MAY HE NEVER KNOW

by Grey Pigeon

DISCLAIMER: The Word of Middle-Earth and it's inhabitants belong to Master Tolkien. I just borrowed them yet again. This is aim of fiction, I earn no money from this.

SUMMARY: Legolas is reminiscing about one night of sweet oblivion. Regardless of who they are and what duties they hold, Legolas and Elrond dared to trust each other once – they succumbed to the folly, forbidden and beautiful freedom. Oneshot.

WARNING: Not very drastic AU. Precisely: I know that Legolas has never been to Lothorien before the Quest, but it was convenient that way. And we can assume things, but no one knows if Legolas has siblings or not – then, why wouldn't he?

What's more important, THIS IS SLASH, means male/male relationship, including intimate closeness. Please leave if this offends you in any way.

PAIRING: Legolas/Elrond

RATING: M

TIMELINE: I'm relieved to say that this time it's not that important. 'before the Quest' is enough.^^

FEEDBACK: Highly appreciated. Please write something constructive.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for my dearest friend and supporter, my favourite person in the whole world, as a birthday gift. May Valar bless you, Geale! It is a humble gift with sincere 'thank you' for everything.

Enjoy. *Bows*

Try to imagine: that night was just like this one.

It was summer, so the precious warmth enveloping us was generous. Thick veil of heat was scattering amidst the mighty trees of my homeland wood, but the air was still heavy with upcoming thunderstorm, promising to wash over flesh and grass, wet the horse's manes, cleanse tired thoughts, wake up the most refreshing scent of damp bark and revive the gracious wind, which would toss your hair and fling with the wide sleeves of your tunic.

In that night I was leading a fierce battle with my thoughts. As I yielded finally, heading to the door of his bedchamber, the first raindrops started to fall. I felt united with the dark sky above, reflecting so well my inner turmoil.

Try to understand, my friend.

I saw him only few times in my life. Being still just a young elf, compared to him, I am like a slender sapling near a mighty mallorn tree. I think this might and this beauty in him caught me. So proud and powerful, and yet so different than my own Father. His coal black hair and strict face stood in sharp contrast to my Ada's smile I was so used to, his brightly golden mane, so much like mine. Each time he was dressed richly, holding himself strictly upright, his eyes resting upon the one who spoke to him vigilantly and demandingly. I noticed that many preferred not to look him in the eye, so tough and so brave his glare was. Given that I was a child, he seemed not only dignified, but slightly scary.

Maybe it is just because I have never seen him cradle his son and sing to him quietly, as my Ada used to sing to me and my brothers.

Our first meeting left me overawed.

I hid from his eyes before they could reach me, purposely standing behind the wide stone pillar in my Father's Throne Hall. Using the opportunity, I stared unkindly; no one would pay attention to the youngster I was, for no one suspected that from all the delightful places in the woods, eerie clearings and streams or the royal stables I would choose to be in a Throne Hall, eavesdropping about the important guests of Imladris. My political education still was matter of small importance, I was just too small to understand, and it was really impossible to predict what will ever come of me. All I wanted to do was running through the woods with my first bow, like a savage, while my older brothers were much more responsible and highly interested in Ada's kingship. I observed with jealousy as the two were introduced to the Lord, I heard my Father's favorable tone and I was burning red. The great Lord's acknowledgment of my brothers was very polite, he laid his hands on their blond heads and whispered some endearments, for they both squirmed like kittens and were talking about this event for days afterwards.

All I was given was his name. A name I could match to this outstanding person who occupied my thoughts for some time.

Lord Elrond the Peredhel of Imladris.

I met him again much later. It was when he lost his wife.

I was surprised, and not pleasantly. He was even more straight than I remembered him, thinner, quieter. His skin grayish. His robes dark. His fingers slightly shaking. His stroll short and devoid of usual briskness. Pale mithril on his brow heavy and disturbing, glowing silently in darkness he was immersed deep within. We have left Imladris quickly after the absolutely necessary arrangements.

I listened to what royals were saying. I tried to imagine and comprehend what happened to this awesome, glowing Elrond I remembered. His eyes were like dead pools of misery, while my brothers spoke of sparks of delight in them, warm hands which touched them in a blessing and merry comparison to his own twin sons. I wanted to know, I was so purely… sorry for him.

And slightly disappointed, in a way.

Quickly after that meeting we traveled to Lothorien. I was enchanted by the Golden Wood and paid absolutely no heed to the army locations, upcoming harvests, actual Mirkwood policy and important news from other realms. I happily joined the patrols of the Marchwardens, who were glad of my company; they pampered me with stories, legends, names of unknown weapons, little sparring matches. They showed me safe ways of crossing the forest, secret traps laid for the unprepared intruders, art of climbing on the trees and using the branches for a quick run, clever ideas of hiding or tricking your opponent from above. I couldn't have been happier than with them; I treasured that hours with them as if they were stolen from my normal life and roamed the ethereal, golden woods, where everything seemed so big, so pure, so unreal, as if I strolled into a dream.

Then, close to midnight, I had to come back. I already knew Ada will be very angry with me, but that seemed a routine and didn't bother me that much. If someone missed me very dearly, he would have sent for me and force to behave. As nothing like such happened – I quietly came back to the royal talan we were lodged on in the middle of the night.

Preoccupied and overwhelmed I never saw the Imladris delegation, so I had no idea that Lord Elrond is here also. I ran into him by accident.

He stood in the corridor entwining around the huge mallorn trunk like a spiral. Fate wanted that it was that exact corridor which would lead me to the talan where I was supposed to lay for a sleep with the rest of my family. Not thinking much, I hid immediately behind the wooden carving decorating the stair's balustrade; I recognized the Lord and could not find enough courage to simply pass him.

He was leaning on the window sill, staring at the sight of Caras Galadhon. He listened with his eyes closed to the choir of Elven voices, floating around in a fluid caress of sound. Lothorien was always singing in the evenings and that night was no different.

I looked at him.

He was lost in thought. Totally unlike I would imagine, with a soft and somehow resigned gesture he slid to the sitting position. He let his head fall back to support itself on a polished wooden frame; his throat was revealed, it shone in pale moonlight with a perfect sculpture. His hands – wide, big, mighty hands – they lied on his lap defenselessly palms up, like fallen nests. His brow furrowed for a moment, only to straighten again. He was… vulnerable in this exposure.

His lips parted. Even if he didn't say a word, they moved, following every delicate word of the fluid, silvery song in breathless elegance. I wished him to open his eyes, his beautiful, grey eyes, and in the same time I wished that he wouldn't, for he could notice me; I prayed that he only stayed like this a while longer, allowing me to look at him, feast on the sight of him.

That time, I think, I made the decision. It was done long before the rainy night led me to his door.

I had to listen to him speaking. I had to hear his voice. I had to observe closer how he acts. What he likes and dislikes. How he walks. What he chooses for himself to eat when the table is fully served while dinner time. How he brushes his hair out of his eyes. I had to know more.

I observed him secretly. I had very little time, for Ada decided to leave in two days. I had to use all the time I had, every single moment. I refused to roam the forest, to the Marchwardens' sincere disappointment, but I could observe the council instead. I followed Elrond after it, heard him talk with his inferiors and his sons, not only royals. I found out how he handles his hair. I learned by heart all of his sighs, so often uttered. I fell for the way he moved, gracefully, slower than he used to, but indescribably smoothly, brushing the floor with his long, heavy robes.

And I didn't allow him to catch me with Ada, suddenly terrified that he will embarrass me again like he liked to. This, Lord Elrond, is my youngest son, still so naive… playing only with his bow and running around. He dislikes politics and frets more about the disappearing snow in Spring than takes interest in actual Mirkwood maneuvers…

In that moment I understood that would be only true. I really was no partner for a talk. And I knew so little. I was still a child, even if I started to feel first sparks of fire in my loins.

At home I continued research. I read every line in Mirkwood's library which told about the Lord of Imladris. I suddenly became interested in council meetings, asking Father if I may listen to them sometimes. He allowed me with a strange, yet pleased expression.

I held little love to books at the time, for they were always only describing; books couldn't make you touch the grass or feel the rain on your face. Yet they held wisdom I couldn't find in the forest, so I appreciated them very quickly. I figured out history is something Elrond highly appreciates, so I started revising. Literature came next and I have to admit it was more pleasant; yet I liked poetry the most. I couldn't force myself into every tome, though.

Each time I pulled a bow, rode a horse, exercised or ran through the forest I pictured in mind how will it change and develop my young body. Each time I sparred or fought, I tried to be as graceful and lethal as possible, to be only an inch closer to the ideal the Lord must have been himself. Elrond, who fought in great battles, led the army to war.

At night I imagined that it was his wide hand sliding down my chest instead of my own, I yearned for his soft lips on mine. I trashed in the bedsheets fruitlessly, feeling empty and raw, abandoned and sad like a large piece of ground full of fertile, black soil; maybe he still waited? Maybe it can be someone else to make him happy again, after life full of compassion and sacrifice? Maybe I could serve him, maybe I would gladden him, maybe something could grow on this ground…?

Can one fall in love from the first sight…? Is it possible, at all? Isn't it a folly?

It surely was, my friend. I knew I want him. But apart from this, I also knew that he had never seen me and he knows absolutely nothing about my existence.

I haven't seen him since that last time in Lorien. My Father closed the far wood from me, keeping me inside his palace and signing new duties, more suitable for a Prince of Greenwood. The only news I heard were occasional letters, polite answers, some far away gossips from the envoys or riders. I drank them all greedily like a man dying from thirst; the less frequent they were, the more gloom I was becoming.

I just… never expected such loneliness. Never expected it.

Please, try not to reject this folly of mine.

And then, all of sudden, news about his coming with the next delegation arrived and my world stirred alive again.

/*/

Nervously standing in front of the door, I was still hesitating. I straightened the simple outfit of a servant, borrowed today from the laundry room, and once again checked if I know what to say and how to behave. This little gambit may be as well my undoing, for a prince I was, I had little training in serving others. Suddenly I thought it was a vital point in a royal training which shouldn't be that easily avoided.

Holy Valar, What am I doing…? The thought ran through my head. I may be ruining everything… If he gets mad, if he orders me to walk out…

Such ponderings only brought white-hot pain ripping my heart out. I once more closed my eyes, trying to find reason. But my heart chose already, I knew I have to go inside, that I had come too far already… And I will regret the cowardice to the end of my life.

I knocked. Silent, deep voice called me to enter.

"Good evening, my Lord," I said, bowing. "I come to bring you some refreshments." I said the well rehearsed line, carefully balancing the tray with one hand.

I closed the wooden door and walked closer on somewhat wobbly legs. Putting the tray on the table the Lord seated himself at I dared a glance on a book in his hands; it was bound in red velvet, yet I couldn't see the title. Surely it wasn't one of Mirkwood Library, for I would recognize it effortlessly. How many of them have I read just for you, my Lord?

Gently taking off the cloth I showed a bowl of various fruits, sweet lemon cake and a bottle of finest wine. I saw that his teapot is empty. Arranging the amenities on the table, I avoided his curious look just yet, focusing on my task, for my hands were slightly shaking; I'm sure he didn't miss that. Finally I straightened and pressed the empty, silver tray to my hip. The gesture suddenly appeared too maiden-like for me, so I changed the pose. I was far too nervous even for myself, but it was too late.

"Thank you," Elrond sounded. "This is very kind. But I didn't ask for anything else beside some tea."

"You didn't have to, my Lord," I smiled delicately. Elrond nodded with amusement.

He was informally dressed, in a loose, but fine garments, unembroidered and simple – meant for late hours of night, when main purpose was comfort. He was barefoot, reclining in the wooden armchair and having his long, strong legs stretched before him. He was regarding me with sheer curiosity.

"Is the chamber to your liking, my Lord?" I asked, trying to come up with a question suitable for a mere servant. Elrond's eyebrow twitched at this obvious try to prolong the conversation.

"It is very comfortable." He said only. So no help from him, after all. He was forcing me to reveal my purpose. I should have known, he is millennia older, he wouldn't let a mere child have an upper hand on him. I nodded in acknowledgement and sighed very quietly, gathering all the courage left.

"Is there anything else you need, my Lord?" I asked, daring a glance in his beautiful, cloudy grey eyes.

He observed me a while longer than normally.

"I am just fine. I don't think I need anything." He said, still looking at me with this kindly curious expression tinged with a pinch of amusement. I felt my cheeks going a little red, suspecting that I should back off now tactfully and hide under the blanket in my room not to ever shake off the shame. Next question would undoubtedly be a disrespect, wouldn't it?... But I just couldn't…

"I should rephrase the question, I think," I said quietly, every ounce of common sense screaming at this recklessness, but my tongue worked on it's own, never listening. "Maybe you are in need of someone, my Lord?"

I bowed, not to look in his eyes. The silence befallen us, and he didn't move for a good while. I felt cold sweat on my forehead. I offended him. I did.

Finally, after what seemed an enormous long time, he stirred. He put the book away, straightened in his chair and spared me a long glance. I could almost feel his eyes sliding over my body in scrutiny.

"I really don't want to offend you, elfling," he turned to me in a low and calm voice, followed by a sad sigh. "But whomever ordered you to come here…"

"No one ordered me, my Lord!" I said quickly, before I could bite myself not to speak. When the realization came a second later, I thought I will faint. I have cut the Lord off. Almost shrinking, for what I have done surely deserved a rebuke, I bowed low again.

Elrond fell silent again.

"You came here out of your own, free will?" he asked. Relief washing over me was like a flood.

"Yes, my Lord," I answered meekly. After a while of silence, I added only: "I want to please you."

Elrond sighed again, obviously troubled. For some reason unknown to me he did not throw me out of his room, sharply scolding for interrupting his rest. He made a move as if he wanted to stand up, but abandoned the idea; sitting where he was, he just glared at me, catching my eye, looking over my body, freshly bathed and clothed in simple household linens. Maybe he found my looks pleasing? Maybe he was tempted…? I stated quite clearly, even if a little bluntly, what I was offering.

I took a breath in and rose my eyes. I saw his grey orbs staring directly in mine.

"I heard that there is an unspoken tradition among Woodelves for the King to take consorts… it is not that uncommon among the Noldor, too… but I cannot…" he said slowly, a hint of regret in his voice. He suddenly broke the eye contact, searching for anything to hold his interest on the table and surely selecting the most delicate words to send me away. I gasped, suddenly coming to realize he will remember me as a servant sent like a common whore to make his stay in Mirkwood more pleasurable. I knew what I dare, but I just couldn't let it go like that.

I knelt in front of him, shyly touching his knee with my hand. He stirred at this, turning his surprised eyes on me at such open gesture of supplication. I endured the stare this time.

"Mirkwood's night is our friend. She hides all and everyone who wishes to remain unrevealed. Merciful walls of this fortress are thick and don't let any sound to slip away unchecked. It is of no one's business whether a king or just a mere servant finds a shard of freedom in the world full of obligations. No one sent me. I am here for you, my Lord. Because I thought you may need it. There is nothing more to that."

"Why have you come…?" Elrond's voice was a whisper.

"I saw you… in the gardens, my Lord." I smiled. "You was walking through misty evening of our August forest and I thought… I knew… you are lonely."

He glanced at me with endless gratitude. As if working on it's own, his hand traveled to my head and tucked a strand of damp, golden hair behind my elegantly pointed ear; the hand stayed there for a moment, trembling delicately, hesitating. I thought I will go mad in no time. I imagined it gripping my hair and bending my neck backwards, so that he could reach and kiss me; a shiver wracked my whole body. I wanted him badly to do this.

He sighed, biting his lower lip in a very un-royal fashion. Something inside me burst alive with delight, for I knew he is fighting with himself and obviously losing. His face was painfully slowly inching closer to mine; his hand stabilized my head in a convenient position, not roughly, but surprisingly gently, yet it was enough for me as long as he was creeping closer. I saw he wants to say something. He was desperately searching for words, to assure me that everything will be fine maybe, or express how wrong is this what we were doing, but he found none. I tensed and with every fiber of my body prayed for him to close the distance between us in a kiss. He stopped just before our lips would meet and I thought I will die of need, swaying on my knees before him.

"I will… treasure your gift," he said, his hot breath on my face, his moving lips almost touching my parted ones. "Thank you."

Elrond gathered me in his arms then, pressing closely to his chest. He kissed me with fervor I never imagined he would possess, kingly and elegant as he appeared. I found it even a bit scary, to say the whole truth, but I didn't back off. He forced me to open my mouth wider, so that he could dive inside; his wide palms held onto me desperately, as if I was unreal and could disappear in any moment.

Abashedly I started to respond. Not exactly knowing what would please him I yielded completely, so that he could prompt me; my own hands, until now paralyzed, awoke and crept closer to his arms, resting there and circling the muscles, shyly probing the strong line of shoulder blades. He grunted in appreciation.

He kept kissing me like starved until I was completely out of breath and made a delicate effort of setting free from his embrace to catch some air. He let me and laid his head on my arm, sliding his hands possessively over my back. The exact knowledge of what are we doing finally hit me and I couldn't believe it; I gripped him harder to ascertain myself, similarly to his movement before.

"Rise," he rasped and let me up. I obeyed immediately. "Bolt the door, please."

Swaying on my feet I turned around and walked to the wooden, big door; I turned the key in a lock and bolted it additionally, making sure no one can disturb us. I listened for a short moment, but no one was walking on the corridor. We were safe and alone.

"Come," I heard Elrond's voice. "Pour me some wine."

I paid attention to the servants during banquets and so I knew how to do it gracefully. I handed my Lord the full crystal glass and smiled at his gamesome expression.

"Why have you brought only one glass?" he asked.

"Because it is for you, my Lord," I said modestly. He quirked an eyebrow, drank a little and handed the glass to me. Bowing my head in thanks, I accepted. I rarely tasted wine at all, for I was still young and it wasn't approved, but seemingly Elrond wanted to indulge me.

"What is your name?" he asked, painting a lazy trail on my thigh with his finger.

I couldn't think out anything reasonable in so short a time. "Legolas," I said slowly, afraid that I might have given up my tricky plan, but to my surprise Elrond laughed.

"I heard your youngest prince is named so. The name must have been popular after his birth!" He smiled, reaching for the glass again. I couldn't help a relieved, nervous laugh.

"Indeed, my Lord," I said. "I am practically of his age."

"I see." Elrond sobered somehow. "So young, so innocent…" he whispered, reaching with his hands to the straps holding the front of my tunic together. "I shouldn't do this," he whispered more to himself than to me.

"Please do," I whispered hopelessly, going down on my knees again, making my clothes more accessible.

"You have done this before, haven't you?" he asked worriedly, searching for my eyes. I nodded.

It wasn't a thorough lie, of course. I wouldn't manage to lie to him straightforwardly. I have done this before with few fellow warriors, mostly in some hiding places, my partners sworn to secrecy, for Ada wouldn't ever want to see me with a man. I learnt enough to know what to do, but I never let anyone invade me. This I left for him. This will be his to take. So that I remember this night forever. And I knew there is nothing to be afraid of; Elrond was more gentle than I would imagine, more considerate than any of men I laid with. He had barely touched me, but all he did was pleasurable. I trembled when I thought of what was to come.

My clothes came off with ease; he smiled brightly, noticing that it is so long since he undressed a male, that it actually has an exciting ting of novelty in it. I let him peel off my tunic, delicate like spider's web undershirt, soft leather boots, simple white leggings. Searching for allowance in my eyes, he grabbed an edge of my loincloth and pulled, revealing me to his eyes.

He was just looking at me for a long, long moment.

I almost covered myself with my hands, suddenly discouraged and uneasy, but he stopped me with a quick, forbidding movement. His eyes kept sliding up and down my body until I started to tremble. I tossed a glance in the window direction.

The rain, only delicately rapping in the window glass, became more violent with time. Now I could predict that the rain will grow into a storm. I started to shiver both from the cool air coming from the slightly opened window and from Elrond's stare; even now I cannot say what was more of the cause.

When Elrond's hand touched me on the stomach, he seemed so warm, so alive, that I shook like a leaf on the wind. He finally rose from his armchair and surrounded me with his good, warm aura.

"Cold?"

I murmured something inarticulate, but overally admitting.

"We will remedy that." He smiled and laid a hand on my nape. "You are truly beautiful, Legolas." He said only. His smile and approving glare meant whole world to me.

He walked with me, keeping that strategically located hand closed on my nape, leading me to a huge, wooden bed, padded with a richly embroidered, silken bedsheets. Even I had not ones like that, so the look of amazement was not difficult to feign.

He directed me into the bed and quickly undressed himself; I could never suspect that I will actually turn my face away at what I was seeing. Nude Elrond was almost too much for my eyes. Even if he abandoned the way of a warrior, the sculpture of his body was still evident; unbent with age, immortal with glory, he shone. Surely he couldn't be as beautiful as when he was younger. But for me he was abashing, as if I was seeing a deity. This powerful chest, roughly hewed sculpture of a stomach, that pair of muscled thighs, revealed one by one, made me realize that even if I wanted to beg him to spare me now, he would not, for we have crossed the line of possible withdrawing long ago. This mighty Lord will soon use my slight and weak body as he wants, I thought with some fear I didn't feel before, so certain of pure pleasure to come.

Elrond noticed. Elrond knew. He smirked with some kind of satisfaction at my instant lack of courage and made a soothing stroke down my arm, as if saying: do not worry.

Swiftly and purposely he climbed on the bed and covered my body with his. His lips found mine again and his hands started boldly exploring upper parts of my chest. I felt his fingers probe my collarbone, press the vein above delicately, as if he was taking my pulse. My heart was beating fast and very loud. He nodded with satisfaction again.

Far away thunder and following lightning made the sky momentarily white.

His lips traveled swiftly; from my mouth they chose a path north, to lick one of my ears and have me squirming, for these body parts were sensitive to the touch. After this unexpected, fierce pleasure Elrond nuzzled my jaw and revealed the left side of my white throat. Playfully licking one place, he bit it down with a smirk and sucked the pale flesh strong enough to leave a mark for everyone to see tomorrow. Sudden flash of panic transferred into a sea of obedience when I realized that in his possessiveness he marked me as his; he branded me, for he felt attracted and attached to me, to the very thing we were doing. Even if it hurt, I enjoyed every one of the bites he left on my skin, for it meant he cared, for it left me with a palpable proof that this night was not a dream, for… for it was undoing me in a way I couldn't describe.

I wanted to participate somehow, to give pleasure to him. I learnt how to do that. When I made a move to rise and switch places, so that I could kiss and pleasure him, he fiercely pressed both my hands into the mattress in a wordless order.

"Just let me" he said only and gave his full attention to my right nipple, sucking it and biting down gently until it stood hard and reddish like a winterberry. I understood he had not made love to anyone in a long period of time and now he wanted to explore me thoroughly. This was more important to him than actually receiving pleasure; that was more common thing, impersonal even, I could say myself. He needed my trust, my submission, my obedience. He wanted me to allow him to take the initiative.

I did. It was easier for me this way, of course. But I promised to myself I will give him pleasure too, not only staying at the receiving end.

His hands ran over my flanks and his tongue darted into my navel, when I lost control over my voice for the first time. What he did was so unexpected that I arched up and moaned long, cleaving the sheets with both hands. He cherished the sound and delighted in it, for he practically ordered me to do it again. I felt like I couldn't do anything else. His hands were everywhere, and a slow journey of his mouth from my ankle to my groin was a sweet torture of waiting. I wanted to touch him, but he was out of my reach. I wanted him to touch me, but he was content with nuzzling the inside of my knee only.

"Please…"

He moved closer to my groin, where my elfhood laid heavily on my belly, weeping for attention. He left another bite, especially big one, on the inside of my thigh. He smirked at the sound I made.

"Please what?" he asked.

"Oh, you are malicious, my Lord," I breathed, hiding my face in a pillow.

He only laughed quietly and abandoned my leg to hover above me. He reached for a kiss, which I willingly gave, and I was rewarded for that. His hand finally touched and fondled delicately with a soft pouch between my thighs.

I could finally repay the kindness, because he was so close, and yet I couldn't, for my mind stopped working. I dipped my fingers in his hair, threading his mane, stroking down his neck; I was speaking something incoherent, but I cannot remember what I tried to say. Some time later I found that I can reach to his shaft with my hand.

That stirred me anew. I opened my eyes and gave my full attention to him, my Lord, my admired. I was determined to wrap my fingers around the swollen length and stroke up and down. He observed my eyes with a warm smile. He seemed a bit amused.

"Harder, child," he said. "Like that."

I couldn't form my thoughts in a coherent word to scream when he showed me how.

Exhausted, but still needy for the climax, I was abandoned much too early. Elrond returned to lazy exploring and it frustrated me to the core. I frowned in distress and it pleased him again.

"Do you happen to have something to ease the way?" I heard.

I did. When he undressed me, he tossed my leggings close to the bed. I had a phial of oil hidden in a small pocket in them. Now I reached a hand and somehow suspended, hanging from the one side of the bed I grabbed the fabric with the ends of my fingers. Finally I produced the phial from the folds of the leggings. I handed it to him wordlessly.

He sighed onto my neck, left one last kiss on my cheek and knelt on the bed, putting my knee over his arm. He coated his fingers with generous amount of the scented oil and first smeared the substance over himself; I could only watch in mute fascination.

The fireplace shone with light that was becoming diminished more and more, the rain whipped the stained glass mercilessly. In a weak, warm light Elrond seemed more beautiful than Kings of the past drawn in the books he liked to read so much.

"Hold still, relax," he said hoarsely, putting his left hand on my chest to hold me down. I hugged that offered hand close, both in fear and excitement; I closed my eyes in a reflex, trying to wait through the pain in the safe darkness, but he would not have it this way. "Look at me, little leaf. Open your eyes."

He found a puckered opening and slowly circled it until I could breathe again. His eyes were dark with desire, and yet he wore a calm, focused expression. When he pushed inside I hissed with the pain which was smaller than I expected, but nevertheless present. He called me to look at him again. I held into his hand desperately.

I think I betrayed myself in that moment, for he must have felt he was taking my innocence from me, yet he didn't stop. He added a second finger into my passage, scissoring and spreading me open, and I couldn't help but trash at the sensation, not as much from pain, but from the slight shock of something moving inside me. Just when I thought I cannot take it anymore, he stopped and massaged something inside me which completely blackened out any idea of pleasure I had. I surrendered, only begging him to do that again, and he did, with three solid fingers slipping inside me.

He gathered my unresisting body and arranged me on his lap, while I still moaned for the loss of contact when he slipped out of me. Positioning himself firmly, he pushed inside with a groan, and I was brutally ripped out of my pleasant haze, for Elrond's shaft was thicker than his fingers felt. I think I screamed louder than I should, for I found myself gagged with a kiss and pressed to the mattress with all the weight of his body.

Now the pain was greater than I could imagine. I couldn't even ask him to hold on, to give me some time, for my mouth were claimed. My hands trembled where I laid them on his flanks and few tears escaped from the corners of my eyes; but I forced myself to endure, just for him, for my Elrond.

When fully sheathed, he released my mouth and an unwanted sob broke free unchecked. He panted heavily over me and repetitiously stroked my head where he could reach it, trying to soothe me. Before I could stop myself, I covered my face with one hand in a very childish gesture, sobbing quietly.

"Valar, you are so tight," he panted. "You will undo me in any time. Shush, little leaf. Tears are normal. Shush… we will wait… a while…"

I nodded, relieved beyond measure, for I wanted him to wait. We stayed tightly embraced, holding to each other in the ever growing darkness, out of breath, sweated. His lips were moving in a delicate, shushing sounds, occasionally closing over the soft flesh of my throat. I was calming down gradually, but he still whispered, maybe to reassure himself as well…? I held my arms around his neck fiercely, wordlessly telling him all about my shock and hurt, my hope that he gives me some time.

The last spark of fire in the chamber fireplace died.

Elrond sighed contently, finally regaining his senses. He looked at my tearstreaked face with fondness, then kissed away every salty teardrop. At the end he kissed me in the mouth and I tasted my own tears, yielding to him once again.

"I will move now," he whispered and all I could do was agree to whatever he wished to do to me.

Failing to describe what I actually felt, I clutched to my Lord and observed his face. Focused, and yet full of abandon. Throaty sigh escaped him and betrayed his pleasure each time he pushed into me, and though I felt pain still, I was strangely content, for I knew I pleased him. Elrond bit down his lower lip, closing his eyes in bliss, his long black hair falling down on my chest like cascades of precious, silken thread. I figured uncertainly that I should lift my hips, so that he can enter me more; I tried, and he reached with one hand to wrap my leg around his waist.

That little change of position made the whole thing suddenly pleasurable for me. Now each time he pushed inside me, he touched that little bundle of nerves he showed me before and I finally understood what so irresistible is in intercourse that the passion outweighs reason. I cannot possibly say how long we went with that erratic, fierce rhythm. He panted in the crook of my neck, repeating my name in a strained whisper. I caught these sounds and marveled in them, kneading his back with both of my hands, feeling closer and closer to saying his name aloud also. When I finally dared, I found it the most beautiful name in the world, and the most wonderful word I ever said in my whole life. I think I cried, when I repeated it again, delighting with the feeling, and then my Lord shuddered, grunted loud and collapsed on top of me, his hot essence filling my passage.

He laid unmoving, gathering his scattered senses.

It took him a while. It felt good and honoring to have him so exhausted on top of me, yet I still craved for his attention. As his breath slowly came back to the slow, deep inhales and exhales, mine was still hitching. As his heart calmed down, mine raced with no pause. As his eyes turned into cloudy gray again, mine were lined with tears and dilated.

"Oh," he murmured only, noticing my state. It didn't take much of an effort to make me come, for he took me in hand and pumped only few times – blissful few times – when I stopped seeing anything as a powerful wave of pleasure shook me. I came all around his hand and my stomach.

In a stupor I found myself floating in I felt him slipping out of me and I vaguely thought that the bedsheets will undoubtedly be stained. Elrond stretched next to me, propping up on an elbow; he observed me with a calm face as I was resting. Playfully he stroked my length once again, which caused me to trash at the overstimulation. He did it again and again, observing my reactions, until with enormous effort of my heavy, tired body I managed to roll on my side and put my knees together.

"You are a wonder, little leaf," he murmured, resting his hand on my hip and kissing my closed, fluttering eyelid. "My Legolas. You were… exquisite. For the lack of better word."

I drowsily understood the praising tone and favorable petting; this reaction made me truly happy. That was what I aimed for. That words I wished for. When he touched me again, it was with a wet cloth, to wash the remnants of our lovemaking from my body; I felt so tired that to move a single limb was too much, and yet he appeared full of fervor. Smile on his face was deeper than any I saw before. His Elven light was almost vibrant. I wondered at that – for truly, how long had it been since he was with anyone…?

"Have I exhausted you past endurance, my little leaf?" he smirked.

I only nodded with a lazy smile.

One deep breath more and I tried to raise, for I knew very well that his rest should not be further disturbed. He was heavenly kind with allowing me to stay that long anyway. And he even cleaned me, what should have been my job.

"My Lord… I should leave now. I should not disturb you… thank you, my Lord. I hope I have pleased you." I said, trying to crawl out of bed. I was beginning to feel bad, all of sudden - tired and sore, strangely spent. I just wanted to sleep now, to stop the assault of thoughts that appeared out of nowhere and were not pleasant at all. I stood up with some difficulty, grimacing at the soreness, to reach for my leggings and other scattered pieces of clothing. That was when he simply reached and pulled me back onto the mattress.

"You think I want you gone now?" he asked only, embracing me tightly and arranging the covers on top of us. "Elfling, elfling. You should rest now, I think… and wouldn't you want to rest in my arms?"

I was… lost, my friend. I just didn't know what to say. After a while I snuggled closer and let myself to rest near my mighty, admired, beloved Lord. How I wanted to blurt out everything! My true identity, my feelings towards him, my secret work in both body and spirit just for him to find me pleasing. I wanted him to know, to hold me, not a mere servant I appeared; but I kept all this inside. I discarded it all, for a minute focusing on his heartbeat and his fingers in my hair.

It was better this way. Let him only realize I am no one. He made no mistake, he disrespected no father, he abused no hospitality.

He just found a little shard of freedom and peace.

I made him happier. Mere servant or not, it was me. My body he touched, my soul he accepted. We both will cherish this memory. We will both remember this night.

Valar, may he never know whom he took this night. Let it stay this way… let it stay a beautiful memory, with no threat or shadow of distress.

"I will… come home to Imladris…" Elrond whispered suddenly. "…and hope the fate will allow us to meet again, one day. I will be waiting for you, elfling. Little leaf who made me happy for this one night."

/*/

Try to understand, my friend. The one person I decided to tell this story of mine.