I know what he must think, finding me like this. Oh Valar! Never would I have wanted my sire to find me engaged in such an act with my loathed master. I must explain how this can be.
My father stares at me, blue eyes, so like mine, piercing my soul as if he would find the answer there. I will him to look deep and see that I did not willingly become what I am now. “Please father, let me explain.”
“YOU WHORE!!” My father cries, striking me hard enough to knock me to the ground. I lie there, paralyzed with shock as he towers over me, hands twitching as if he would strangle me. And then he does! I gasp as Thranduil drops to his knees, seizes me by the throat and starts throttling the very life from me. I struggle, choking, begging with my eyes for him to stop. Give me a chance to explain…please!
“If I had not seen it with my own eyes I would not have believed it!” he rages. “A son of mine. A Prince of Mirkwood. Disporting himself with this…this half-elf!”
Vainly, I try to pry my father’s fingers from my throat. The collar digs into my flesh under his hands. Does he not notice it? Does he not understand what it means? Father….please!
I start to see dark spots in front of my eyes. I feel my strength failing. To die by my sire’s hand. I never imagined…
And then suddenly, his grip slackens. Elrond, of all people, pulling him off me.
“By Manwe, let go of him, Thranduil. You will kill him!” He cries, hauling my father away from me.
“He deserves to die!” Thranduil replies, throwing Elrond’s hands aside. “He’s nothing but a whore!”
My father lunges at me again but is restrained by Elrond. By now, both Rivendell and Mirkwood elves have arrived at the scene, drawn by Thranduil’s bellowing and are milling about, wondering whether or not to intervene. Elrond holds up a regal hand, urging them to stay back. He restrains my father in a tight grip until he ceases struggling.
For my part, I cannot speak. My throat is swollen and sore from my father’s stranglehold and I can only gasp for breath, each intake of air making an ugly rasping sound.
Thranduil points a trembling finger at me. “What is that round your neck?” He asks.
I cannot reply. I put a hand to the collar and shake my head, trying to make him understand that I wear it under duress. Elrond replies instead with a cold smile in my direction.
“It is a gift from me. A token of my…affection. You see, Thranduil, your son has enchanted me. I could no more resist him than he could refuse me.”
No! I watch in horror as Thranduil stares at Elrond and then turns to look at me as if I were something highly unpleasant. He’s got it wrong! Ada, no! Elrond has misled you! It’s not like that at all!
Desperately I try to speak as my father rises to his feet and stares coldly down at me.
“Do not ever return to Mirkwood again. You are not my son. You are not a prince. You are nothing to me. Legolas is dead.”
And with that, he turns and walks away. Gathering my strength, I crawl after him and tug at the end of his cloak. There is something I must know.
“Ada…..*cough*….Glorfindel…”
Thranduil frowns. “Who?” he asks.
“Glorfindel.” Interjects Elrond, who has followed in my wake. “He was the healer here in Rivendell, up till recently. He had to leave. There was an embarrassing…incident.”
He glances sadly down at me then back at Thranduil who stares at me in disgust. I shake my head, tears streaming down my cheeks as I hang onto his cloak for dear life, unwilling to let him go.
“I know of no Glorfindel. I have not seen him. Now do not speak to me again.”
“Please, Ada.” I beg. My voice still a throaty rasp. But it is useless. My father yanks his cloak from my grasp and walks away without a backward glance. It is the last straw for me. I have lost my innocence, lost my lover, and now I have lost my father. I cannot endure this…I cannot.
I sink to the ground sobbing. My tears cascading to wet the earth. Oh sweet Valar, help me!
ELROND
I watch with satisfaction as a furious Thranduil rides out of Rivendell. It all worked out so beautifully. A few carefully chosen words and the king of Mirkwood has forsaken his son. Glorfindel has gone. Legolas is disowned. He has nobody now but me. I look back to see that the young elf has passed out with grief and I order some of the remaining guards to carry him to his chamber. When he awakens, I will be there to comfort and give him solace. There is no-one else here for him now. In time, Legolas will cling to me for support in all things. He will be mine.
Chapter 49: Misunderstanding
GLORFINDEL
Time weighs heavy on my hands here in Mirkwood. It seems that since I arrived here, I have been waiting for one thing or another. Waiting for the messenger to return from Rivendell with a reply to the letter I sent Legolas as soon as I arrived here. Waiting for Thranduil’s return from the Grey Havens so that we may discuss this matter with him. Waiting to find a solution to the problem of freeing Legolas from slavery.
Jared and I searched exhaustively for some spell or charm that would free Legolas from the collar. But we have found nothing. Elrond used an ancient and powerful spell and it is not one that is easily broken, if it is at all possible. We have talked long into the night, Jared and I, exploring every avenue of thought but finding only obstacles to block our path.
Taking Rivendell by force is impossible. It is well guarded both by magic and soldiers. Nor will diplomacy be of any use. I have seen Elrond remain immovable in his decisions many times. Once the Elf-lord is set on a course of action, he will not turn aside from it. And when it comes to Legolas, he is most possessive of all. He would sooner see Legolas die than let him go free.
There is only one thing to do. We must speak with Thranduil once he returns and tell him everything. I am sure that once he knows the truth and understands what Legolas sacrificed for the Kingdom of Mirkwood, he will come up with some course of action. But until his return, I must wait, and that is the most difficult thing for me to do.
But Jared proves himself a good companion in the meantime. We spend our evenings in his quarters drinking wine and swapping stories about our beloved Legolas. It warms my heart to hear tales of my elf’s youth and the scrapes he got into as an elfling. I have very kindly been allowed to use Legolas’ room to sleep in and each night, I am comforted with the faint scent of my love as I drift off to sleep, filling my mind with dreams of him. I live for the day when I can share this bed, and my body with my beloved Legolas again. //Soon.// I pray to the Valar each night. //Let it be soon.//
Finally, my waiting comes to an end. One afternoon, I am pacing the ramparts of the palace when I catch sight of a flash of colour moving through the trees. Looking closer, I see that it is the royal standard of Mirkwood. Thranduil has returned!
Quickly, I hurry to the throne room and find Jared. “Your father returns.” I tell him. “Now may we speak to him about Legolas?”
Jared nods. “We shall.”
We wait impatiently for the King to arrive. At last he does, and I shift from one foot to another impatiently as he greets his court. Finally, the civilities over, Jared speaks up.
“Father. I must speak with you about a grave matter. In private.”
Thranduil, who looks morose and tired, nods resignedly. “Leave us.” He commands to his court.
Jared bids me stay and I wait nervously as the Prince pours his father a cup of wine and hands it to him.
Thranduil drinks deeply and then sits back with a sigh. “What is this grave matter you wish to speak about? I presume it concerns this elf here?" He gestures towards me with his cup and I bow courteously in response, waiting until I am directly spoken to before I speak, as such is the way with kings.
“It is about Legolas.” Jared begins. “He is-“
He breaks off in shock as Thranduil hurls his wine cup across the hall and glares at him.
“Do not speak that name in my presence. I have no son by that name!”
“Father, what-?” Jared begins again, but is cut off by Thranduil’s furious ranting.
“I saw him! I saw that, that whore rutting with the half-elf! Ai, that I would see a son of mine, a prince of Mirkwood debase himself so! Do not speak to me about Legolas. I know all about him and he is dead to me, do you understand? Dead!”
There is a stunned silence as we take in what the king has just said. Then Jared speaks up once again.
“Father you do not understand. You must listen to me, please.”
“I MUST NOT!!” Thranduil roars, enraged. Jared pales in the face of his father’s wrath and falls silent, his eyes downcast. Then the king turns his gaze on me.
“And who might you be that you are allowed be party to this discussion?” He sneers.
I step forward, holding the Kings gaze. “I am Glorfindel, the healer. Formerly of Rivendell.”
“Ha! The healer! I wondered where you fit into this. If you’ve come to complain about my slut of a son take comfort in the fact that I have disowned him. He can rot with his half-elf lover for all I care.”
White-hot rage burns within me and it takes all my efforts to remain calm. I manage it. Only just. I am no use to Legolas if I am angry and irrational.
“You misunderstand me, O king. I am here to speak in his defence. He is not Elrond’s lover. He is his slave.” I tremble with barely supressed anger, keeping my voice low and calm.
Thranduil frowns. “A slave? No…that cannot be. I saw them together…doing such things…” he trails off, shaking his head in denial.
“What you saw was Legolas performing his duties to Elrond. The Lord of Rivendell has been using him to satisfy his desires for nigh on two years. You have no idea the level of suffering your son has gone through. Tell me, O king. When you saw your son, was he wearing anything around his neck?”
Thranduil nods. “Elrond said it was a gift from him.”
I laugh mirthlessly. “Then you have been gravely misled. True, Elrond did give that collar to Legolas but not as a gift. It was used to bind him to Elrond, making leaving Rivendell impossible. That was a slave’s collar you saw him wearing. By the Valar, did you not give your son a chance to explain himself to you?”
Thranduil shakes his head in confusion. “I was angry. Enraged at what I saw...I tried to strangle him.”
“What?” I say, my voice suddenly sounding as sharp and deadly as my sword. Jared groans.
“I didn’t kill him.” The king says quickly. “Elrond pulled me off him.”
I grunt at the irony of the situation.
“And so you judged your son by what you saw and what that treacherous half-elf told you? Did you not trust Legolas to tell you the truth? Ai, you do not deserve to have such a son. You have no idea what he has sacrificed for you. If it was not for Legolas, you and all your kin would be in the thrall of Sauron! Legolas bargained with his life for Elrond’s help in saving Mirkwood. He sold himself into slavery for you and your kingdom. You cannot even begin to imagine what he has suffered. What pain, what indignities. All for you!”
Trhanduil falls silent for many moments. At last he turns to Jared. “Son, you have visited Legolas in Rivendell. Is what this elf says true?”
Jared nods sadly. “Alas, it is all too true, Ada. We did not tell you because Legolas did not wish you to feel shamed by him. I made a promise to him to keep it a secret but now I fear that it may have been wiser to tell you the truth. While Legolas had Glorfindel’s love and support, he was able to endure Elrond’s mastery over him. But now he is alone and after what has happened with you, I fear it may be more than he can bear. Father, we must free him. Legolas has done no wrong. What he did, he did out of love for you and this kingdom. Please…let us find a way to bring him home.”
There is silence as we await Thranduil’s response. Eventually, he raises his eyes to mine.
“Do you love him?” He asks.
“With all my heart.” I reply fervently. “If Legolas were free. I would bind myself to him forevermore if he would have me.”
Thranduils nods. “Then you have my promise. I will do everything in my power to obtain my son’s freedom. Trust to that, healer.”
“Thank you, my Lord.” I say, feeling relieved at the outcome of the discussion.
“And now, if you will both excuse me. I have travelled far and must take some rest. Tomorrow I will meet with my counsellors to discuss the best course of action. Rest assured, Glorfindel. You will see Legolas again.”
Jared and I leave the throne room talking excitedly. There is hope in sight. We will find a way to bring Legolas home!
As we pass the stables, I spy the messenger I sent out with my letter some time ago and I frown in disquiet. He has returned all too early to have gotten to Rivendell and back so I hail him.
“What news from Imladris?” I ask. “Did you deliver my letter safely to Legolas?”
The elf looks upset. “Alas, my lord. I was just coming to find you. My horse suffered an accident as I was crossing a wide river. We both very nearly drowned. All our baggage was washed away, including your letter. I am afraid Legolas never received it.”
Jared and I stare at each other in consternation. In the light of what transpired between Legolas and Thranduil, that letter would have been vital in keeping his spirits up and his hope alive. My beloved has had no news of me since I left the Dwarves cave. That was many weeks ago. He must think me dead by now. Valar, I have such a bad feeling…
“I must ride there immediately.” Jared says. “I must speak with Legolas and reassure him that Father has not forsaken him and that you are alive.” He calls a groom and orders him to ready his horse.
“I’m coming with you.” I tell him, grabbing a bridle and moving to Stormcloud.
“No. They will kill you.” Jared says.
“They will try.” I say grimly.
Soon we are riding fast out of Mirkwood. I only hope we can reach Legolas in time!
Chapter 50: Turmoil
LEGOLAS
I do not know how many days or even weeks have passed since that awful day in the garden when my father turned his back on me. Time has lost all meaning. Yes, the sun rises and sets periodically but I pay no mind to it. I have forsaken life, just as my father has forsaken me.
In the beginning I cried. I wept until there were no more tears left inside me. Then I slept. And when I awoke, I wept again. This was how my days continued until at last I could cry no more. I simply lay upon my bed, gazing at the painted trees and mountains on the walls of my room that reminded me of what I had lost. Never now will I see my beloved Mirkwood again. Never will I see my home or my family. Never again will I be free.
The only thing that keeps me from fading from this world is the small hope that Glorfindel is still alive. My father knew nothing of my beloved elf. But perhaps he had not met him before coming to see me? Perhaps even now my love is thinking of me? It is only this thought that prevents me from taking my own life. Valar knows, I have nothing left to live for.
Elrond comes to me daily and sits with me, stroking my hair and trying to coax me to eat a little of whatever delicacy he brings to tempt me with. But food no longer interests me. He tries filling my room with fresh flowers and opens the heavy drapes to invite the outside air into my dark chamber in an effort to persuade me to go outside. But I no longer take any joy in the world. I seek only to hide from it. I can tell that the Lord of Rivendell is at a loss on how to cheer me. Let him brood in vain. He is the one who has brought me to this. I care not.
Then one night he slips into my bed and attempts to coax me back to life by lavishing all the tenderness he can muster upon my body. For a long time he labours, stroking, caressing, kissing. Whispering gentle words into my ear, entreating me to respond. But my cock remains limp and lifeless. My body, motionless beneath him, refuses to react to his touches. My eyes stare disinterestedly at the star-painted ceiling. Finally, Elrond loses patience. Too aroused now to retire without sating his lust, he enters me roughly, thrusts into me an interminable amount of time and eventually climaxes. I continue to lie still as his breathing returns to normal, then abruptly, he rises and leaves, going to his own chamber. A while later, before I fall asleep, I hear muffled weeping. Let him weep. It is all too late for his tears.
ELROND
Elbereth! What have I done? I achieved what I set out to do. Legolas is mine. His family has forsaken him. His lover is gone. He has been disowned as a Prince of Mirkwood and forbidden to ever return. He has nobody else now but me. So why is it such a hollow victory?
Yes, I have Legolas. I possess that exquisite body that I desired from the moment I set eyes on him. But he has become but a ghost of himself. A lifeless doll that lies abed all day and responds to nothing. He has retreated inside himself to a place where I cannot reach him. This is not what I wanted.
I sigh as I remember the fire that once burned in Legolas’ eyes. The warmth in his smile on the rare occasions that it was turned in my direction. The flush of need in his cheeks when I touched him. All these things are now memories. Tonight when I tried to arouse him from his torpor, I saw none of that. Legolas’ skin was cold. His body limp and unresponsive. His eyes, fixed on the ceiling, were dull and glazed. There was no spark of life at all. My beautiful slave might as well have been already dead. Even when I slid my fingers down his all-too-visible ribs and clutched his flaccid cock in my hand was there no response. It was then that I knew. Legolas was going to die.
In despair, I sought to use passion to re-ignite the fires inside and I penetrated him roughly. Desperate for even a cry of pain to let me know that there was still a spark of awareness. But not a sound did he make. Even when I released inside of him. Legolas did not stir. In despair I dragged myself back to my room and wept for my broken slave.
Sleep eludes me. So I dress and walk the corridors of my great house. My wanderings take me from my room to the library, to the council chamber, to the balcony that overlooks the falls and back until I find myself once more standing at the door of Legolas’ room. A shaft of moonlight pierces the gloom and illuminates the slight figure curled up in the bed. He sleeps, his face turned towards the door and I see all too clearly the heartbreak and fatigue that has ravaged him in recent weeks. Dark shadows circle Legolas’ eyes, his lips are puffy and turned down in abject misery, the sculpted cheekbones cast shadows that make him look almost cadaverous, testifying to the fact that he is starving himself. My eyes fill with tears and I turn away, closing the door softly. In despair, I hasten to the garden and cast myself upon the ground in front of the statue of Elbereth, the very place where Thranduil found us. Laying my forehead against the cool earth I murmur; “Lady, what am I to do?”
The answer comes, not from the Lady, but from the deepest recesses of my mind.
//Let him go.//
//No!// My jealous, possessive heart cries in answer. //He is mine. Mine!//
The still, small voice speaks again. //Then he will die. You know this. Is this what you want?//
“I do not want him to die.” I murmur. “I want him to stay here. With me.”
//It is impossible. You know this. Perhaps even now it is too late.//
“Too late?”
//To save him. Let him go.//
“But then I will be alone.”
//Yes. But would you rather have his death on your hands?//
LEGOLAS
I wake from a troubled dream with terror in my heart. I dreamed of my beloved healer. I saw him calling to me from across a great expanse of water. I saw words, unreadable, drifting in the dark depths. The cool of the water invited me and I entered, trying to reach my love. The water deepened, but still Glorfindel reached towards me. But then the water closed over my head and the reeds held me down. The last thing that I saw was a pale arm, reaching down, pulling me towards the light. What does it mean? I feel a great foreboding in my heart and at last I sit up, shaking off the torpor of the previous weeks. I move to the window and gaze down. The river calls to me. There shall I find the answer.
As if still in a dream, I move through the house. It is still early. Dawn is only just breaking. Nobody accosts me as I make my way down to the water’s edge and walk along the banks, feeling that I am still in a dream. My gait is unsteady from lack of sustenance and continued inactivity. I feel light-headed and giddy but alive for the first time in weeks. I move upstream, not quite knowing what I am seeking until I find it.
It has rained much of late and the river is dangerously swollen and deep, carrying rocks, branches and other such debris from the myriad other rivers that are tributary to this one. Some even flow from the mountains that divide Mirkwood from Imladris. Ah….Mirkwood.
An outcrop of boulders shields a small pool from the ferocity of the main current. It is clogged with woodland detritus and I sit on the rocks and idly stir it with a booted foot. Then I frown as something catches my attention. Words in the water…
Sodden parchment, too soaked to be readable, floats in a swollen bundle. With trembling fingers, I scoop it out and drop it on the rock beside me. The sheaf of papers are glued together, almost pulp but something makes me pry each one apart revealing nothing but faded running ink. Each parchment quickly falls to pieces in my hands.
Except for one. Folded smaller than the rest, it is relatively intact. With a fingernail, I ease the two leaves apart and gasp in horror.
The ink has run. The words are illegible. But I still recognise the flowing script of my lover’s hand. Desperately I scan the pages, only managing to decipher the occasional word. My own name, Mirkwood, cave, love, see (?).
Then near the bottom, part of a line has survived enough to read. I moan in pain as I read it, realising what my dream meant.
“I am dying...”
So…is this a suicide note Glorfindel sent to me? He has taken his life by casting himself into the river?
I understand why he tried to let me know. I will join him. We will be together. No more pain.
Leaving the sodden parchment where I left it, I walk towards the nearest bridge.
ELROND
I wake with the dawn, groaning with pain at the stiffness from sleeping on the hard earth. When did I fall asleep? Ah yes. I remember now, going out here to try and find a solution to the problem with Legolas. Even now, as the answer stares me in the face, I still feel torn. I want Legolas, badly. My selfish heart seethes at the thought of letting him go free to be with Glorfindel. But if I keep him here, he will fade and die. Both roads are filled with pain. Is there no way I can avoid this?
But even as my befuddled brain wrestles with the problem, I catch sight of my slave standing on a bridge over the river. He is up and outdoors! Perhaps at last he has come out of his self-induced mourning? Perhaps now he will accept his place with me!
But even as I raise a hand to him in greeting, my heart leaps into my mouth. What is he doing? Why is he climbing up onto the low parapet of the bridge, spreading his arms as if he would take flight?
“LEGOLAS!!” I shout as he plunges headlong into the foaming waters below.
Without another moments thought, I dash towards the river, throwing off my heavy outer robe and dive in after the fair-haired elf. He is nowhere to be seen, the rushing waters must be pushing him down towards the bottom. I swim fast, trying to ride the current to find Legolas. There! A glimpse of flaxen hair as he passes a dark rock and suddenly disappears. He reappears a moment later, the current tossing his unresisting body about like a doll. With a tremendous effort, I strike out to reach him as he goes under. The weight of his body drags me down with him but I do not let go. In the murky depths, I clasp him to me and try to kick for the surface. But my velvet robes are pulling me down as is the weight of my slave’s body. My lungs are burning for air and my vision is darkening. I cannot save us both!
In despair, I release Legolas and he is carried from me as I fight desperately for the surface. It is too late. My last conscious thought is to the Lady Elbereth. Do not let my sacrifice have been in vain!
Chapter 51: Undertainty
ERESTOR
It is with great relief that I come at last in sight of Imladris once again. As we enter the valley by the river path, I can see the sun shining in the pale early morning upon the rooftops of Rivendell. I glance back at the sons of Elrond who are following behind. They look as pale and subdued as ever they have been since I rescued them from that brothel in Ithilien. But Elrohir at least manages a watery smile and turns to beckon his brother onward.
The two elves have changed considerably in demeanour since they last saw their home. They will not speak of their experiences as slaves to men but in the night, I hear Elladan cry out in anguish in his sleep while Elrohir strives to comfort him. By day, they seem chastened by what befell them and the twins stay close together, talking in hushed voices. I feared that they were permanently traumatised by the incident but was glad to see that, on the one occasion when we were beset by orcs on the way home, the sons of Elrond were as adept as ever with despatching the foul creatures, relishing the chance to engage in battle once more. After that, Elladan and Elrohir seemed more like their old selves…but without their previous spite and malice. Perhaps something has changed for the better. It remains to be seen. With a sigh of relief I guide my horse across the ford and make my way along the riverbank, delighting in the spring flowers that grow in such profusion by the waters edge. Primroses, bluebells, elanor, niphredil, early lavender and wild sage dot the grassy banks, drawing the eye to one patch of colour after another.
Which is how my attention was caught by the strangely misshapen form lying in the shallows formed by an inlet of the river which led onto a sandy bank. For a moment I thought that someone had discarded a bundle of clothing by the river. On closer inspection, I realised that someone as yet inhabited the clothes.
Calling to the sons of Elrond to halt, I dismounted my horse and hastened to the water’s edge. It was an elf, lying on his side, blonde hair plastered over his face, obscuring his features. But even before I moved the wet hair, the collar around the slender throat told me who this elf was…Legolas!
Horrified, I gasped the elf’s name, fearing him dead. But there was a pulse. Thready and faint but it was there. With an effort, I pulled the waterlogged elf from the embrace of the river, wondering how on earth this could have happened. Was it an accident? Or had the poor prince finally been unable to endure his lot here and attempted to take his own life? Why? I shook my head in disbelief as I carried Legolas to my horse.
“Sons of Elrond.” I said, addressing the twins. “Hasten to your father’s house and tell him what has happened here. Summon the healer also. We must work fast if we are to save the life of this elf.”
Elladan casts Legolas a stricken look and I see in his eyes regret for his previous misdeeds. They hasten along the river at full speed and I ride as fast as I dare without jarring Legolas too much. Soon after, I arrive at the healing house to find our new young healer waiting at the door. He steps aside to allow me to carry Legolas inside and together we strip the elf of his sodden clothes before wrapping him in warm dry blankets. I stand back and watch as the young elf checks the prince’s body for broken bones. Happily, there are none. Many bruises and abrasions and one nasty looking gash on Legolas’ right arm but other than that, he seems unhurt. However, the healer looks at me in distress.
“He seems relatively unscathed, my Lord Erestor. But I do not understand it. Legolas lies in deepest unconsciousness, as if he is reluctant to awaken. His pulse is weak and his breathing shallow. His skin feels cold. It feels as though the life of the Eldar is draining from him.”
I heave a heavy sigh as I hear these dread words. These are all the signs of a fading elf. An elf who no longer wants to live.
The young healer wrings his hands in dismay. “This is beyond my skill to heal, my lord. I know not what to do.”
“Keep him warm. Give him sips of water laced with honey and miruvor. I will find Lord Elrond and seek his counsel.” I tell him. “Stay with him. I will return shortly.”
Confound it all. Where is Elrond? I hurry to the door and almost bump into the twins who seem most reluctant to part company at all since their ordeal.
“Where is your father? He is needed here urgently.” I ask.
The twins shake their heads in unison. “We don’t know.” Says Elladan.
“We can’t find him.” Says Elrohir.
“He’s not in the house.” They chorus together.
“Very well then. Search everywhere. Elrond must be found.” I tell them.
They turn to leave. Elladan pauses. “Legolas…how is he?” he asks tentatively.
I shake my head. “It does not look good. He is fading. Which is why I must find your father. With Glorfindel gone, he is the only one here who may be able to save Legolas.”
Elladan hangs his head. “I wish…” he begins quietly. Then his brother calls to him and he shrugs off the thought. “Never mind.” He mutters, hastening off
Two hours pass and it becomes clear that Elrond is missing. I begin to wonder if his disappearance has some connection to Legolas ending up in the river. It seems more likely the more I think about it. Eventually, I order the soldiers to search along the river. Elrond must be found!
He is found. But in an even worse state than Legolas. The elf-lord was found entangled in the branches of a tree that dipped into the river. He is severely injured, limbs broken and twisted, pallid with blood-loss and close to death. By the Valar, what brought the two elves to this?
The healer sets to work to save Elrond’s life. Little can be done for Legolas so I simply keep vigil, holding the cold fingers, administering fluids and talking, trying to will the elf back to life. It is all I can do for him. Healing is not my skill. If only Glorfindel were here.
The twins remain at the side of their father, shaken at the possible prospect of losing him. Death seems to hover in the air, a palpable spectre hovering over the two elves. Which one will it take? One? Both? Neither? I cannot tell. All we can do is wait. One, grieviously hurt, struggles to live. While the other, relatively unscathed, seeks only to die. What can I do to save them?
Leaving Legolas’ bedside, I summon the captain of the guard. “Send emissaries to Mirkwood and Lothlorien. Summon Glorfindel and Arwen. Let us hope we are not too late.”
The captain obeys and I watch as, a few minutes later, two companies of elves leave Rivendell, heading in separate directions. I only hope that they will arrive in time.
GLORFINDEL
I wake suddenly in the night. Startled out of my dreams as if somebody had called my name. It is dark, the moon obscured by passing clouds. The mountains lie behind us now, for we rode tirelessly through the passes, intent upon our mission. The fire has died to mere glowing embers which barely light the sleeping form of my companion, Jared as he slumbers. If somebody had called out, he would have awoken too. I stare around myself in bewilderment, disorientated from sleep. I feel a strange sense of foreboding, like a shadow across my heart. Without further thought, I sit up, whispering the name of my beloved to the night. “Legolas.”
Something has happened. Something bad. I do not know how I know this but I would stake my life upon it. Legolas needs me urgently. Quickly I get up and begin to make the horses ready. Jared stirs and blinks at me sleepily. “Glorfindel, what is it? Why such haste? It is not yet dawn.”
“I know that, my friend. But something disturbed my dreams. I feel that we must make for Rivendell as fast as we can. Legolas needs us.”
Jared stares at me, his face pale with apprehension. “What have you seen?” He asks me.
“I do not know. It is a feeling I have. Something dire has happened. We must hurry.”
Without further question, Jared gathers his things and readies his horse. Within minutes we are making all speed through the forest. We must reach Rivendell before it is too late!
Chapter 52: Introspection
LEGOLAS
I feel as if I am floating in a veil of darkness. Dimly, I hear voices. Distant, meaningless. I know what they are saying but it seems little more than mere overheard conversation of strangers. It means nothing to me. I can hear my name being called. But I do not respond. I want to stay here, away from the pain and the sadness I know will engulf me if I return. Here I can feel nothing and for now, that is enough.
ERESTOR
Legolas’ strength is failing. Although not badly hurt, he lies in a deep state of unconsciousness. His pulse grows weaker by the hour and his pallor increasingly pales. By now, the Mirkwood prince’s face is so pale I can see the blue threads of veins below the skin. His lips have lost their ripe shade, paling to a death-like purple. Deep shadows surround his eyes, giving him a sunken, skull-like appearance. My heart is gripped with fear and I pray fervently to the Valar that Legolas will survive.
If only Glorfindel were here! I have the strongest feeling that that he is the only one who can pull the prince back from the brink of death. It has been three days since I sent for him, and as yet, he has not arrived. Not that I am foolish enough to believe that he could get here so quickly. It is many days journey to Mirkwood and even the fastest horse could not bring him here soon enough. All there is left is to pray for a miracle. A miracle that I fear will not occur.
“He is coming, Legolas. Glorfindel is coming. Please hold on for him. If you die, you will break his heart and I will have lost two good friends to the folly of Elrond.”
I glance over at the Lord of Rivendell who lies pale and still in his bed. His body is bandaged in many places, the broken bones set. The wounds gradually healing. He too has been unconscious most of the time. Now and then, he groans and murmurs in his sleep. He calls for his daughter and sons. For Legolas and even once, he called for Duirlin, his beloved elf who sacrificed his life to save Elrond on the plains of Dagorlad at the battle of the Last Alliance.
Duirlin. That name takes me back to that fateful day when we overthrew Sauron. Many elven lives were lost that day. Many lovers sundered from this world. Among them was Duirlin, Elrond’s lover. I still remember the luminous beauty of the blonde, blue-eyed elf. Elrond and he loved each other beyond reason and had done for many centuries. That day, Duirlin threw himself on a spear which was being levelled at Elrond, giving up his life to save the one he loved. I think a part of Elrond also died that day. I still can see the dark-haired elf-lord, on his knees cradling his lover as the battle raged around them. I saw Duirlin speak his last words to his beloved. Elrond kissed him one last time and then the blonde elf died. Elrond uttered a terrible howl the like of which I hope never to hear again, and then he rose up and carved a bloody swathe through the ranks of the enemy until he was drenched in black blood and utterly exhausted. Moments later, Sauron was vanguished. But at great cost. Gil-galad, our great king was dead, as was Elendil, the king of men. Elrond led Isildur, Elendil’s heir into the heart of Mount Doom with the one ring, exhorting the new king to destroy it. But the minds of men are weak and he took the ring to himself. Shortly after, Isildur was killed in an ambush and the ring lost. No more has been heard of it since. Elrond returned to Rivendell and lived in seclusion for many hundreds of years until one day, Galadriel and Celeborn came to visit, bringing with them their fair daughter Celebrian. They hoped that a marriage between the two would unite Imladris and Lothlorien. Also, Galadriel hoped that Celebrian would help to heal the elf-lord’s torn heart.
For a time it seemed to have worked. She bore him children, Arwen and the twins. Then, while journeying to Lothlorien to visit her parents, Celebrian’s escort was attacked by Orcs. She was carried off and violated terribly before being rescued. But the damage was done. Even her children were not enough to give her solace and she took ship to the blessed lands, leaving Elrond alone once again.
Losing his wife killed the last warmth in Elrond’s soul. He became remote and cold. When he did take a lover, it was merely to satisfy a physical need. The Lord of Rivendell was and still is a starkly handsome elf and had no shortage of partners in his bed. But always, his coldness and brutality ended up driving them away. He took a delight in dominating them, causing pain gave him pleasure. Even Glorfindel suffered for him until the healer outlived his usefulness to Elrond and was cast aside like all those before him. Poor Glorfindel, despite Elrond’s cruelty, the healer remained in love with him for a long time. Until Legolas arrived. It was only then, that Glorfindel saw Elrond’s cruelty for what it really was when it was visited upon the innocent prince. The healer’s compassion for Legolas soon turned to love. A love that was reciprocated by the elven prince.
But Elrond’s cruel possessiveness tore them asunder and now Legolas lies dying. A tear slips down my cheek and I glare at the unresponsive elf-lord. “May the Valar have mercy upon you for what you have done.”
ELROND
Where am I?
I glance around the woodland glade where I lie and try to remember how I got here. It comes back to me slowly, the river, Legolas…Legolas!!
I sit up quickly, then wish I hadn’t. I feel dizzy and nauseous. I groan and prop my elbows on my knees, bowing my head until the dizziness passes. It is then that I realise I am not alone here.
I raise my head to see another elf standing before me. I cannot make out his face because the sun is shining behind him, dazzling me. But then he crouches down in front of me and I gasp in disbelief.
“It cannot be…” I whisper, unable to believe my eyes. “Duirlin?”
My long-dead lover nods. “Yes, Elrond. It is I.”
“I cannot believe it. How can you be here?”
The beautiful elf gazes sadly at me and it is then that realization dawns.
“Am I dead? Is this why you are here?” I ask, still gazing incredulously at the elf that I loved with all my heart until he gave his life for me on the plains of Dagorlad.
“You are not dead, Elrond. You are in a place somewhere between life and death. The lady Elbereth has brought you here for a reason.” Duirlin says.
The lady Elbereth? I look round the clearing again. “Where is she?”
Duirlin shakes his head. “You will not see the lady. You are not worthy. That is why I am here. Elrond, melamin, you must listen to me.”
I’m not really listening. The initial shock has now worn off and I reach forward, wanting to touch the elf I still love. But Duirlin stands and moves out of my reach, leaving my outstretched hand hanging in the air.
“Do you know why you are here, Elrond?” He asks.
I shake my head. “Not really, no. But it is so good to see you again, to be with you. Come, let me kiss you. Let me hold you in my arms again. It has been an eternity of loneliness without you.”
Duirlin gazes at me impassively. “No.” He says softly.
His reply cuts me to the bone. “Why?” I ask, still gazing longingly at him.
Duirlin sighs heavily and seats himself on a rock. By the Valar! He is even more beautiful than I remember. I realise now that Legolas is not really like him at all. Duirlin’s blue eyes are the blue of the afternoon sky and not the deep azure of the Mirkwood Prince. My dead love’s hair is the shade of ripe corn rather than the pale flaxen tone of my slave’s hair. His features are more chiselled. How had I forgotten that cleft in Duirlin’s chin and the hawk-like aspect of his nose. His face is compelling where Legolas is merely beautiful in comparison. And his body! Duirlin’s shoulders are broader, his frame more solidly built. A distant memory of laying sated against that strong chest assails me with sudden clarity and the pain of loss sears me afresh. I had sought to replace my lover with a pale shadow. A beautiful and bewitching shadow, yes. But a shadow nonetheless.
My reverie is interrupted by Duirlin’s voice speaking sharply to me.
“Elrond, are you listening to me?” He frowns.
“I’m sorry…it’s just seeing you again is so wonderful, I cannot help but drink my fill of your beauty. My memory had blurred it but now that you stand before me I see clearly again. How beautiful you are my love. More beautiful than I remember.”
“Enough, Elrond!” Duirlin snaps. “You were not brought here to appraise me of my beauty. You were brought here to account for your actions. Tell me, what have you done to honour my memory?”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Why, I remember you with love and always mark the anniversary of your passing with prayers and offerings to the Valar that one day we may be reunited. Isn’t that what is expected, my love?”
Duirlin shakes his head. “Prayers and offerings are all very fine, Elrond. But they are not enough. It is by your words and deeds in everyday life that you are judged and let me tell you now, you have dishonoured my memory with your actions!”
I shake my head in denial. “I have always remembered you with the greatest of love, Duirlin. So much so that I have shut my heart to all others.”
“That is exactly the point! I died hundreds of years ago and you have refused to let go, hanging on to the ghost of a memory until your heart has become as cold and twisted as a warg’s claw! Instead, you cause pain and suffering where you should be giving love. Each and every lover you have taken has been used and discarded regardless of their feelings for you. You have lost all trace of compassion or mercy, only seeking to possess that which is not yours to have. You drove Celebrian from you. Broke the heart of Glorfindel and all those who came before him and now, because of you, Legolas is in danger of losing his life!”
“He’s not dead?” I ask incredulously. I had surely thought he had drowned. Thank the Valar!
Duirlin regards me coldly in a way that sends daggers of pain through my heart and I suddenly realise what it is to be rejected by one you love. How it hurts!
“By the grace of the Lady, he still lives. But who can say for how long? Elrond, if you do not mend your ways and right the wrongs you have done upon this elf he will surely die and there will be no hope of redemption for you. A soul as dark as yours would never find it’s way to Mandos’ halls. Do you know what this would mean?”
I stare at my beloved for a long moment as the full import of what he has just said strikes home.
“We could never be together again.” I murmur.
Duirlin nods. “Elrond…melamin…listen to me. With every injustice and hurt you cause, you lessen the chance of our being reunited. Don’t you see? You must honour my memory by passing on the love we once shared and using it for good. If you love me, you must let Legolas go free.”
I hang my head, unable to look Duirlin in the face. I have shamed him. Dishonoured his memory and the memory of our love, turning it into a dark and twisted thing. He is right. I must let the elven prince go. But I am so afraid…
“Then I will be alone.” I whisper, tears of self-pity coursing down my cheeks.
Duirlin crouches down beside me and takes my hands in his. Oh, to feel those hands once more…
“You will not be alone, melamin. So long as you carry my memory in your heart I will always be with you. Let the love we shared fill your heart once more and flow out to those around you. Your sons need to be guided by your actions. Thus far they have only seen the example of coldness and possession. You must instruct them otherwise so that in your stead, they will be benevolent in their actions. Look to your daughter, Arwen. She is both wise and loving, like her mother. Let her help you to find your way again. Lean on her until you can once again be the elf you once were. There is still hope for you, Elrond my love. Still hope for us.”
I rise to my feet, blinking back my tears. I do not want to leave this place. I do not want to leave Duirlin. But I know I must in order to make things right.
Duirlin smiles at me and caresses my cheek with slender fingers. I turn my head and kiss the palm of his hand, intoxicated by the feel of his skin against my lips once more.
“Goodbye, my love.” He whispers.
Blackness descends. I am swimming in a sea of pain. So much pain! My body feels badly broken. What if I die before telling Legolas how I have wronged him? I must fight to live. I must!
GLORFINDEL
I ride through the night, pushing Stormcloud as fast as I dare. All the time fighting the feeling that time is against me. Jared rides alongside me, his presence a comfort, lightening the despair of my heart. We speak little, both of us intent on our mission. Neither of us dares to speak of what may happen if we are not in time. But I know, that if Legolas dies, I will not survive. I would sooner fade and follow him to Mandos’ halls than live out the rest of my life without him. Death would be a mercy for me.
I am jolted out of my reverie as Stormcloud suddenly stumbles and slows. The horse is limping, whinnying in pain. Abruptly our flight is stopped and we dismount to tend to the injured horse. Something sharp, a stone perhaps, has pierced the soft part of Stormcloud’s left front hoof. It will heal in a day or two if it is kept clean. But there is no way that we can continue our journey tonight. The horse must rest, whether we like it or not. Despair settles round my heart and I fight back the tears. In my heart, I know that Legolas is dying. I can sense it. Now I will never reach him in time!
“Take my horse.” Jared says. “He will bear you swiftly enough. I will tend to Stormcloud and follow on when his hoof is healed enough.”
This is a huge sacrifice for Jared. He loves his young brother deeply and knows he may not see him again. But is allowing me to journey on in his stead. This elf is truly a prince!
“Are you sure about this, Jared?” I ask, as I mount his horse. Jared nods. “You are a gifted healer, Glorfindel. If anyone can help Legolas, you can. You are also his love, his other half. Without you, he will die. Go to him now. Give him my love. Tell him I will see him soon.”
Tears shine in Jared’s eyes and I know he is only saying these words to give me the courage to leave. I reach down and embrace the brother of my beloved one.
“Thank you for this.” I say, my voice breaking with emotion.
Jared returns my embrace. “Go now. Ride swiftly.”
With one last backward glance. I turn my horse towards Imladris and ride swiftly away. Please, Valar, let me be in time!
Chapter 53: Interjection
GLORFINDEL
The sun has risen and still I ride on relentlessly, pushing Jared’s borrowed horse to its limit. Sensing my anxiety, the animal bravely races onwards, sweat bathing its flanks and mane. Briefly, I pause by a stream to let the horse rest and drink and it is there that the emissaries from Rivendell come upon me. Mindful that my life was forfeit when I left Imladris, I draw my sword and prepare for battle. But the leading elf raises a hand in truce.
“Hold, Master Healer. Stay your hand. We come in peace.”
I sheath my sword but my hand remains on the hilt just in case. “Speak then, Gildor.” I say, recognizing a lieutenant of the Rivendell Guard. “What brings you here?”
“It is fortunate that we have found you so quickly, Glorfindel. We were journeying to Mirkwood in search of you. Lord Erestor begs that you come as quickly as possible. Legolas has great need of you.”
Somehow I had already known this, but hearing it from Gildor’s lips confirms the dread I felt in my heart. And why has Erestor sent for me? What of Elrond?
Without further delay, I mount my horse. “We must make haste then.” I say. “Gildor, you will tell me everything on the way.”
ERESTOR
His life is almost spent. There is nothing we can do to keep Legolas from dying. Every charm and potion has been used to try to hold the elven prince to this world a while longer. Just long enough for Glorfindel to reach his side. Alas, I fear it will be too late. Legolas will die before his lover ever returns and there is nothing I can do. A tear trickles down my cheek and splashes on the hand of the young elf. He does not stir.
All is not well with Elrond either. His wounds are healing slowly but the Lord of Imladris has developed a fever. The ancient elf thrashes and moans, his skin hot as a furnace. Potions and cool cloths have done little to combat the fire that is threatening to consume him and Figwit, the young healer is almost beside himself. He had not yet completed his training when Glorfindel left and does not have half the skill and knowledge of his predecessor. He feels the responsibility keenly and to his credit, has not left the healing house since his patients arrived. Now and then, he crosses the room to stand over Legolas, wringing his hands and gazing at the dying elf in anguish. But he can do no more than the rest of us can. All we can do is wait and hope.
LEGOLAS
I feel my death coming. Only a slender thread holds me still to the world of the living. Soon even this too will break, like a delicate cobweb caught by the morning breeze and I will float free. The voices of the living have faded away. I am alone, drifting in velvet darkness. Waiting…
“It is not his time.”
What? Who uttered those words?
“Then why is he here? He has given up his life of his own free will. His time has indeed come.”
I listen intently. Who is it that speaks? If only I could see.
“He does not know the truth. Fate has misled him to believe that there is nothing left in life for him. You know that is not true. You cannot take him.”
“And yet here he stands on my threshold. It is what he wants. Why should I refuse him?”
“Because his fate is bound to that of Middle Earth. I have seen his future and dying is not a part of it. He must be returned to the land of the living. Legolas must fulfill his destiny.”
I listen to this conversation in growing confusion. Who are these beings and what do they mean by destiny? How have I been misled? Why must I return? I don’t want to return. I only want to be with Glorfindel.
“My lord Mandos. You must relinquish your hold on him. Let him return.”
As you wish, my Lady.” The voice replies, sounding weary of this debate.
Mandos! Lord of the dead! So who is the lady he speaks with?
The lady’s voice echoes in my head as if reading my thoughts. “You should know dear Legolas. You have prayed to me often enough.”
Elbereth, Lady of light! It cannot be!
“Yes, sweet one. It is I. Know that I have watched your suffering and it has not gone unheeded. Listen to me now. The one you seek is not with those who are dead. Things are not always as clear as they appear to be. You must return to the world now. Live on and take heart. Your prayers will be answered soon. Return now with my blessing.”
For a moment, I am allowed a glimpse of the Lady and oh, she is beautiful beyond words. A shining star of the heavens. My heart fills with warmth and light and the realization that everything will be as it was meant to be. With this faith in my heart, I return.
ERESTOR
What time is it? Valar, I must have fallen asleep and remained here all night. The dawn is breaking, the rising sun sending tentative fingers of light into the room where I sit at the bedside of the elven prince. He is so still. Barely breathing. But he has not yet slipped away. Why, I do not know. I have seen elves fade and die before and it is never as drawn out as this. It is as if he is holding on. Waiting for something.
“He is coming, Legolas.” I whisper, gripping the elf’s limp hand. “Hold to that thought. Glorfindel is coming.”
From the other side of the room, Elrond moans in his fevered sleep. I had ordered Figwit to bed, promising to keep vigil over the two, afraid that our healer, however inexperienced, would sicken himself and we would be left with none. I stand over the elf-lord’s bed, looking down at him. Elrond rambles and raves in his slumber, his brow slick with sweat. Gently, I reach down to push a dark lock of hair from across his face and I jump as his eyes suddenly fly open and he stares at me wildly. His hand grips my wrist with the strength born of delirium and he struggles to speak, his voice a parched croak. “Legolas. Must…speak…with him.”
“He is beyond your reach, my lord. He will not hear you, or any of us. I fear it is too late for you to beg his forgiveness if that is what you intend.”
Elrond stares at me, struggling to speak. But the clarity is leaving his eyes. The sickness claiming him again and his eyes fall shut, his head sinking limply to the pillows once more.
For a long time, I gaze down at the Lord of Rivendell, deep in thought. The fever has made him frail. He would not put up much of a struggle. I pick up a pillow and bend over Elrond. It will not take long. The ancient elf’s tortured soul would be free to be with his lost love and Legolas would have his freedom. It feels like the right thing to do.
GLORFINDEL
Dawn is breaking as finally we reach Rivendell. I look at the familiar roofs lit aflame by the morning sun and I pray that I am not too late. Our horses slow to a grateful halt in the courtyard and I slide from the saddle and make all haste to the healing-house. My legs barely support me, fatigued as they are, their strength sapped by both tiredness and the fear in my heart. What will I find when I open the door? Am I in time?
“Legolas!” I cry as I stumble in the door, glancing wildly around in search of my beloved prince. I catch sight of Erestor standing by Elrond’s bed clutching a pillow, a strange look on his face as if he has been caught doing some grave misdeed. “Glorfindel!” He gasps, throwing the pillow aside. “Thank the Valar!”
“Where is he?” I shout, looking around. Only one other bed is occupied by an elf who looks already dead. Then my breath catches as I see the collar round his neck and I realise that I have found my beloved one.
“Oh my love. My prince…melamin…what have they done to you?” I moan, sinking into the chair at Legolas’ bedside. He looks a breath away from death. His hair (why so short?) lank and lifeless, cheeks drawn and pale as snow. Hardly a flicker from his eyelids as I gently pull them upwards to look into his eyes, my centuries of experience as a healer taking over. His pupils dilate at the sudden intrusion of light and that is good. I press a kiss to his slack colourless lips, willing my life essence into his lungs. For a long minute there is no response. Then I detect a quickening in his breath and a faint bloom of colour begins to show on his lips. I reach for some miruvor and pour a few drops of the strong elvish spirit into his mouth. Legolas’ breathing hitches and he coughs weakly. Then his eyes flicker open and focus on me. My prince gazes at me with love and tears spill down my cheeks as he whispers;
“They told me…you would…come. My love…”
“Hush, melamin. Save your strength. You are so very weak, love. When you are stronger we will speak all you want. But for now, rest and know that I am here. I will never leave your side again as long as I live. I promise you that.”
Legolas smiles at me and his eyes move to take in the minor commotion going on behind us as Erestor delightedly drags young Figwit into the room.
“You are awake, my prince.” The young healer gasps. “Thank the Valar! My Lord Glorfindel…”
I smile at my young apprentice. “It is good to see you too, Figwit.” I reply.
“We were in despair, My Lord. We thought Legolas would die. I cannot believe that he has awoken. Tell me please, what elixir did you give him that I overlooked?”
“I gave him nothing but my love.” I say, meeting Legolas’ gaze. My beloved is fighting to stay conscious, his eyes sliding shut only to open them again with an effort to gaze upon me as if he cannot believe I am really here. “Sleep, my love.” I tell him.
“Soon.” Legolas whispers. “Just want…to look at…you…more first.”
I kiss Legolas’ hand fervently, returning his hungry gaze. Valar, I have missed him so. Only now do I feel once again complete now that I am at his side.
“My Lord.” Figwit interrupts. “Lord Elrond suffers with a dangerous fever. His wounds are healing but I fear he will succumb to it if something is not done. I have tried everything. Will you help him?”
My gaze hardens as I glance across the room to where Elrond tosses and turns in his fevered sleep.
“I will not.” I growl. “He is the reason Legolas almost died, and not for the first time either. He is the cause of all the pain and anguish this poor elf has suffered. Besides, if he dies, Legolas will have his freedom. Why then should I help Elrond?”
Legolas’ hand squeezes mine faintly and I break off my tirade to look at him. He gazes at me with love.
“Because…you are…a healer. It is your…calling…to help those…who have need…of help. Regardless of who…they…are. Did you not…take…an oath?”
I look away from those reproachful blue eyes. Yes, I took an oath. The healer’s oath, to help all who are in need of healing regardless of who they are or what their deeds have been. He is right. I must help Elrond whether I like it or not. Still it does not sit well with me.
“But Legolas. You are still his slave. If he dies, you will be free. We will be free.”
“But with his…death…on our…consciences. I cannot live…like that…my love. Help him. Trust in me…it will be…alright. She…told me.”
I shush Legolas once more. Speaking so is draining his strength. I cannot argue with him.
“Alright then, dear prince. I will do as you ask. Rest now. Grow strong for me. I will see to Elrond and then I will return to you. Sleep now, melamin.”
I bestow a kiss upon his brow and watch as he quickly falls asleep. Then I leave to converse with Figwit on how best to break Elrond’s fever.
Chapter 54: Many Meetings
GLORFINDEL
It does not take long for me to stabilise Lord Elrond’s condition. Young Figwit had overlooked a method I had shown him of combining two apparantly weak elixirs to make a stronger one. Gently, I remind him that one herb often acts as a catalyst to another, thus strengthening its healing properties.
“Thank you, Master Glorfindel.” The young healer replies. “It is good that you have returned. Perhaps now I can continue my training under you?”
I shake my head. “I do not intend to be here long enough to do that. But I will send for Mithrandir. If I cannot continue training you, perhaps he will.”
“Gandalf?” Figwit looks awed at the prospect of training under the Grey Wizard.
“Indeed. Now, if you have no more need of me, I would like to return to attending to Legolas. You may see to Elrond’s needs yourself. The danger is past and he will recover in time. Just see that he rests.”
I cast a disdainful glance at the elf-lord who now sleeps peacefully. So well might he rest. I intend to see that he atones for his crimes against my beloved. I care not for any past indiscretions against myself. That is ancient history. All I care about now is Legolas.
I sit down at my prince’s bedside and smile fondly upon his sleeping face. He is looking better already. Colour is returning to his cheeks and lips but he is still painfully thin. When Legolas’ appetite returns, I intend to stuff him full of his favourite foods until he is once again healthy. Gently, I reach out and finger the silken hair, which is growing back slowly. Upon my arrival, I had forgotten that Elrond had cut Legolas’ hair in anger after he found us in bed together. All the time we had been apart I had envisioned my love with his hair still long. But now I remember he had been bereft of his silken locks when he freed me from my cell and helped me to escape from Rivendell. We have much to catch up on. Much to talk about. But for now, it is enough for me to watch Legolas sleep.
ERESTOR
I return to the healing house to find all is peaceful. Legolas sleeps a sleep of recovery with his beloved healer by his side. Figwit hovers around Elrond who is also sleeping deeply, his fevered thrashings now stilled. I feel very uncomfortable at the thought of what I almost did and am glad now that I did not go through with it. Legolas is out of danger now that Glorfindel has returned. When Elrond recovers, we must all talk. Things cannot go on as they have been. I have stood by too long and said nothing. Things are going to change.
LEGOLAS
I waken to feel myself being picked up in strong arms and moved. For a moment, alarmed, I open my eyes, body tensing to struggle free. Then I see a pair of familiar green eyes and I relax knowing I am safe in the arms of my beloved healer.
“Where are you taking me, my love?” I enquire.
“To our room, melamin. Young Figwit has gallantly given up his quarters for us. The ones that were formerly mine. He thought we would like some privacy.”
I cannot help but smile and a shiver of anticipation runs through my frail body. Glorfindel feels it and tries hard to give me a stern look, the smile never leaving his face.
“Patience, my prince. You are yet too weak to engage in strenuous activities of any sort. As your healer, I am ordering you to rest until you are stronger.” He says.
“And what does my lover wish?” I ask softly. Glorfindel’s gaze softens and he presses a kiss to my lips as he lays me down on fresh sheets in the big bed we shared but once before. “As your lover, I wish to feel you inside me again. But not until you are able.”
I smile up at him. “Until then, my love, will you hold me?”
“But of course.” he replies.
Closing the door, Glorfindel slowly undresses, basking in the adoring gaze of his beloved elf. But then he slips on a loose sleeping shirt to cover his nakedness and chuckles as I begin to pout.
“My lover, you are spoiling the view.” I protest.
“Forgive me, my love. But I do not wish to torment you with my naked flesh. Better that we wait until you are stronger before casting all modesty aside.” Glorfindel says as he climbs into bed beside me and enfolds me in his arms.
With a sigh of contentment, I relax into my beloved’s embrace and quickly fall asleep again, knowing I am safe and loved.
GLORFINDEL
For a while I am content to simply watch my beloved prince sleep. Then at last, the weariness of worry and the journey to Rivendell overtakes me and I too succumb to slumber.
When I awaken, it is to the sound of a loud commotion coming from the outer room of the healing house. The sun shines in, indicating that it is late morning and we have slept all through the night. I sit bolt upright in the bed as I try to gather my wits, hearing voices raised in anger.
Legolas stirs beside me and utters a little murmur of protest as his sleep is disturbed. Then his eyes fly open and he stares towards the closed door, recognising one of the angry voices. “Jared?”
“Jared!” I gasp, springing from the bed and throwing on a loose robe before flinging the door wide upon the scene before me. Jared is indeed there, looming over Elrond’s bed with his sword drawn. Figwit sprawls across Elrond’s body, a short dagger in his hand, intent of defending his patient while Erestor hangs onto Jared’s arm, desperately trying to calm the enraged prince.
“Stand aside, healer.” Snarls Jared. “I have no wish to take your life. I only want his.”
“No. I will not.” Figwit replies staunchly.
“Jared! Your Highness, please. Calm down. This is not the time or place.” Erestor begs, desperate to prevent bloodshed.
“Where is my brother?” Jared bellows angrily.
“He is here.” I say quietly. “Lay down your sword, Jared. Come and see Legolas. We will deal with Elrond when he is well enough to face justice.”
Faced with my calm demeanour, the prince subsides and sheaths his weapon, muttering an apology to the two elves who flash a relieved glance my way. Jared moves towards the bedroom door but then turns as Elladan and Elrohir come rushing in, roused by the commotion. At the sight of the sons of Elrond, Jared utters a roar and draws his sword again. “Villianous knaves!” he yells. “Stand and face my wrath!”
The two brothers blanch as they realise they have been caught without their swords and flee. Jared plunges after them even as I shout for him to come back. Erestor shoots me a bewildered look and together we bolt after the prince, leaving Legolas in the care of a shaken Figwit.
It looks like there is going to be a bloodbath in the courtyard below. Even as I hasten down the steps, I catch sight of many guards hurrying in the direction of the shouting. Jared has cornered the twins who are cowering behind a tall statue but even as I watch, soldiers close in on the prince, weapons at the ready. “Stand down! Stand down! Cries Erestor desperately as he sees one zealous soldier stretch his bow taut, ready to send an arrow flying to its elven target.
Then suddenly, there is the clatter of hooves and a figure cloaked in grey comes flying up on a magnificent white stallion, skidding to a halt in the courtyard and scattering elves right and left.
“HOLD!” Gandalf bellows commandingly. Even Jared freezes at the imperious voice of the Grey Wizard. “Stay your hands all of you. What manner of lunacy is this?”
Jared lowers his sword and looks contrite. “Your pardon, Mithrandir. I let my temper get the better of me.” He turns and glares at the twins who have emerged sheepishly from their hiding place. “I will deal with you two and your villianous father later.”
“Stand aside.” Erestor commands the guards. They do so, albeit reluctantly, glaring suspiciously at the Prince of Mirkwood as he strides past them. “It is good to see you again, Glorfindel.” He says, embracing me. “How is my brother?”
“Come.” I say. “I will take you to him.”
We return to the healing house, followed by Erestor and Gandalf. Figwit glances fearfully at Jared as he enters but the prince passes him without making any further attempt at harming Elrond. We enter the inner room to find Legolas propped against the pillows looking gaunt and pale. Jared gasps in anguish as he sees how painfully thin and frail his brother has become and tears fall as both princes embrace.
“Dearest Jared.” Legolas says, his voice breaking with emotion. “How I have missed you.”
“Little brother. What have they done to you?” Jared sobs, holding the younger prince’s slender body as if he were made of glass.
“Do not weep, brother.” Legolas murmurs. “I am stronger than I look and the worst is past. With some rest and care I will soon be well again. Worry not, Jared.”
I move towards the door, deciding to let the brothers spend some time alone but both sets of blue eyes turn enquiringly in my direction. “Where are you going, beloved?” Legolas asks.
“I was going to give you and Jared some time alone.” I explain.
“Do not leave on my account, Glorfindel. We have shared much already in worrying about this one. Now let us share these moments of happiness also now that we are reunited with our beloved Legolas.” Jared says with a smile. “Come, sit. We have much to talk about.”
LEGOLAS
By the Valar! It is so good to have my beloved healer and brother both sitting on the bed one each side of me. I bask in their loving gazes, holding their hands as we talk. I cannot help but smile as Glorfindel relates the commotion that just occurred when Jared burst into the healing house looking for me and clapped eyes on Elrond. Then proceeded to pursue his terrified sons! How I wish I could have seen their faces! It feels wonderful to laugh and smile again. At the back of my mind there is still the matter of my captivity to consider. I still wear Elrond’s collar and thus am bound to him until he releases me. Also there is my Father’s anger. Does he still hate me? Am I still his son? Or am I exiled from Mirkwood forever?
I fall silent, listening to Glorfindel relate the story of his flight to Mirkwood. Some of it I already know of from the letter I received from the dwarves but I try to pay attention while these other worries swirl restlessly about in my mind. At length, Jared notices when he turns to ask me something and I do not respond. “I see something in your eyes, Legolas. You are not really with us. What is on your mind?”
“My father…Jared, he disowned me. He was so angry. What did he say to you of me?”
Jared squeezes my hand and leans over to kiss my brow. “Do not worry yourself on that point, little brother. You know what a temper Father has. Almost as bad as mine.” He winks at Glorfindel who chuckles. “Thranduil misread the situation. Glorfindel and I made him see sense. He knows now that what you did, you did to save the kingdom and he is grateful for it. You are still his son. Mirkwood is still your home. Be at peace, brother.”
My mind at rest, I yawn sleepily and smile at the two elves. “That is a weight off my mind. Now, I fear I will have to wait until later to listen to the rest of your tale. I am weary. Glorfindel, will you stay with me awhile?”
“Of course, my prince.” Glorfindel says with a smile.
When Jared leaves, Glorfindel once again slides off his robe and slips under the covers with me. I move close to him, sighing with pleasure as he gathers me into his arms. Already, I feel I am home.
GLORFINDEL
Three days later, Legolas and I have the healing house almost entirely to ourselves. Erestor decided it would be prudent to move Elrond to his own house as soon as possible to prevent any more altercations between the hot-headed Jared and the sons of Elrond. Only Jared shares our lodgings and he sleeps in the outer room, giving us as much time together as we require. Under my devoted care, Legolas grows stronger with each passing day. The colour has returned to his cheeks and he has put on some much-needed weight although he chides me if I try to press too much food upon him.
“Please, Glorfindel!” He laughs, pushing away the unfinished second bowl of soup which I have been trying to feed him. “If you keep stuffing me like this I will become the fattest elf in Middle Earth!”
“Ah, but then there would be so much more of you to love.” I chuckle, wiping his chin with a napkin.
Just then, there is a knock on the door and Jared looks in. “Legolas, you have a visitor. It is the Lady Arwen."
Legolas looks surprised but then nods, raising himself up on the pillows. “Bid her come in, brother.”
I cannot help but stare as the Evenstar enters the room. When last I saw the daughter of Elrond, she was still very much an elfling, not yet come to maturity. Now here she stands, radiantly beautiful. Legolas stares, awed by her beauty.
And yet she seems nervous. Clasping her hands together in front of her gown she glances at me, looking relieved at seeing a familiar face. “Glorfindel. It has been a long time. Are you well?”
“I am, Lady.” I reply courteously. “You have grown to womanhood while in Lothlorien. Was your stay pleasant?”
“It was.” Arwen replies. “But it appears that I have lingered too long. Perhaps if I had returned sooner…” her voice trails off and she turns to Legolas indicating the bed. “May I sit?” she asks.
“Of course.” Legolas replies with a nod.
LEGOLAS
Arwen seats herself on the edge of the bed and bows her head, but not before I see that her eyes are filled with sorrow and pain. This beautiful elf appears more her mother’s daughter. She lacks the calculating coldness of Elrond and his sons and I thank the Valar that there is at least one pure soul in this family of peredhel.
“I have come to apologise for the conduct of my family.” Arwen speaks softly. “My father and brothers have enslaved you and mistreated you and for that I beg your forgiveness. Had I been here rather than dallying in Lothlorien perhaps this would not have happened. I left Rivendell many years ago because I missed my mother. I sought solace in Galadriel, my grandmother, but did not realise the empty space I left in my father’s heart. Had I stayed and tried to comfort him more in the absence of his wife, maybe he would not have sought to ease his pain by causing pain to others. For this, I feel guilt on my part for what has happened to you. If there is anything I can do to make amends, please, only say the word and I will see it done.”
A tear trickles down Arwen’s cheek and, tenderly, I wipe it away. “Do not weep, Sister-elf. You have no need to feel guilt. I hold nothing against you. But there is one thing I need you to do.”
Arwen looks up. “Tell me.” She says.
I raise my hand to indicate the hated collar around my neck. “Only your father can remove this and release me. Please see that it is done.”
Arwen stands up. “Can you walk, prince?”
I stare at her for a moment then turn to my lover. “My robe.” I say, holding out a hand.
“I will wait outside.” Arwen says, moving to the door.
Glorfindel clucks like a mother hen as he helps me into my robe and a pair of outdoor shoes. “Are you sure you can walk, melamin?” He asks. “You are still very weak.”
“Give me your arm, my love. Let me lean on you.” I concede.
It is a slow procession that makes its way to Elrond’s house. Jared wants to come along but I decide it is better if he remains at the healing house. He does so, but reluctantly. Arwen leads the way, with Glorfindel supporting me. Soon we cross the bridge and enter the house. A house I had grown to hate during my time here. So many painful memories. I hope this is the last time I have to be here.
We make our way to Elrond’s room, which is warm and dimly lit. The Lord of Rivendell lies in his bed, looking weak and frail. His injuries are almost healed but, like me, he still needs bedrest. Figwit keeps vigil beside him. His sons are fortuitiously absent.
“Leave us.” Arwen commands as she enters the room. The young healer mutters something about going to see Mithrandir and hurriedly leaves.
“Father.” Arwen calls softly, rousing the elf-lord from his slumber.
Elrond opens his eyes and they widen a little as they rest upon me.
“Legolas.” He murmurs.
I do not speak, only regarding him with a level gaze.
“Father. The time has come. You must release Legolas.” Arwen says.
Elrond gazes at me. Untold emotions swirling in those smoky eyes. Then he nods, as if having made a decision.
“Come. Sit here.” He says, indicating the bed beside him.
Sliding my arm from Glorfindel’s, I slowly approach the bed and sit down on it, all too aware of the times I spent in this same bed beneath my master. As Elrond raises a weak hand to push my hair aside, I shudder and have to force myself not to pull away. My eyes fix on Glorfindel and suddenly I am transported back to the day this collar was first placed around my neck. When Elrond displayed me, naked and weeping to Glorfindel. I see the same memory mirrored in the eyes of my beloved and understanding passes between us. It was destiny that brought me here. To Glorfindel. Instead of feeling pain and anguish at the memory, my heart suddenly fills with the light of understanding. Had Elrond not enslaved me, my path would never have crossed with my beloved healer. It was as Galadriel had once said. All things happen for a reason. The bitterness in my heart melts somewhat and I suddenly feel lighter. Dimly, I am aware of Elrond chanting some arcane words. There is a click and suddenly the collar falls away, clattering to the floor.
With a sigh, I raise my hands to my neck and rub the tender flesh there. My neck feels so long! And I seem to have more freedom of movement. My shoulders feel lighter as if a great burden has been lifted. I do not know whether it is the collar or the sudden epihany I just had but I feel as if I could soar like a bird if I wanted to. I smile at Glorfindel who is fighting back tears of happiness. I am free!
“You are free to go, Legolas. Forgive me for having enslaved you. I have seen the error of my ways and I am ready to face whatever punishment you think is fitting for me.” Elrond says, his voice hoarse and weak.
“We will talk on that later. Now is not the time.” I say quietly. It is not yet time for me to leave Rivendell. I am too weak to travel and there is much to decide with regards to what is to become of Elrond and his sons. For now, I wish only to return to the healing house to celebrate my freedom with those I love. At last I am free! Bending down, I pick up the collar and examine it for a long moment before handing it to Arwen. “Have this destroyed. See that it is never used to enslave anyone else even again.”
The Evenstar takes the collar. “You have my word.” She says.
“Thank you, my Lady.” I say to Arwen as I leave.
Chapter 55: Reunion
LEGOLAS
I do not speak as Glorfindel and I make our way back to the healing house. I am too overcome with emotion to express my feelings in words just yet. Instead, I keep a tight hold of my beloved’s arm as he supports me. I still have a long way to go before I recover my full strength.
As soon as we enter, Jared hurries to my side. His eyes fly to my naked throat and he gasps in delight.
“You are free! YES!!” My brother utters a whoop of delight and sweeps me into his arms for a hug, which knocks the breath from my body. Glorfindel, ever the healer, immediately intervenes.
“My prince, please! You will tire Legolas out. He is weak as a kitten still. For pity’s sake put him down!”
Jared looks contrite, mutters an apology and sets me on my feet once again. But I cannot help giggling in delight and soon all three of us are laughing heartily.
A shadow falls across the door as Gandalf enters, looking harassed. This is not the first time the Grey Wizard has visited me here in the healing house. Since his arrival, he has busied himself offering healing advice to Figwit, keeping Jared and the twins apart and generally overseeing all the goings-on at Rivendell. When asked the purpose of his timely visit, the wizard simply puffed on his foul-smelling pipe and muttered enigmatically about wizards turning up ‘exactly when they are needed.’
“Gandalf!” Calls Jared, “Have you heard the news? Legolas is free.”
“Indeed I have, prince. My congratulations to you, young Greenleaf.” Gandalf nods at me but seems preoccupied.
“Come and sit down, Mithrandir.” Glorfindel offers. “I must get my patient back to bed before all this excitement overcomes him. Then I shall make us some tea.”
Gandalf shakes his head. “There is no time for that, I’m afraid. Actually, it was you I was coming to see, Jared. I have need of you. A report has come in that your father is on his way here at the head of the entire army of Mirkwood. It seems Thranduil has come to reclaim his son.”
“My father?” I gasp, filled with a mixture of fear and elation. My father has come for me. But how does he feel about me now? Do I still have his love? Glorfindel lays a reassuring hand on my shoulder and murmurs that it will be alright, that I must not fear my father. Glad of his words, I bring my hand to Glorfindel’s and squeeze it, gently brushing my cheek against his fingers.
Gandalf turns to my brother. “We must ride, Jared. The army is but a day’s march from here. We must head them off and let them know that Legolas is free otherwise I fear that there will be bloodshed between Sindar and Noldor and there has been enough kin-slaying in the history of the Eldar without creating more. Legolas, do you wish me to carry a message to Thranduil for you?”
“Yes. Tell him that I am well and that I am free. Send him my love and my loyalty.”
The wizard nods then turns to Glorfindel. “Take care of him, master healer. See that he rests.”
Jared shoulders his bow and quiver and buckles on his sword. “I will return soon little brother.” He promises.
“Jared please. I do not want any killing in my name. Tell Father that, please.”
“I will.” My brother says, placing a kiss on my brow. Then he hurries after Gandalf who is already on his way to the stables. A few minutes later, we hear the clattering of hooves on stone as they ride away. I slump into a chair, suddenly exhausted. Ever vigilant, Glorfindel notices and scoops me up in his arms. “Time to get you back to bed, melamin. You have had enough excitement for one day.”
I do not protest as Glorfindel undresses me and lowers me onto the bed. I yawn widely, finding the idea of sleep welcoming and sigh contentedly as my beloved healer tucks me in, making me feel like a young elfling again. “I will bring you some tea shortly. Rest now.” He says, with a smile.
But before Glorfindel returns, I have already fallen asleep.
GLORFINDEL
He sleeps peacefully, my beautiful prince. Sitting by his bed, I sip the tea I had made for him and watch his face, peaceful in slumber. It seems that having the collar removed has already lifted a great burden from his shoulders. Now that Legolas knows that he is free to leave, his recovery will be all the quicker. I know that he is eager to return to Mirkwood, to his family and his home. I will return with him, and make my home there also. There are too many bitter memories here in Rivendell and we will not be parted from each other again. I am sure that another healer will be welcome in the forest realm.
And what of Elrond? What is to become of him? I have tried to broach the subject with Legolas on occasion but he refrains from answering, pleading weariness. There are times when a shadow passes over his fair face and I know that my prince is thinking on this matter. There are many that would like to see the elf-lord severely punished, myself among them. But I think that Legolas, gentle soul that he is, will not be the sort to mete out brutality. We must all discuss this matter later and decide what is to be done. I gaze out the window and watch the sun setting, painting the sky in wondrous shades of red, pink, orange and gold. Soon, the sun sinks below the horizon and the first star appears in the heavens. Earendil, the voyager. I send a prayer, asking for a safe journey to Mirkwood when the time comes. The star seems to twinkle in reply and I smile, feeling that the Valar are looking upon us with favour.
Legolas stirs and opens his eyes sleepily. “Lover, it is getting late. Come to bed.” He murmurs.
“Just let me douse the fire and extinguish the lamps, my love. Then I will be with you.” I tell him as I get to my feet. Legolas blows me a kiss as I leave and I catch it, clutching it to my heart with a smile.
“Hurry back.” The prince calls after me.
LEGOLAS
I wait somewhat impatiently as Glorfindel potters about in the main room of the healing house. I feel well rested after my afternoon’s sleep. Having had the collar removed, I feel life quickening in my veins, a surge of energy as if I was a young sapling of the spring, feeling the sap rising within. I chuckle at this analogy and wonder vaguely if there was some spell in the collar to dampen my spirits, or was it simply my enslavement?
Which leads my thoughts to Elrond. What of the Elf-lord who enslaved me? Everyone is of the opinion that he must be punished and initially I felt the same. He had enslaved me, deprived me of my freedom and my family for two long years and visited all kinds of pain and depravity upon me. But when I saw how pale and frail he looked today, I was moved to pity. Elrond seemed older and smaller as he lay in his great bed. He hardly seemed to be the same forbidding master I had once served. He seemed diminished somehow. The light in his eyes dimmed. I must think long on this matter before coming to a decision.
But for now, I push those thoughts aside. I feel stronger than I have done in weeks and I am in the mood for love. Tonight is a night for celebrating and that is exactly what I intend to do!
GLORFINDEL
I gasp when I re-enter the bedroom and find my prince sprawled on the bed, as bold as brass and as naked as the day he was born, a huge erection quivering between his thighs and a wicked smile on his face. Stunned by his beauty, I can only stare.
Legolas chuckles at the look on my face. “I thought you were coming to bed?” he says.
“I, uh, yes I was, my love. I was just-“ I sputter, lost for words. “Melamin, are you sure? You are still recovering…”
“Please, Glorfindel.” Legolas interrupts. “As my healer, you have given me the best of care and I thank you for it. I feel strength returning to my body and I know that I will be well again soon. But I need a different kind of healing, my love. My heart and soul were both in so much pain while we were apart, and now that you have returned, I want us to be as one again. I need to feel you touch me. I long to feel you inside of me.”
“Legolas-“ I begin again, the healer in me trying to show restraint although I desperately want what Legolas wants too.
The prince drops his gaze momentarily and when he looks up again, I see that his beautiful blue eyes are filled with tears. “I need you, Glorfindel. Please.” He says softly, his voice trembling with emotion.
It is too much. I cannot deny my love what he needs. Legolas is right; he needs healing of the soul as well as the body. Swiftly, I remove my clothing and join him on the bed. Legolas sighs happily as I fall into his embrace and we lock our limbs round one another, mouths joining hungrily as the passion once again begins to flare between us. Each night since returning to Rivendell, I have lain with Legolas but have restrained myself from anything other than gentle kisses and touches for fear of weakening my lover. But now, Legolas’ ardent kisses crumble my will and I gladly surrender to him.
I moan with pleasure as the prince’s mouth fastens on my neck, sucking gently. His teeth graze my skin, causing me to shudder and press closer. Our fully erect members rub together and Legolas’ hands grip my hips, pulling me flush against him with strength that surprises me.
“Legolas!” I gasp. “Meleth-nin.” My hands slide over silken skin, fingers eager to touch every inch of my love’s pale flesh. I feel a pang, as my hands encounter his ribs, still all-too prominent but not as much so now. In time, Legolas’ body will return to the magnificence it once was. Moving higher, I encounter a mithril nipple ring and gently tug on it. Legolas lets his head fall back against the pillow, uttering a kittenish mewl. Enthralled, I watch as the prince shuts his eyes tight, white teeth biting on his lower lip, face contorted in ecstasy. How could I have forgotten what sensitive nipples my love possessed? Gently, I tug on the ring again, watching as Legolas’ eyes fly open and fix on me, azure blue, hazed with lust. “Glor’…need you in me.” He begs breathlessly.
“My love, are you sure? We have never...”
I think back to the first and only time we coupled before. That time, it was Legolas who penetrated me.
Legolas nods. “Please…need you…help me forget.” He whispers, blue eyes wide and pleading.
Of course. He wants me to erase all trace of Elrond’s ownership. This I will do with the greatest of pleasure. I will set Legolas free.
Gently, I lean down and kiss my beloved prince. “I will make you forget. I promise. Let me just fetch some oil.”
I leave the room briefly and return with a vial of oil. When I return, Legolas is still lying where I left him, but he seems to be twitching visibly, hands clenching in the sheets. “Hurry.” He begs, in a voice laced thick with longing and tension.
“Patience, my love.” I soothe, placing a kiss on his brow. “I must prepare you first. I will not enter you in haste and risk injuring you. Just a few moments longer.”
The prince nods, keeping his eyes fixed on me as I slicken my fingers with the oil and settle myself between his spread legs. My love’s eager cocks nods at me and I smile and place a kiss on the tip, my tongue swiping out to collect a pearly drop of his essence. Legolas moans and drops his head to the pillow once more so I bend to my task, not wanting to torture my love further. Valar knows he has suffered enough.
With careful touches, I ease my fingers into Legolas’ tight entrance one at a time, gently stretching the guardian muscle. The elf writhes on the bed, sweat beading on his passion-tensed body. The moonlight paints him silver, tiny droplets of moisture sparkling like diamonds. His hair looks as spun silver, eyes glowing sapphires as they gaze entreatingly at me. Never before have I seen a being so beautiful. The Valar have truly blessed me by bringing Legolas to me.
LEGOLAS
Elbereth! I thought knew torture when I was with Elrond. But Glorfindel possesses an unsurpassed skill of his own! But his torture is not malicious. He does not seek to make me suffer. It is my eagerness to have him inside me that makes me writhe and whimper with longing as his fingers carefully breach me. My cock quivers and leaks with anticipation. Surely I must be open enough by now?
“Meleth-nin. I can endure it no longer. Join with me now.” I moan. My beloved healer raises his head and smiles at me, green eyes sparkling like emeralds in the moonlight, his golden hair painted a shade paler by the night. He is so beautiful. The Valar have blessed me so.
“As you wish, my love.” Glorfindel says, moving to position himself between my legs. I shudder involuntarily as I feel the tip of his hard cock against the puckered ring of my entrance and I wrap my legs round my healer’s waist in readiness as he sinks into me slowly and surely.
“Oh Valar!” I cannot help cry out as the long slow slide of hard flesh into my body sends wave after wave of ecstasy rippling through me. With an effort, I force my eyes to stay open, keeping them fixed on Glorfindel. His expression must truly match mine as his mouth falls open and he utters a ragged sigh. My legs tighten round his waist as I urge him ever deeper until I feel the brush of his velvety sacs against my perineum. The moment spins out, neither of us willing to move, content to savour the feeling of utter closeness. Glorfindel brings his mouth to mine and we kiss long and languorously. Finally it becomes too much and we break off our kiss, both of us breathing heavily with the effort of staying still. “Must move.” Glorfindel whispers.
“Yes.” I affirm with a nod. I slacken the lock of my legs and allow the golden-haired healer a little leeway. Just enough for him to slide about half way out before pushing in again. He keeps the strokes slow and careful, not wanting to cause me any pain. But Valar, how frustrating. I need more!
“Glorfindel, love. Why do you seek to torture me so?” I gasp through gritted teeth.
The healer looks shocked and with consternation I feel him withdrawing completely. Quickly, I tighten my legs around him again, refusing to allow him to do so.
“My love, forgive me.” He sputters. “I did not mean to hurt you. I am sorry. I-“
He trails off as I begin to laugh. “Meleth-nin. I am not in pain. Quite the opposite in fact. But if you love me, I beseech you, throw your healer’s caution to the wind. Take me with the passion I know you are holding inside. I can feel your heat. Burn me, I beg you.”
Glorfindel studies my face, looking for the truth in my words.
“Please.” I urge.
“As you wish.” He assents, and with a growl of passion, he sheaths himself to the hilt in me once again. I throw my head back and cry out in delight as my lover takes me with hard, passionate thrusts. I raise my hips to meet him each time, revelling in the feel of his cock hitting my sweet spot over and over again. Yes, this what I have dreamed about for so long. To feel my beloved healer deep inside me, possessing my body as I possessed his. We fit together perfectly, like we were made for each other.
Glorfindel looks so beautiful, his golden hair moving in long sweeps as he moves, the moonlight glistening on his sweat-sheened skin, toned muscles rippling as he thrusts into me. I’m so close. So close. And then, oh Elbereth. In the heat of passion, my healer seizes my legs and rests one slim ankle on each of his shoulders, changing the angle so that his cock presses hard against my sweet spot. It is too much for me to endure but somehow, I manage to. “Glor! I gasp out, following it with babbled nonsense and irreverent mentions of various entities of the Valar. Then my healer’s large hand wraps around my quivering cock. Pumps it once, twice, and then I lose all coherence as I come, screaming so loudly that I am sure all of Rivendell can hear. Vaguely I am aware of Glorfindel crying out my name. Hot streams of my essence erupt onto my chest and stomach and simultaneously, I feel heat explode deep inside me. For long minutes afterwards I seem to float, basking in a golden glow, feeling a wonderful sense of well being. Glorfindel lays down beside me, gathering me into his arms and slowly, together, we drift back to reality.
Contented, I lie studying the face of my beloved, now calm and serene. Green eyes open and regard me sleepily. “My love. Are you alright?” He asks.
“I am better than alright, healer of my heart. But I fear that I have exhausted you.”
Glorfindel chuckles and leans over to kiss me. “You may have done so, my prince. But I assure you, it is only temporary. When morning comes, I shall be as vigorous as ever.”
“Well, there is something to look forward to.” I say with a wicked smile, cuddling up to my golden-haired love.
Glorfindel rolls his eyes comically. “Valar help me! This young prince is going to be the death of me!” He says to the ceiling, as if the Valar themselves were listening.
“No, my love. Never that. I intend to keep you around for a long time. Perhaps forever.” I assure him.
“Forever sounds fine, my beloved one. Now sleep. You need your rest.”
I yawn widely and giggle. “After what we just did, I’m inclined to agree. Sleep well, my love.”
“And you, my sweet prince.”
Chapter 56: Counsel
LEGOLAS
I am woken the next morning by the delicious feeling of skin sliding against skin. Turning my head, I open a sleepy eye and frown in confusion. I had expected to see the face of my lover looking back at me but the pillow is vacant. However, a wet, open-mouthed kiss against my stomach alerts me to the fact that Glorfindel is already awake and preoccupied. I smile as I glance down at the slow-moving mound beneath the covers and then gasp as the healer’s tongue dips into my navel. Hearing my gasp, Glorfindel leaves off tonguing me and appears from under the covers, his sleep-tousled golden hair in disarray round his sweet face.
“Good morning, my prince. I wondered how long it would take for my ministrations to wake you.” He says with a wicked smile.
“Obviously not too long meleth-nin. Does this mean you are finished?” I ask, trying to look as disappointed as possible.
Glorfindel simply raises himself up, kisses me gently and disappears beneath the covers again. Moments later I can feel his lips and tongue ghosting over the silken skin of my chest. Sighing with pleasure, I close my eyes and give myself up to the delicious sensations of my lover’s eager mouth and his soft hair brushing my skin.
I whimper as he tugs on my right nipple ring, just hard enough to send sweet darts of pleasure/pain to my groin. My shaft, already hard, jumps for joy and slaps hard against Glorfindel’s body. A soft chuckle emanates from under the sheets.
“A certain part of your anatomy seems eager for my attention, my love.” He comments playfully.
“Indeed, lover.” I gasp, gripping the headboard. “My whole being cries out for your touch.”
“Then I shall deprive you no longer.” He says, moving lower.
And then, oh sweet Elbereth, my lover takes my raging-hard cock in his velvet mouth and begins to suckle like a hungry new-born babe at a milk-filled breast. Steadily and relentlessly he works my erection until I am groaning with ecstasy, my fingers holding the carved headboard in a death-grip as I try to prevent myself from thrusting mindlessly into Glorfindel’s mouth. Soon it becomes too much to bear and I cry out as I spill myself down my lover’s throat.
Relaxing my grip, I let my arms and head flop back onto the pillow, head spinning from the intensity of my orgasm. Beneath the covers, Glorfindel is tenderly licking the last droplets of essence from my spent cock.
So it is quite startling when the door suddenly bangs open and my father bursts in, closely followed by my brother, both of them wielding swords.
“What’s going on? Legolas, my son, are you alright?” My father asks, staring wildly around the room. “I am quite well, Father, thank you.” I say primly, hoping that my father hasn’t noticed Glorfindel who has frozen beneath the covers. “It is good to see you again but please tell me what warrants the sudden intrusion into my bedroom?”
Thranduil looks affronted and puffs himself up in his usual kingly manner. “Do I need to make an appointment to see my son? Besides, I heard you scream as I was approaching the healing-house and I thought you were being assaulted. Did you have a nightmare?”
Behind Father, Jared is almost purple with suppressed laughter. He has spotted Glorfindel’s foot protruding from under the covers and has realised exactly why I screamed. I studiously avoid looking at him because I just know that I will burst out laughing if I do.
“Um, yes. A nightmare. That’s right. I have only just woken.” I tell my father.
Thranduil sheathes his sword and comes to the head of my bed to hug me. “My poor son. It is no wonder that you have bad dreams, being held prisoner in this accursed place by that depraved half-elf!
I am so sorry I misjudged you, Legolas. You sacrificed much to save the kingdom of Mirkwood. I am so proud of you. And when Jared and your healer-friend told me exactly what had happened, I mustered the entire army and brought them here to fight for your release. I tell you, had Jared not arrived and told me you had already been released, the paths of Rivendell would have ran red with blood.” He growls. “Come to think of it, where is that healer of yours, son? I want to thank him for his excellent care of you. Jared tells me he snatched you from the very jaws of death. I am glad to say you are looking well now. Though perhaps a little bit feverish? You feel hot and your cheeks are flushed. Your eyes too are quite bright. Are you sure you are not sickening for anything?”
“I am feeling quite well now, Father.” I reply. “As for Glorfindel, I am sure he is around here somewhere. In fact, I just know that he will be coming soon.”
A stifled snort issues from under the covers and I cough loudly to mask it. Thankfully, Jared had left the healing house just a few minutes ago, unable to contain himself any longer. Now, if only Father would just leave!
As if my prayers have been answered, Gandalf appears in the doorway. “Your Majesty.” The wizard says, addressing Father by his formal title. “Jared told me you had arrived. And in a timely fashion too. We have much to discuss. Why don’t you join me for some breakfast? I am sure Legolas could use a lie-in. Besides, he will need his strength today. A council has been convened. There we will discuss and decide what to do about Lord Elrond. He must atone for his behaviour.”
Thranduil mutters something unrepeatable about Elrond and makes for the door where Gandalf stands waiting. As he leaves, the Grey Wizard winks at me, a smile hiding behind his bushy beard and I realize that Glorfindel’s presence had not gone unnoticed by him. The door closes and I fall back onto the pillow with a sigh of relief.
“You can come out now.” I murmur to my lover who issues reappears, flushed and sweating.
“By Elbereth, I thought I was going to expire down there. It was stifling under those covers!” He gasps.
“Poor love. Although it serves you right. Your snorting almost gave the game away.” I reprimand him laughingly.
“Forgive me, lover. But I could not help it. Now, just what was that you said about my coming soon?”
With a grin, I push Glorfindel onto his back and begin to slide beneath the sheets. “Let me show you.”
**********************************************************************
It is later on that morning that I rejoin my father and brother at Rivendell’s council chamber. Gandalf, acting as mediator, has seated himself in the high seat. He motions for me to sit beside him and Glorfindel seats himself at my other side. Also present are Erestor and a sorrowful-looking Arwen. Three other seats are as yet empty. Elrond and his sons are yet to arrive. Nervously, I fidget with one of the short braids that Glorfindel worked into my hair. He felt it would help if I looked and felt princely. I have thought long and hard upon Elrond’s fate and, although I know that I suffered much at his hands, I still feel a measure of pity for him. I have not spoken to anyone of my decision as yet. Not even Glorfindel. Once or twice he asked if I had given any thought to the matter and I told him that I had but would say no more. He did not press the matter further, leaving me to my own thoughts as I wished.
An angry growl from my father heralds the arrival of Elrond and the twins. Jared whispers quietly to him and he subsides but continues to stare at the lord of Rivendell with hatred. Elrond, eyes downcast, takes his seat on the other side of Gandalf and his sons seat themselves beside him. The twins look pale and tired, as if they have not slept. As Elladan glances over at his sister, I notice that his eyes are reddened as if from weeping. Arwen gives him a sad smile and the young elf nods then turns to whisper to his twin who simply stares silently at the floor.
“Elves from near and far,” begins Gandalf, “We have come here today to discuss a grave matter. Lord Elrond, you have enslaved Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood and subsequently subjected him to gross mistreatment by both you and your sons. Do you dispute this accusation?”
“No, I do not.” Elrond says quietly. “The accusations are correct. I have wronged the young Prince greatly and I do not deny it. In recent weeks I have had much time to contemplate the errors I have made. I have spoken long with my daughter and sons and I am prepared to suffer whatever punishment is decided fitting.”
“And by the Valar you will!” Snarls my father, rising to his feet. “Gandalf, I demand his head in payment for what he has done!”
“Father!” I snap. “Be seated, please.”
Jared places a restraining hand on Father’s arm. “Sit down, Father. It is for Legolas to decide what must be done.”
Muttering quietly, Thranduil grudgingly resumes his seat, continuing to glare at Elrond as if he could set him afire with his gaze. I sigh wearily. I want this matter resolved and to be on my way home as soon as possible.
A rustling of garments detracts my gaze from Father and I turn my head to see Arwen rising to her feet. Clasping her hands, the beautiful elf-maiden addresses me formally. “Prince Legolas. May I speak?” She asks.
“Of course, Lady.” I reply.
“My Lords, I have not come to ask for mercy for my father’s and brother’s actions. As my sire has said, he is prepared to accept whatever punishment Prince Legolas thinks is fitting to his trangressions. This is only fair for he has wronged the Prince greatly and justice must be served. However, I wish for all gathered here to know that I feel I am partially responsible for what has happened here.”
There is a murmur of surprise at these words. How can Arwen hold herself responsible for my enslavement?
“I realise now that I tarried too long in Lothlorien.” She continues. “Since my Mother sought solace in the Undying Lands my father has been alone. She helped to ease the ache in his heart from losing another who died long ago. There is a grief there that has never healed. A grief my father has tried to assuage by whatever means possible. My brothers, in turn, have grown up without the loving, caring influence of a mother. I feel responsible for not being here to take on that role, dallying in Lothlorien while they grew wild and out of control. Prince Legolas, please forgive me. Had I been here, I would not have allowed your enslavement to occur. But I was not aware of it until Erestor summoned me.”
“There is nothing to forgive, my Lady.” I reply quietly. “How could you have known?”
Arwen nods graciously and continues, casting a glance at her twin brothers.
“My brothers have already paid the penalty for what they did to you. They suffered much at the hands of men in Osgiliath. Elrohir, in particular has never completely recovered from it. He suffers frequent nightmares and has retreated into himself, most times speaking only to his twin. He seeks to go to the west to be with his mother, and, because he would not be separated from his brother, Elladan will go with him although it grieves him to do so. Prince Legolas, my father is losing his sons because of the folly of his actions and I feel that this is greater punishment than anything you could contrive. Because it is a punishment of his own making. I leave the decision in your hands, your Highness.”
There is a long silence as Arwen takes her seat again. I look at Elrond, seeing the pain and weariness in his face. He has brought about all of this by his own hand and is now reaping what he sowed. In depriving me of my family, he is now being deprived of his. The Valar seem to have a stern sense of justice. Everyone is looking at me now and I realize that I am expected to speak.
Nervously, I give Glorfindel’s hand a squeeze. He gives me a loving glance as I stand to speak.
“It is true. I have suffered much at the hands of Lord Elrond. He bound me unfairly to a promise that I, as a prince, could not break. Because of that, he deprived me of the sight of my homeland and the love of my family for over two years. I have known pain and degradation at his hands. On more than one occasion have I come close to death. A death I might have succumbed to but for the gifted hands of Glorfindel here. But by your words, Lady Arwen, I believe that Lord Elrond’s suffering is only beginning. He is to lose his sons as he lost his wife and I know that will be more of a punishment than anything we here could decide upon.
I have no stomach for corporal punishment. Nor do I ask for Elrond’s life in payment. This is your punishment, Lord. You will remain here until the time of the Eldar in Middle Earth is ended. Only then will you leave for the blessed lands. You will make Rivendell a place of safety and hospitality for all who come here seeking succour or shelter without asking a price of them. And every day when you look to the west and yearn for your sons you will remember that it was by your own hand that you lost them. By my words, justice is served.”
There is a silence as I reclaim my seat. Arwen weeps silently. Tears wetting her cheeks. Elrond meets my eyes, his face a picture of sadness and I see that already he is grieving for the loss of his sons. He holds my gaze for a long minute and then inclines his head, acknowledging my words. He will suffer. But not at my hands. I now want only to leave this place. There is no more to be said.
My father however, has other ideas. He stares at me agog. “That’s it? That is all the recompense you ask of him, son? After what he has done to you? Surely you would ask more than that for your suffering?”
“Peace, Father.” I reply wearily. “Believe me, this is enough. Think how you missed me in my long absence. Now imagine being parted indefinitely from not one, but two sons. Wouldn’t you suffer too?”
Thranduil casts Elrond a contemptuous look and then, with a sigh, nods in agreement. “So be it.” He says.
“Then let that be the end of the matter.” Gandalf decrees, gathering his robes around him as he stands. “Let us disperse now. Elves of Mirkwood, you must prepare for your journey home. Elves of Imladris, I would speak with you all further in the house of Elrond.”
With that, it is over.
That evening, I am walking alone in the gardens one last time when I am approached by Erestor.
“You leave for Mirkwood tomorrow?” He asks, knowing that it is so.
“Yes. I am eager to see my home again. It has been too long.” I reply, looking towards the mountains in anticipation. Glorfindel is back at the healing house, packing all that we shall need while Jared tends to the horses. My father is speaking with Gandalf on various matters. The wizard is staying here to finish Figwit’s training in the healing arts and also, to ‘keep an eye on things’.
“I will miss your presence here, young Prince.” Says Erestor, sadly. “Even though you suffered much, you were a ray of light in our household. Rivendell will be a darker place when you are gone.”
I smile at the elf, surprised at his poetic words. Erestor has always been nothing if not down to earth.
“I will miss you too, friend. But take heart. Arwen is here now and I think she will light all Imladris with her beauty and love. I hope so, for Elrond’s sake.” I say with a sigh, looking towards the house.
Erestor looks surprised. “You feel pity for him? Even after all that you suffered?”
“Yes.” I say, turning to look at the older elf. “For he sought to take that which can only be given freely. The love of another. And it has only led to further loss for him. He will continue to live without the love he once knew. Fate, it seems, has had its way with him.
Which is why I cannot condemn Elrond completely. For had he not enslaved me here, I would never have found the other half of my soul. I love Glorfindel. He has been there for me during my darkest hours. Has seen me at my lowest ebb and has pulled me from the arms of Mandos himself. If all things happen for a reason, Erestor, then I was truly meant to come here. We were meant to be together and will be forevermore. I intend to bind my soul to his if he will have me.”
Erestor smiles broadly at this. “I know he will not refuse you, Legolas. You belong together and I wish you both much joy and a happy life. You both deserve it.”
Smiling, I embrace Erestor then bid him good evening, eagerly retracing my steps back to the healing house where the one I love is waiting.
ELROND
I can see him from my window, his bright hair a beacon in the fading twilight. My eyes follow the beautiful young elf, feasting on the sight of him as I know that this is the last time I will see Legolas. Fare thee well, sweet Prince. I hope that one day you can forgive me.
With a weary sigh, I turn away and seat myself by the fire as I think on the events of the day.
I had come to the council chamber, fully expecting a sentence of death or imprisonment, some kind of painful public punishment to be pronounced upon me. For surely I deserved nothing less. Instead, the beautiful prince showed me mercy. Although I wonder now if death would be more merciful. My sons are leaving for the havens in a few days, going to the blessed lands to join their mother and, I pray, find the peace that eludes them since their hellish sojourn in Osgliath. Once again I am to be left alone. My heart aches and I curse myself for my foolish, callous behaviour. I could have had Legolas love me. Instead, my cruelty turned him against me and he found solace in Glorfindel, who also once suffered as my plaything. It seems fitting then that they should be together. To love each other when I could not.
“Ah, Duirlin. What have I done?” I sigh softly, closing my eyes to try to recapture the vision of my dead love once more.
A hand tenderly brushes my cheek, startling me from my reverie. Arwen.
“Ada, are you alright?” she asks, blue eyes, so like her mother’s searching my face.
I stifle the urge to laugh cynically. How could I possibly be alright?
“I am tired, daughter. Where are my sons?” I ask.
“They are in their room, Ada. Preparing for the journey.” She says sadly.
I look into the eyes of my daughter and take her hand. “Forgive me, Arwen. I have not been a very good father to any of you. I neglected you as you grew to womanhood, instead, leaving the responsibility to your grandparents. The twins, I did not discipline enough, allowing them to run wild and to be ruled by their baser desires, just as I did myself. And now we are all paying the price. I am sorry, daughter. Truly sorry. My cruelty has torn this family apart.”
Arwen embraces me, her arms holding me tenderly as at last, I give way to tears, allowing all the pent-up emotion to spill forth. As I cry, she whispers comforting words, forgiveness, love, promising to take care of me. My dearest Evenstar. How could I have neglected you so?
At last my sobs quieten and Arwen gently kisses me. “Take heart, Ada. I know the coming days will be difficult but I will be here for you. Erestor has agreed to take over the administration and running of Rivendell while you convalesce. Gandalf is staying on to train Figwit and he also has promised to help all that he can. You must rest, take time out and relieve yourself of the burden of responsibility for a time. Open your heart, father. Too long has it been locked away. Do not be afraid to love and you will be loved in return.” She says earnestly.
“You are right, daughter. Come, will you do something for me?” I ask.
She nods and I rise from my chair, bidding her follow me.
We enter the room that once belonged to Legolas. She stares about, her gaze taking in the beautiful murals and, in contrast, the bars upon the window. I hang my head in shame, wondering now how I had dared to imprison the beautiful prince. There are too many painful memories in this room now. Quickly, I gather up the few personal belongings that remain. The music box that was given to him by Glorfindel, some clothing and a few books that he was fond of. A silver-backed hairbrush and comb and the chess set that I gave the prince as a gift.
“Please take these to Legolas. It is up to him to take or leave what he wants of them. Tomorrow, we will have this room redecorated.”
Casting one last look round the room, I leave, closing the door on the past.
LEGOLAS
At last the day has come. The day I have longed for in both my waking and dreaming hours. Finally I am leaving Rivendell. Packing my last few belongings, I look my last upon the room in the healing house where I shared many happy times with my love. Glorfindel is standing by the front door, issuing last minute instructions to Figwit who laughs and chides him good-humouredly. “Do not worry, Master healer. I have learned much at your hands and Mithrandir has promised he will remain until my training is complete. You have no need to worry. Rivendell will not be without a healer.”
“Are you sure?” Glorfindel asks anxiously, for even though he is eager to travel by my side, he is loath to leave Imladris in the care of an inexperienced healer.
“We could send a healer from Mirkwood if you had great need. Could we not, Legolas?” he asks.
“Of course we can, love.” I tell my golden-haired lover. “But you must give Figwit room to find his feet. Let him be. He is safe enough with Mithrandir.”
Glorfindel gives in. “Alright then. Valar be with you, Figwit. Farewell.”
We leave the young healer standing in the doorway of what is now his domain and head down to the stables. It is a bright fresh morning, full of promise and I inhale the air, giddy with excitement. I am going home!
Stormcloud greets me with a whinny, all saddled and ready. He too is eager to be on his way. As I stroke his nose and murmur to him, Glorfindel passes me a wrapped bundle. “I think you will need these.” He says with a smile. With a puzzled frown, I unwrap the cloth covering gasping with delight at what I find. “My weapons! You brought them back? I had no idea.”
The healer smiles. “Of course. You gave them to me when I had great need of them. But they belong with their rightful owner.”
I hug my lover and then sling the quiver over my shoulder, fastening the shoulder strap snugly across my chest. Dressed in the grey and green of Mirkwood, my weapons at my back and my horse waiting, I once again feel like the elven prince I once was before Elrond enslaved me. Eagerly, I mount my horse. “Come.” I call to my Father and brother as Glorfindel mounts his horse and follows me. “Let us go home.”
Many elves of Rivendell have turned out to see us leave. They wish us a safe journey and call farewell. One last time, I cast my gaze up to the house that belongs to Elrond and I catch sight of a lone figure standing on the balcony, the morning breeze teasing his dark locks. He does not wave but I feel the weight of his gaze upon me as I leave. Pausing, I raise a hand before passing through the gate, bidding farewell to the real prisoner of Imladris. Then I turn my steed towards Mirkwood and break into a gallop. Glorfindel spurs his horse, matching my pace and I laugh with pure exhilaration. I am going home to the land that I love. My sister and young brother wait and my lover is at my side. I am finally free!
THE END
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