=0=Fortunate Son, Part Eleven
His eyes never left Elrond's, the demeanor of the great lord so commanding that his will evaporated. Elrond's robes slipped away, falling to the floor and yet his eyes never wavered. Legolas was caught in the heat of the older man's gaze. For a moment Legolas was standing, his breath trapped short in his lungs and then he was flat on his back, lying next to the Lord of Imladris, helpless to resist his will.
Elrond's hand, his fingers themselves, stroked the soft skin at the base of his neck and he felt electrical energy surge through his body, radiating out of the tips of his fingers and toes. The fingers slipped slowly down, tracing a path along his chest, lingering here and there with feather-like touches.
He shifted, the pleasure rising in his body as they continued their inexorable journey southward, pausing on his flat stomach, gently caressing his skin. He closed his eyes, captive to the skill of his lover and as he lay there all that he hoped for was coming to pass.
Elrond looked at the bounty lying before him and felt a terrible possessiveness rising through him. Thranduil's son would be his in ways his father never imagined and he would never give him up, no matter what the consequences. He leaned down, gently flicking his tongue over a dark nipple, relishing the sharp sound of pleasure that issued from Legolas' lips. Strong hands stroked his hair, fingers slipping through the dark tangles and he moved up, finding Legolas' soft lips once more.
He shifted, half lying on the youngster as he kissed him, his leg pressing between Legolas'. The youngster moved, his legs opening and in that moment Elrond gave himself over to their mutual pleasure, pulling Legolas' leg toward him as he sought contact. There would be no conscious thinking now, no rational reflection. There would only be two bodies entwining together and the need between them.
Moving again, he lay himself on top of Legolas, slipping his hand through the thick golden hair of the youngster as his tongue made its own way in all the sweet regions of his mouth. They kissed, Legolas' groans swallowed by Elrond's lips and then he paused, staring down into Legolas' flushed face. The youngster looked at him, a ragged sigh escaping his lips. Strong hands slid up Elrond's back and Legolas raised his legs, gripping Elrond's hips.
Elrond felt his body aching with need and he reached between them, moving slightly to align their bodies together. He waited, watching pleasure drift across Legolas' face. It was exquisite to him and as he watched, Legolas whispered.
"More," he sighed, turning and kissing Elrond's shoulder. "Please."
Elrond leaned down and captured his mouth, thrusting himself against Legolas' body. The youngster groaned, his breath caught in his throat and then Elrond moved again, finding a rhythm between them that satisfied both.
Legolas sighed, slipping his arms around Elrond's back, his fingers gripping smooth muscles as he held on. The pleasure of Elrond's efforts overrode his conscious thoughts and all he could do was hold the older man, drinking in the sensations he created.
Elrond was all that could register in his overheated mind and he raised his legs higher, holding tighter as the rhythm got rougher. Lips kissed him, hands gripped his hair and a strong body surged against him, the friction burning his across his slick belly. It was overpowering and his reality fell farther and farther into sensation.
Sweat trickled into his eyes, running down his face. Sweat gathered on his belly, the sweat of his own body and Elrond's and as the older man drove against him, they slid together, the warmth between them almost more than he could bear.
He cried out, pulsing sensation rising from his groin and as he did Elrond increased his movement, his lips capturing Legolas'. He was trapped in pleasure, ensnared by it and all he wanted was for it to continue forever. But it wasn't to be and when he felt his orgasm coming, he cried out, arching against the older man holding him so tightly.
He felt it roll away, like thunder across the mountains but Elrond wasn't finished. Legolas tightened his grip, his long legs holding on and as Elrond finally finished, groaning loudly in Legolas' ear as he spasmed, he felt exhilaration at long last.
Elrond lay still, fallen into Legolas and as he rested, strong hands stroked his hair. He sighed raggedly, the heat of his skin matched by the heat of Legolas' body. He didn't want to move. He wanted to lie where he was wrapped in Legolas' arms and legs, sheltered from the complications and loneliness of his country's responsibilities.
"I love you," a soft voice said.
Elrond smiled, raising his head, looking into soft blue eyes that looked back with adoration. "I love you, Melme."
Legolas smiled, rolling with his lover as Elrond moved off. They entwined together, Elrond's hands brushing damp blond hair back from Legolas' face. He sighed deeply, contented in a way he couldn't have imagined. He had no idea how arid his life had been before this moment, the loneliness that had been his lot unknown in its magnitude until now.
He kissed Legolas' forehead, his hand tracing small circles on the youngster's shoulder. He was content. The room was silent a moment and then Legolas rose up, staring at him.
"May I be with you? Must I sleep alone now?"
Elrond considered his request and sighed. "No. But no one must know. This is a breach of unimaginable magnitude, Legolas. No one must know what has happened between us."
He nodded, sighing. "Because I am your squire."
"Yes," Elrond replied, sighing against Legolas' lips as he leaned down to kiss him. "You are."
He pulled the youngster against him, holding him tightly. If anyone were to know of this moment, he considered, the consequences to all concerned would be enormous.
The night was silent as they lay together. The stars were long fading in the sky before either found sleep.
He left early, his guard riding along with him. They passed signs of Thranduil's host, the telltale markings of an army on the march. He hurried along, turning toward Mirkwood and the one he sought. It would take days but when he arrived, he was welcomed into the household, such was his reputation among his own kind.
She greeted him, hugging him tightly.
"Glorfindel, what brings you here to our house?" she asked, breathless for news on her son. "Is Legolas all right?"
"He is well, Lady," Glorfindel replied. "I bring news of his good health and beg of you a favor beneficial to us both."
She nodded and turned, the two walking to a sitting room where they talked for three hours. When they finished, Glorfindel left, message tube in hand and continued his journey to Lothlorien.
The days passed, news coming from abroad about orc activity. It appeared to center along the border lands of Lothlorien and Mirkwood. The idea of a conflagration was growing and when Celeborn asked for a Council at Rivendell, they threw themselves into preparations with their usual efficiency.
Horsemen arrived from all around, delegates from Lothlorien, Mirkwood and the realms of Men. Into the great gate of Rivendell they rode, entering the house to be greeted by its master. Standing by his side, working with great care, Legolas watched as the gathering came together.
There was an excitement in the air, people arriving whom he had only heard of in tale and song and when the day arrived for his father to come, he stood in the courtyard waiting. Horsemen approached and entered, dismounting together, their eyes turned toward the beauty of the buildings surrounding them.
Legolas searched them for his father, expecting him. He wasn't in the group. Galdor was there as ambassador for their kingdom and he walked toward Legolas, a smile on his face.
"Are you here to take my horse or are you the master's greeter?"
Legolas bit back his retort and stared at him, considering what he should say. Then he shrugged. "I was expecting Father. I guess I'll have to settle for you."
Galdor snorted in spite of himself and gazed around him. "Rather nice for wood I should say."
"This is a beautiful place," Legolas said in spite of himself. "You will find it so."
He turned and walked inside, his bemused brother following along with his companions. Inside, talking to several other arrivals, Elrond stood. Galdor looked at him, studying the figure that had almost mythical status among their people. He moved forward, passing Legolas who stood respectfully and joined the group. They turned and looked at him, Elrond's gaze meeting Galdor's easily.
"Lord Elrond," Galdor said.
Elrond's gaze met his and he nodded. "You are the representative from Mirkwood I take it. Galdor, I believe."
"Prince Galdor, representative of the Kingdom of Mirkwood." He gave a tiny bow, almost with regret and he turned, gazing at his brother. "I would ask your leave to speak to your squire. It has been a long time since we confided in each other."
Elrond glanced at Legolas, taken by the lack of expression on that normally expressive face and nodded. "I would be amiss in my regard for your family and my squire to deny such a request. Legolas, you may attend to your brother."
He nodded and moved with his brother, who then turned and followed as a young lady showed them the way to their rooms. Legolas walked up the stairs, watching as Galdor looked around. They passed the room where Narsil lay in fragments, the great libraries and other public rooms of the house. Walking down a corridor, she showed them where they would stay and left them, Legolas entering with his brother.
It was a beautiful room, like all the others of the house and his brother admired it, turning and smiling at his brother. "You were right when you said it was beautiful."
The others with Galdor found chairs or walked to the balcony, staring out at the mountains on the other side of the river. It was quiet for a moment and then Galdor gestured Legolas to follow. They walked to a corner of the balcony that was unclaimed. He stared at his brother, considering his words.
"The meeting tomorrow is important to our kingdom. Father expects that our people will play a great role in the coming battles against the orcs. I ask that you tell me what you know of Lord Elrond's mind in this matter."
Legolas considered his words and shrugged. "I know not. He doesn't confide affairs of state in me. I am but his squire."
Galdor smirked. "You have access to his person. You have ears. Surely you have heard private conversations between the lord and his advisers."
"I haven't. I take care of his horses and his rooms. I fetch and carry and do his bidding. I am not privy to his great conversations, Galdor."
The older man considered his words. "You aren't privy or you aren't telling?"
Legolas felt a flash of color warm his cheeks and anger flared in his eyes. "Do you believe that I would undermine our country? Do you believe that I don't love my father?"
Galdor considered his reaction and shrugged. "I believe you are bewitched by this place. I believe that Elrond has cast a spell upon you. You are not truthful with me, Legolas."
"In what subject?" Legolas asked, his own emotion rising.
"You have knowledge but you keep it from me, your own brother. You would put the interests of Imladris ahead of Mirkwood."
Legolas glared at him, his rage rising. "You speak without proofs. Your hatred of Lord Elrond ill serves our country, Galdor."
"Perhaps, perhaps not. What does your feelings mean for our people, Legolas? What are you keeping from me that can make a difference for our country?"
Legolas stared at him, his expression hard and cold. "Nothing," he lied and then he turned and walked out, leaving his brother and his company alone.
Ellan stepped forward, leaning against the railing beside Galdor. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked.
Galdor smirked, glancing at the tall quiet man beside him. "I don't know," he said, musing on the enigma of his youngest brother. "I am not sure."
Dinner was sounded and all arrived, sitting about the table according to rank. Elrond sat in his chair at the head of the table, elevated above all in rank. Men sat side by side, the kings and chieftains of far off places. Elves sat in groups, golden and dark-haired, talking together with few mixing. The few that did were of the elder variety, Glorfindel, Haldir of Lorien and Ellan of Mirkwood of one example.
Legolas stood beside Elrond's chair, attending to his lord as was his duty. He didn't look in his brother's direction even as he felt his brother's eyes upon him. He sighed internally and willed himself to out wait the day.
Elrond noted his nervousness and chalked it up to the moment. Their privacy might be impaired by Galdor's presence, he considered. Perhaps it would be best to be separate until the meeting was over and all left for their separate lands.
Dinner finished and men and women rose, walking past the courtyard to the great rolling lawn behind the house. Several of the younger men had decided to match skills, testing the honor of their countries by shooting. Legolas felt a hand on his arm and turned, gazing into Galdor's eyes.
"Fetch your bow and arrows, Legolas. You will be shooting for Mirkwood this day."
Legolas sighed and turned, walking through the house to his room. He entered, the barely visited place seemingly destitute to him and found his weapons. He returned to the dining room, finding it empty and continued out, noting the array of personages settling for the shooting.
Elrond had commanded that targets be set, the colorful little stakes being driven into the great expanse of lawn that stretched out before them. They were barely visible and far away, many of them, making the shooting to come difficult at best.
Galdor motioned him over and he went, shifting on his quiver. "You will be our champion. I don't believe that there are any here who can best you. Make your shots well, Legolas. Our country's honor is at stake."
Legolas nodded and turned, noting great archers gathering for their turn. He looked down the course, noting the farthest stave bearing red. He calculated the distance and checked the wind, determining that with skill and silence he would make the shot with care.
Behind him, watching from a seat of honor, Elrond of Rivendell sat enraptured.
=0=TBC
c2010
