Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or any of the characters.

Warnings: NON-CON! If you have a problem with that hit the Back button now! I don't want to hear it. Fair warning.

So it's been forever and a day since I've posted anything. Period. Especially a multi-chapter fic. I posted a one-shot about a year ago and that's pretty much it. It's extremely depressing but hopefully this'll be my come-back. I'm hoping that by posting something (even though I was planning on coming back with a different fic) that it'll inspire me to write more... Forgive any rustiness on my part! n.n

Hope you all enjoy! I am very nervous about this.

Shame Needs No Voice

Chapter One: Distances

Eildir pushed him down to the bed, leering down at him, his auburn hair dark in the shadows.

The man stared at his friend in shock. He struggled against the elf to get away, his heart beating wildly as fear seized him.

"Eildir! What are you doing?" the dark-haired man asked desperately. "Please, stop."

Eildir ignored Estel and straddled the man's thighs, pinning his arms above his head with one hand, making it impossible to move--the elf's strength was greater than his own.

He grinned down at Estel, hunger clearly seen in his dark eyes.

Estel kept shouting hysterically, hoping someone would hear his pleas and help. However, this night there was a celebration, laughter, loud music and cheers rang loudly through the halls.

No one could hear him. There would be no help.

His eyes started to well up with tears when Eildir started to unlace his leggings.

Estel shot up in bed, sweat drenching his clothes.

With wide eyes he scanned his chambers, fearful of what he might find.

He sighed with deep-rooted relief and flopped back down to his pillow when he found nothing. He laid there, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He dared not close his eyes.

Soon, unable to bear the overpowering darkness and what could lay in wait, Estel abruptly got out of bed. Slipping on an overcoat, he made his way quietly outside to the garden, eyes wary.

He sat down on the bench in his favorite area. Although the dull lights were meant to brighten the night, they left eerie shadows stretching across the ground, reaching for him.

The man hunched forward, elbows on his knees, palms pressed to his eyes as if they were an additional shield against his nightmares and thoughts. His body trembled and he could barely keep himself together as flashes of memory swept through him.

It does not matter. It's over. He will never do it again, Estel kept telling himself, desperately trying to reassure his racing mind.

He breathed deeply, slightly more calm, but he still did not move.

Hours later, a voice broke through the silence.

His head shot up, fear etched into his eyes. His name had been said in deep concern. He had reacted before he even had a chance to think about who had called him.

The golden haired elf jumped back slightly, surprised at his friend's reaction. He knew not to approach him again so, instead, he softly asked, "Mellon-nin, what's wrong?"

He had seen the forlorn way the young man had been bent over, lost in thought.

Estel swallowed thickly, forcing himself to relax. This elf would never harm him. He had nothing to fear when he was around him.

"I was just deep in thought and you startled me," he said, and it was mostly true. Legolas couldn't know what had happened, no one could.

Legolas frowned at Estel, unsure if he should really believe him. He did believe he was deep in thoguht, but that nothing was wrong? It would take a lot of convincing for him to buy that with his recent behavior. The man still tried to act normal, but it was obvious that it was strained.

"Estel..." Legolas trailed in exasperation. He wished his friend would open up to him again. He hadn't been so secretive since they had first met. Now he had no idea what to do. He did, however, know that he couldn't push too hard.

"Nothing. Really," Estel added, giving Legolas a smile he hoped would assure the archer.

Legolas inwardly frowned but let it go, knowing it would only make matters worse.

Both said nothing as an awkward silence fell between them. Estel refused to look at Legolas, ashamed and guilty for not being able to tell his friend. He knew Legolas meant well, and he appreciated the concern, but it really did not help. He was trying so hard to keep himself under control. He didn't need to talk about it.

Legolas saw the fallen look that fell across Estel's face. Wishing he could help his friend, he gently placed a hand on the man's shoulder, hoping to lend comfort.

Estel flinched at the unexpected touch, but stood firm and forced himself to be still.

Despite his best efforts, it was far too obvious that Estel had a thin hold on his actions. Legolas felt the man's body stiffen under his touch.

He pulled his hand back, closely watching the man, the remaining darkness making it hard to see much. The way his body freezed up was from fear... What did Estel have to fear?

He inwardly sighed, seeing Estel's downcast gaze. Then, he decided he should just ask the question he had been curious about the entire time. "What are you doing here so late?"

Estel's mind scrambled for an answer that wouldn't seem suspicious. He quickly--but calmly--replied, "I could not sleep."

Partial truth was always more convincing than a flat-out lie.

Legolas couldn't say much against that, for he knew Estel did go to the garden on occasion to ease his mind. However, he had been doing so much more often recently.

The prince sighed and resisted the urge to hold the young man. Such gestures were no longer welcome to him, even though he tried to act like nothing was wrong with them. Legolas had known him nearly as long as he had been accepted as Elrond's adopted son and he could read him better than anyone else.

Instead of speaking of his disbelief, however, he sat down on the bench with Estel.

Estel's heart clenched at the defeated sigh, and he felt even worse.

After minutes of silence passed, he was extremely relieved that Legolas had decided to let the subject go.

The sun was now rising, golden rays splashing through the leaves, gleaming in the fountain, the sunlight reflecting on the ground.

Still, neither Legolas nor Estel moved or spoke. They sat there, thoughts running through their minds. Estel wasn't sure if his mind was more at peace or more cluttered now.

Their silence wasn't exactly uncomfortable, it was just... The air was stifling. Estel wanted away from there but, at the same time, he felt safe in Legolas' presence.

Another half hour passed and Legolas stood. "Walk with me," the younger elf said softly as if the words would disturb the early hour. He extended his hand for Estel to take.

The dark-haired man looked at Legolas; then down at his hand, considering. Eventually, he took it and stood in front of his friend.

Legolas smiled and they walked.

The elf thought this would be better for Estel than sitting there, stuck within his thoughts. This way he hoped the man would think about his surroundings: the green of the leaves, the wind and the birds, and his company.

There was a reason many people went there--for the comfort and relaxation the area offered. Both he and Estel often did the same.

Estel appreciated the effort on his friend's part and weakly smiled at him. It was all he could manage.

Words were no longer needed between the two as they walked side-by-side, and Estel had to admit that walking was a lot better than sitting. He had been sitting there for hours. He hadn't been able to get up the courage to move, to escape his nightmare, no matter how much he had wished it.

Inwardly he shook his head, ridding his mind of useless and hurtful thoughts. He took in everything, especially Legolas' comforting presence and was finally able to let it go.

And they walked.

They walked until the sun rose high in the sky and it was time for the morning meal, a place where Estel was surrounded by his family and the people he cared about more than anything.

And he wouldn't be there.

"Estel?" Legolas suddenly questioned in deep concern. A shadow of fear had passed across the man's face. It had sent a chill down the elf's spine. He didn't know where Estel's thoughts had abruptly led him, but he knew for certain that he didn't want them to continue down that path.

Estel snapped his head up to look at Legolas, eyes wide as the voice had startled him. He was grateful for the disruption. However, he was irritated at himself for his inability to stop his thoughts from drifting.

The man lowered his head. "Forgive me," he muttered, unable to look Legolas in the eye.

"Worry not," the archer reassured, for he was just relieved that he had been able to pull his friend out of whatever distressing thoughts he had been having.

When they finally reached their destination, the prince opened the door for Estel.

The man smiled in return and entered, Legolas close behind.

They were early, even though they had gone back to change for the day, and only the head of Imladris, Elrond, was there.

The dark-haired elf looked up at the two and greeted them cheerfully. The frown at seeing his son so disheleved and wearied was buried behind his smile.

The two friends returned the greeting and took their seats, waiting for the twins, Elladan and Elrohir to show. The morning meal was often small and that was the way they liked it; Estel especially did now.

"Sleep well?" the elder elf asked the two, though it was obvious from one glance.

Nevertheless, Estel still nodded like he had and asked the question in turn. The man had to wonder why it felt like there was an invisible barrier between them that kept them at a distance.

Their conversation was limited, almost stiffly spoken as they waited.

When the twins arrived Estel couldn't help but feel relieved. He kept berating himself for his strange behavior. It was all in his imagination.

"Good morn," Legolas and Elrond acknowledged the twins entrance. Estel's own was followed, though less enthusiastically, despite his effort.

The two sat down and they soon began to eat.

Legolas, Elrond and the twins all conversed, but whenever Estel wanted to add something or, when he did, he felt foolish.

The distance was driving him mad.

How had it become so great; so suddenly?

Estel turned to look at the four surrounding him. Elladan and Elrohir were laughing at some joke they had pulled on their latest victim. Elrond and Legolas gently spoke, smiling.

Why was it so hot in there? Why did it feel so suffocating?

He had never felt so much tension.

And he wanted it all to stop.

He tried to keep himself composed, tried to keep eating, tried to ignore the other four.

He tried.

Impossible.

He gripped his dark, mussed hair, trying to calm down.

His grip tightened.