Title: Niphred Ôl (1-2/18)
Author: Quellecristiel
Author's Email: quellecristiel@yahoo.co.uk
Pairings: Legolas/Glorfindel, eventual Legolas/Elrohir
Rating: R
Summary: Legolas is being abused by his lover, but he loves him too much to leave
Disclaimer: You know the drill, I don't own anything but two paperclips, a pen and a notepad
WARNING: Violence, Rape, OOC Glorfindel, AU (no ring)
Authors Note: I really do rather like Glorfindel, and he's lovely in my other fic, Healing, (soon to be published in Skyfire's zine), but I needed somebody to be the bad guy this time, and I don't like bringing in original characters. I'm sorry to all the Glorfindel fans out there! If you do like this fic, please review and make a poor little slash writer's day...
just in case you missed it.
WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS DOMESTIC ABUSE, RAPE AND BDSM. IF YOU OBJECT TO THESE TOPICS PLEASE DO NOT READ
Please don't flame, and get upset over the rating/content etc. I have posted adequate warning and explained the content of this story, it is your choice to read it or not. Constructive criticism however is welcome- you can't improve without knowing your failings (
Special thanks go to Cheysuli, whose challenge this is the result of, and to my wonderful beta reader Niana Yuy.
(thank you both so much!)
Chapter 5
Elrohir fidgeted restlessly in his brother's arms, growing ever more frustrated. He had been waiting for news of Legolas for hours now, pacing the floor liked a caged beast until his twin could bear it no longer and drew him down into a tight embrace. Soothing hands gently massaged his shoulders, trying unsuccessfully to work out the knots of tension in the muscles there. Admitting defeat, Elladan wrapped one arm around his brother's waist, and with the other began rubbing slow circles on his tense back.
"Relax brother. Fretting and pacing will not make the healers work any faster." Elrohir exhaled deeply, shutting his eyes and leaning back into the embrace. "I wish they would come. I cannot get his image out of my mind; blood everywhere." He shivered. "Hush, try not to think about that now, it will only cause you unnecessary anguish. Legolas will be alright, Ada is looking after him." Elrohir nodded, snuggling his head beneath the older twin's chin.
It was like this that Elrond found them more than an hour later, still taking comfort in one another's nearness. As soon as he heard his father enter, Elrohir quickly disentangled himself, eager for a status report on the prince.
Elrond looked tired and drained, and blood stained his otherwise pristine white healing robes, turning the twins pale. He paused taking in their anxious faces, before finally putting them out of their misery. "He will live," he said softly, provoking identical sighs of relief from the twins. "He wasn't as seriously injured as I initially feared, but the damage is still quite extensive- there is severe internal bruising, although the bleeding has been stopped, and three of his ribs are broken. One of them punctured a lung, which was why he was spitting up blood- he nearly drowned in his own blood."
Elladan winced at his father's graphic description, while Elrohir fought the rising nausea. Elrond came to rest his hand on Elrohir's shoulder. "He will need several weeks in bed to recover- it was only due to the power of Vilya that he yet lives. He will also be in much pain. Legolas is unused to being an invalid- he will need both of you to support him." "We will, father," Elladan vowed. Elrond smild affectionately, resting his free hand on his eldest son's head. "You are both good boys, I am proud of you." But Elrohir remained unsatisfied. "But Ada, what about Glorfindel? Shouldn't he be punished for this? Legolas nearly died!" Elladan's brow creased in confusion. "Glorfindel? You think he did this?"
Elrond sighed, unable to put this off any longer. "We have reason to believe this is his doing, yes, and that it is not the first time either." Elrohir took over. "You remember when Legolas broke his wrist?" Elladan nodded dumbly. "And the day at the training field, when he was covered in bruises?" Elladan looked shocked. "You mean he's been doing this for-" "Years, probably," his father put in, and even Elrohir turned to him in surprise. "And that's not all, I'm afraid. While I was examining him, I saw something else. It was difficult to tell at first with so much new bruising, but there are quite distinct markings on his back; welts that could only come from a whip of sorts, most likely a belt."
Elladan swallowed hard. "He's sick. Glorfindel is sick." Elrohir could taste bile rising in his throat, but forced himself to focus on his earlier query. "What is going to happen to him?" "That is for Legolas to decide. If he chooses to bring charges against Glorfindel, I will of course give him all my support and sentence Glorfindel at a hearing." "And if he will not?" Elrond groaned quietly, knowing the answer was not one his son was going to like. "If that is the case, there is nothing I can do. I cannot interfere within a relationship unless Legolas makes a complaint. Proving what Glorfindel has been doing without Legolas' cooperation will be be impossible- there are no witnesses." Elrohir growled in indignation. "So we're just leaving it at that? Just sending him back to be beaten to a pulp again?" Elrond bit back his frustration at Elrohir's tone. "I have no choice Elrohir! I cannot prove this without Legolas."
Elrohir's chest ached. Legolas was going to go straight back to be used as a punch bag all over again. "We have many weeks until he is fit to return to his quarters, brother. Mayhap by then he will have changed his mind," Elladan put in gently, sensing his brother's pain. Elrohir looked up, nodding tiredly, to see Elrond giving him a strange look, almost as if seeing him only for the first time. It made him feel uncomfortable, exposed somehow, and he quickly turned away. "You may see him now, if you wish." "Aye, I would like that." He would feel better if he saw the prince with his own eyes.
They followed Elrond through the Healing House until they reached a door at the very back of the building, furthest from the main wards. Elrond opened it to reveal a private bedroom, small but comfortable. "I thought he would prefer an isolated room," he explained. The twins understood- the prince valued his privacy highly. Elrond beckoned them closer, and they gathered round the bed where their friend lay, sleeping peacefully.
"The sedative should last well into the morning," the loremaster murmured, "it will give him relief from the worst of the pain." Seeing Legolas like this, looking so pale and fragile, stirred long buried emotions within Elrohir. He felt an intense longing to reach out and touch the battered face, to soothe the poor abused body, to gently kiss the bruised lips.
Elrohir started. Where had that thought come from? Legolas was his best friend, he should not. But the more he gazed at the sleeping youth, the more his heart cried out for him. Elrohir wrenched his eyes away from the beauty lying on the bed, terrified he had been caught staring. To his chagrin, he saw the same knowing look on his father's face and flushed hotly, looking down at his feet. "Elladan, go tell Glorfindel that his lover has been injured and is being treated in the Healing Houses. Make clear that no visitors will be admitted at this time." "Yes father." Elladan smartly left the room, sensing the tension between his father and brother. Elrohir and Elrond were left alone, save for the sleeping prince. The younger elf was about to speak, but a look from his father silenced him immediately. "You love him." A statement, not a question. "I do." Elrond sighed. "This complicates matters. I know this may be hard to accept, pen-neth, but you must keep this attraction hidden." Elrohir was about to protest, but Elrond raised his hand, bidding him be silent. "I do not doubt your feelings are pure, but if you tell him of them while Legolas is still so vulnerable, and while his heart still belongs to Glorfindel, you risk losing his trust and friendship forever." Though he hated to admit it, Elrond's words were fair and reasonable. "I will say nothing of it." "Thank you for seeing reason, son. Just give it time- Legolas will be needing you greatly before long."
Elrohir realised he was being dismissed, and retreated towards the door as Elrond fussed with the sheets around Legolas' unconscious body. Hearing the door click behind him, Elrond laid a cool hand on Legolas' feverish brow. "May you see as clearly as my son, pen-neth, or you will be in for much anguish."
* * *
When Arien rose over Imladris the next morning, at least part of the Last Homely House was bustling with activity. Lord Elrond had already been up for hours; changing bandages and checking wounds on his royal patient; writing a letter to King Thranduil explaining his son had been injured, though he downplayed the severity of the wounds and gave no explanation as to how they came about; dispatching the message to Greenwood with his swiftest mounted messenger; thinking up suitable excuses to delay Glorfindel's seeing Legolas, and finally snatching a quick breakfast before heading back to the Healing House. It had been agreed that he and his sons would take turns in watching the slumbering prince. Though he might still sleep for hours yet, when the time came, the half elf didn't want Legolas to wake frightened and alone.
Elladan had stayed the night by the prince's side, and now it would soon be Elrohir's turn, but Elrond wanted to check on both his sons before he got some much-needed rest before his own shift later. The readiness with which both the twins agreed to sacrifice their time to help their friend filled the Lord's heart with pride and love; both had impressed him with their maturity this last day. And their support and friendship was something Legolas would definitely need in the coming weeks.
The Healing House was quiet when Elrond arrived; sickness was almost unknown to the Elvish race, and in times of peace such as this the healers only had occasional minor injuries to contend with. Well, usually, he thought wryly. Entering the prince's room, he was greeted by his eldest son's warm smile, sitting in the chair beside the injured elf's bed.
"Has he woken?" Elladan shook his head. "No; he tossed a little in his sleep, but didn't wake." Elrond nodded and laid a gentle but firm hand on his son's shoulder. "You should rest." "I will, when Elrohir comes. We shouldn't leave Legolas alone." Elrond gave the shoulder a squeeze. "He is lucky to have such caring friends." Elladan shook his head slowly. "We only reciprocate what he has done for us. He has always supported Elrohir and I, especially when Nana sailed." Sadness tinged his voice and he looked away, lost in memories. The awkward moment was rescued by Elrohir's quiet entry, causing both father and son to break out of their morbid reverie and turn towards the door. Elrohir closed the door carefully before crossing the room towards the bed. He was dressed simply and comfortably in a pale green tunic and leggings, and his hair hung loose and unbraided. His eyes went immediately to Legolas.
"Has he woken?" Elladan shook his head and rose, suppressing a yawn. "If you are here brother I will take my leave." He took his twin's hand and squeezed it tenderly, and smiled tiredly at his father. Elrond turned to his younger son. "Will you be alright on your own?" "Of course father, get some rest before your own turn this afternoon."
Elrohir ferried the two elves towards the door and sighed with relief, finally alone with the object of his affections. With the prince safely asleep, Elrohir could indulge his secret love, reaching out to gently stroke the soft blonde hair. Growing bolder when Legolas' breathing continued in the deep, slow rhythm of sleep, Elrohir allowed himself to bury his fingers deeper in the pale locks, gently massaging the scalp beneath. A soft murmur of pleasure sounded from the sleeping prince's lips, making Elrohir smile with satisfaction and grow more confident in his ministrations.
Removing his hand from the soft blonde tresses, he gently stroked down the side of Legolas' face, then traced his fingertips lightly over high cheekbones. Even bruised and bloodied, he mused, Legolas was still handsome. Leaning down gingerly, Elrohir brushed his lips softly over each eyelid. Feeling the prince stir beneath him, Elrohir quickly pulled back, panicked, praying he hadn't overstepped his limits. Legolas seemed to flit between sleep and consciousness for a moment, his eyes first blank, then filled with panic. He tried to sit up, eyes darting wildly, But Elrohir swiftly reached forward, gently pressing him down onto the mattress again.
"Shh, 'tis alright, you are safe." Legolas continued to struggle, seized with an instinctive fear. "Please, mellon, you will only hurt yourself further," Elrohir exclaimed desperately, fearing his internal injuries might be aggravated, "Lie still." Awareness returned to the prince's eyes. "Elrohir?" Legolas' voice was lost and anxious, and it made Elrohir's heart ache. "I'm here mellon, it's alright. Glorfindel will not hurt you here."
He saw the blonde lick his parched lips, and remembered his father's healing lessons. "Would you like a drink?" Legolas nodded dazedly, and Elrohir poured out some water from a jug on the commode into a glass. Sitting on the edge of the bed and carefully lifting his friend to sit up leaning against him, Elrohir pressed the glass to the blonde elf's lips and let him drink his fill. He set the glass back down on the commode and eased Legolas back down to lie flat again. To his chagrin, the injured elf was now resolutely avoiding his gaze. "You know, don't you." Elrohir was momentarily confused, before he realised what Legolas was talking about.
"Yes," he said simply, dropping his tone to match Legolas' whisper. "You must hate me." That one sentence held so much unspoken agony and self- disgust that Elrohir wanted to wrap the prince in his arms and kiss away his pain, but he contented himself with gently rubbing Legolas' knuckles, trying to reassure him. "No meldir, I could never hate you. None of this is your fault." Tears began to roll down Legolas' cheeks, and he quickly turned his face away.
Elrohir had known the other for more than two thousand years now, and never once, in all their time together, had he seen Legolas cry. Unable to stand seeing his love so miserable and dejected, he immediately moved to the bed, lifting Legolas off the pillows to lean against his own torso, the blonde's head resting between neck and shoulder. Elrohir held him as sobs wracked his slim frame, careful not to press against the prince's injured ribs. After a time, the sobs began to quieten, and Elrohir started to gently rock the body in his arms.
"Forgive my weakness.I." "There is nothing to forgive. Please Legolas, do not be ashamed of this, you are not to blame. Only Glorfindel is responsible for this, and he will be brought to justice." Legolas immediately squirmed in Elrohir's arms, turning to look up at the half-elf with eyes filled with alarm. "No! Please, I don't want anything to happen to him. He doesn't mean it." Elrohir's lips tightened in disappointment- even now Legolas refused to see the truth. "How long has it been happening?" Legolas turned away again, resting his head on Elrohir's shoulder. "Four years now. It used to be different, it was only when he started drinking." He tailed off, burying his face deeper into Elrohir's hair, taking comfort in his friend's embrace.
"Go on," Elrohir encouraged. "At first it was nothing- he started getting moody, we'd aregue over things more often. Then when he had a fight, sometimes he'd slap or hit me in fustration, but he always regretted it, promised he'd never do it again." He swallowed nervously. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be telling you this."
Elrohir placed a protective hand at the back of Legolas' head. "No, you should. You've kept this bottled up for far too long. Tell me everything." Relaxing slightly as fingers began carding through his hair, the blonde took a deep breath and continued. "Well, he began drinking during the day, which he had never done before. I don't mean a glass of wine at lunch- he started drinking spirits, and all through the day when no one was watching him. Fairly soon he was hitting me all the time, for no reason at all." A solitary tear escaped his eye and trickled slowly down his cheek.
"But it didn't stop there, did it? He didn't just hit you, did he?" A tremor coursed through Legolas' frame and he shook his head.
"After a while, he started having these violent rages, coming home late at night, smashing the furniture." He shivered, and Elrohir's arms tightened protectively. "He started. he started using his belt." Legolas' voice dropped so low Elrohir had to strain to hear it. "He would come home and want me to take off my robe, for no reason other than he wanted to hurt something. He hits me with it, on my shoulders, back, legs." He trailed off, blushing a deep red. How Elrohir must see him now.
Elrohir noted Legolas' unconscious use of the present tense, and continued stroking the blonde's hair sadly, offering whatever comfort he could. "I wish you'd told me, mellon," he whispered.
"I couldn't," Legolas choked out, "I was too ashamed, I thought no one would believe me, they wouldn't understand." Elrohir placed a chaste kiss on the crown of Legolas' head. "I believe you, I understand." He felt Legolas' body slump against him, worn out from the emotional strain of their conversation. "Come, rest now. We can talk another time."
Legolas nodded weakly and let himself be lowered to the mattress again, wincing slightly when the motion put stress on his injured ribs. Elrohir smoothed the coverlet around him and was about to move back to sit in his chair when Legolas covered his hand with his own, looking up with anguish in his eyes. "He doesn't mean it, really he doesn't. It's the drink, he doesn't mean to hurt me, he loves me." Elrohir sighed, gentling his touch even further as he tucked the coverlet up to the blonde's shoulders and laid a soothing hand on his forehead. "Sleep," he murmured quietly, as Legolas' tired eyes glazed over.
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Chapter 6
Elrohir padded quietly down the corridor, fearful that his footsteps might disturb the prince's sleep should he walk any louder. He had left Legolas sleeping to go seek out his father, eager to tell him of the blonde's story, and was now anxious to return to his side. His father had seemed vaguely troubled at everything he told him, but reassured Elrohir that Legolas' agreement to talk about it was a big step in the right direction. If he could gain the prince's unconditional trust, it would be easier to convince Legolas in the end that Glorfindel was insane and dangerous. Talking had also eased the burden of shame and repressed emotion Legolas had been carrying over the years.
Elrohir stopped suddenly outside Legolas' door- he could hear the low murmur of two voices, one Legolas' and the other.
Cursing himself for every sort of fool, Elrohir yanked open the door without knocking. How could he have let this happen? There in front of him, sitting in *his* chair by the bedside, was Glorfindel. A neat pile of clothing which Elrohir recognised to be Legolas' lay stacked on the dresser, along with a few books and the beautiful silver hairbrush and mirror the prince owned, a prized memento of his departed mother. A fresh bouquet of flowers had been arranged on the windowsill- Glorfindel was positively oozing charm and concern. He gave Elrohir a careful, searching look before quickly breaking out in a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Elrohir," he said, voice smooth and unhurried, "What a pleasant surprise. I must thank you for your excellent care of Legolas." Beside him on the bed, Legolas smiled contentedly as the blonde lord's fingers carded easily through his hair. //He's buying it!// Elrohir thought furiously, //he really believes Glorfindel is going to going to change overnight.// It took all his will to keep his hands from clenching into fists and maintain a blank expression, but he just about managed it. Not trusting his voice, he simply nodded.
"I just wanted to check he was aright, bring him a few things from our quarters." Glorfindel's hand now stroked up and down the length of his lover's ear, making Legolas purr and lean into the touch. Elrohir felt hypnotised, his eyes rooted to the spot where long slender fingers ran teasingly over the delicate tip of the prince's ear, a sensitive erogenous zone. A prickle of a foreign emotion tauted at his mind- jealously, he realised with a start. He wanted to be the one touching that white skin, giving him pleasure. Elrohir mentally shook himself, making his mind focus on the situation at hand. "That was kind of you Glorfindel, however, we are anxious that the prince rests to recover his strength."
Taking the hint, Glorfindel's smile became even more forced and he rose from the chair. Bending down to kiss Legolas, he spoke softly into the prince's ear. "I will return as soon as I can, nin-bain." Legolas nodded and his eyes followed the lord adoringly as he made his way to the door. Flashing an almost desperate look at Elrohir, he waited until Glorfindel's footsteps had faded before he spoke.
"I told you, he loves me. He brought me all this," he gestured at the clothes and flowers, "to make me more comfortable. He told me how sorry he is, and promised he'll never touch another drop of wine again." Legolas beamed. "He's going now to pour away all the bottles in our chambers!"
Watching Legolas naively convince himself that Glorfindel would change was too much for Elrohir. It made him want to weep and shout and shake the prince hard by the shoulders all at the same time, but he remained silent, not meeting the blonde's eyes.
The false cheeriness in Legolas' face crumpled, and he looked down blushing at the sheets, fighting the lump in his throat. Even to himself his arguments sounded ridiculous. He let Elrohir tuck the blankets around him again, still averting his eyes from his friend's deep grey ones. He closed them and turned his face towards the wall, preying for sleep and oblivion to claim him, when Elrohir's soft voice cut across his tangled thoughts.
"Just remember Legolas, no matter what, if you ever wake up one day and realise you need out, if you ever need me, I'll be there for you." Hot, guilty tears slid down Legolas' face, and he buried his face further into the soft pillow, hiding them from view. He cursed his cowardice as he feigned sleep, but this was a conversation he wasn't ready to have.
* * *
Elrohir had sat watching Legolas for over an hour since the subtle change in breathing had marked the transition from consciousness to true sleep. He knew Legolas had only pretended to sleep, but decided, this time at least, not to call him on it. His friend needed rest and quiet now, not a grilling. Speaking of which, Elrohir reminded himself, he was due to face his own grilling when his father returned to take his watch. Explaining how Glorfindel had been allowed access to the prince despite Elrond's explicit orders that he be kept out for the moment was not going to be easy.
As if acting on an invisible cue, a rustle of robes heralded his father's entrance. Elrohir groaned inwardly; could things get any worse? Gingerly, he turned to face Elrond. "Ada? I need to talk to you." Elrond was alarmed by his son's stricken face, his mind silently running through a list of possible catastrophes, but he kept his voice completely calm. "What is the matter, son?" Elrohir bit his lip, looking almost reluctant to speak. Like he used to as an elfling, Elrond reflected, when he had been caught doing something he should not. He braced himself for whatever the news might be.
"Ada, I'm sorry, but. but when I came back to see you this morning, I completely forgot I musn't leave Legolas unattended. By the time I returned, Glorfindel was already here, promising Legolas the earth. He even brought flowers-" he gestured, distressed, at the niphrodel and roses on the windowsill. "I'm sorry Adar, it is all my fault."
Elrond groaned inwardly; this was bad news indeed. He hadn't wanted Glorfindel anywhere near the prince until he himself had got the chance to undo some of the brainwashing that Legolas had suffered at the older warrior's hands. Now Legolas had seen Glorfindel and doubtless succumbed to his charm again, convincing the prince to leave him would be more difficult.
Elrohir looked so dejected and guilty however, Elrond hadn't the heart to be angry. His expression softened as he laid his hand atop his son's. "Accidents happen, pen-neth, don't torment yourself. But may this serve as a lesson, to remind you never to let your concentration slip while on duty. Just do not leave Legolas alone again, until I tell you it is safe to do so." Elrohir nodded, some of the tension lifting from his shoulders, and looking considerably relieved. "Besides," Elrond continued, a shade of guilt colouring his voic, "I also played a part in this lapse. I should have thought of the consequences of your coming to my study. It didn't occur to me when we talked this morning that I would be taking you from his side."
Elrohir looked appalled at the thought that his faher should feel himself to blame, and was opening his mouth to utter a denial of any guilt on Elrond's part, when his father quickly silenced him with a commanding look, Elrohir shrinking back meekly into his seat.
"However," the lore master continued, "that is not the matter in hand. We can no longer keep Glorfindel away from his side if Legolas wants to see him, but we must be vigilant- watch for any signs that he may try to harm Legolas. I will also speak with Legolas; perhaps over time I can erode Glorfindel' conditioning and make him see the truth. I have had much experience treating emotional and mental health problems." "Thank you father." Elrohir felt better now he knew Elrond would be treating his friend, even if Legolas didn't realise what was happening. He rose from his chair, stretching his stiff, weary limbs, and stood aside to allow his father to take his place. Bowing his head in respect, he departed, going to rest in preparation for his next session with the prince.
Elrond began settling himself when he noticed a drop of red blood seeping through one of the many clean white bandages Legolas wore. Frowning, he immediately fetched fresh bandages, a knife, and a selection of herbs with useful healing properties from the cupboard opposite the window, and came to stand by the bed. Carefully cutting away the offending bandage, Lord Elrond was alarmed to find that beneath had reopened and was bleeding again. Lifting his right hand to hover almost touching the open wound, Elrond took a deep breath, focusing his energy, letting it flow through Vilya into the prince.
Vilya glowed and grew hot, channelling Elrond's own healing abilities into Legolas, causing the wound to close and the blood to stop. When satisfied with the result, Elrond closed his mind, severing the connection. Pausing to let the dizziness to subside, he slowly lowered his hand and began to carefully apply herbs to the area where the wound once lay, an ugly bruise now the only reminder of it's former presence.
He wrapped another white linen bandage round Legolas' waist, securing it with a pin. The skin was hot to the touch, making Elrond reach for the prince's forehead anxiously. The skin beneath his hand was burning up, and a small whimper of pain escaped Legolas' lips. Elrond quickly returned to the cupboard and drew out several packets of herbs, before setting the window wide open, letting a cool breeze into the room. Filling the kettle above the fire, he set about preparing the herbs for a healing tea. Legolas shuddered quietly beside him, and he hastened to the fireplace to retrieve the hot water. He poured the water over the herbs, and left the mixture to infuse in the cup as he doused the fire. Another soft whimper from Legolas, and Elrond placed a hand on the prince's shoulder, squeezing gently and calling his name. Legolas' eyelids flickered and awareness entered the blue orbs, along with a mixture of confusion and pain. He looked around wildly before his eyes locked with Elrond's.
"It's alright, pen-neth, you are safe," Elrond coaxed, his voice low and gentle, as if he spoke to a frightened forest creature, not an elf he had known for centuries. Seeking to reassure him, Elrond quietly began rubbing the knuckles on Legolas' right hand, hoping the action might relax him. "I've made you some tea- it should help with the pain. You will be in pain for some time I'm afraid."
He left his ministrations to pick up the tea, turning back in time to see Legolas flinch and bite his lip to keep from crying out as another wave of pain coursed through his body. Carefully propping him up on the cushions, Elrond held the cup to the blonde's lips, encouraging him to drink the hot tea. The taste was bitter but Legolas forced it down, preferring it to the agony consuming his body at that moment. When the cup was drained, Elrond placed a hand on the prince's brow again, checking his temperature again.
"Where does it hurt the most, Legolas?" Legolas twitched again. "Chest. it burns," he gasped out, trying to concentrate on Elrond's words. Where was Glorfindel? Why wasn't he here, comforting him? Why did he do this to him in the first place. Love wasn't supposed to be like this. A pain that was nothing to do with his cracked ribs gripped his heart, almost making Legolas cry out with its intensity. "It's not supposed to be like this," he whispered aloud.
Ever astute, Elrond immediately understood his meaning, and seized the chance to get through to the elf he had come to view as a son. "No one would think any less of you pen-neth. This is a form of abuse. Don't keep this inside." Legolas looked almost panicked and Elrond quickly continued. "If ever the time comes when you need a way out, know that I will support you no matter what."
At his last words, Elrond was certain he saw a flicker of longing in Legolas' eyes, but in an instant it was gone. Looking down at the coverlet again, Legolas spoke so quietly Elrond had to lean forward to catch his words. "Please, I would like to sleep again now." Elrond swallowed his disappointment. "As you wish."
Crossing to the cupboard again, he slid open a drawer and removed a small cone of incense, a tiny dish, and a box of matches. Silently, he placed the cone in the middle of the dish and lit the tip, blowing out the flame and leaving the cone to smoulder, producing a delicate purple smoke. Immune to its effects after many thousands of years of exposure, Elrond returned to Legolas' bedside with the quick-burning incense and held it a few inches beneath the prince's nose. "Breathe deeply," he instructed. Legolas complied and before long his eyelids began to droop. Soon they were closed in the deep healing sleep induced by the poppy incense.
Elrond set the dish on the commode and let the remainder of the incense burn itself out. He was a little disappointed at Legolas' refusal of his offer of help, though he hadn't truly expected him to take him up on it. What was important was that he knew help was at hand if he needed it, and judging from the fleeting expression Elrond had caught on the blonde's face, the first seeds of doubt had been sown in his mind.
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Chapter 7
Six weeks had passed since the harrowing day that would be forever etched in Elrohir's mind, images of the battered prince still haunting him. Since then, he had spent more time with Legolas than ever before, helping to relieve the excruciating boredom of confinement in a sick room for weeks on end. He had started off reading and talking to him, helping him to eat, wash and dress. Then as the blonde healed and became more independent, able to sit up alone and move his arms without pain, they played chess and checkers for hours on end. Over the last two weeks the pair had walked together in the hospital gardens, letting Legolas stretch his stiff limbs.
Elrohir grew closer to Legolas than he ever imagined he would; listening to him talk of his family, of living in the shadow of his many brothers, and even a little about the beginnings of his relationship with Glorfindel. Elrohir in turn told him of pain at his at his mother's absence, his guilt at not finding her sooner, and his feelings that his father had distanced himself from Elladan and he since her passing; things he had not even told Elladan, his twin and the other half of his soul.
The more time they spent together, the more his secret, unrequited love gnawed painfully at his heart. At night his dreams were possessed by gold hair and hot, smooth skin, setting his entire body aflame. Every inch of him felt drawn tight as a bowstring, but he knew his longing for the prince was more than base lust. Imladris' temperate summer felt grey and lifeless when the prince wasn't by his side to enjoy it. However, Legolas was oblivious to his most ardent admirer; there were others seeking to hold his heart.
Throughout the six weeks Legolas spent recuperating, Glorfindel had been the most attentive of lovers- kind and considerate, visiting frequently and spending and spending hours by the prince's side, showering him with gifts. Again and again he swore he would change, that he would stop drinking, would never lift a hand to Legolas again.
Legolas consented to give him another chance immediately, happily agreeing to Glorfindel's plea for him to move back to their shared quarters as soon as he was able to leave the healing wing. Elrohir did not share the prince's faith, however; his suspicions ran too deep for him to swallow Glorfindel's earnestly delivered promises. He knew from experience that some things in life never change.
He watched as the prince's deft fingers ran the brush through gold strands, easing out invisible knots and leaving his hair a shining, silken mass. From his seat on the bed Elrohir longed to reach up and touch it, but held himself firmly in check, focusing his mind of Legolas' forthcoming departure. Elrond had examined the blonde and declared that providing he rested and was careful not to over-exert himself, Legolas was free to return to his own chambers.
Elrond had spent long hours with the prince these last weeks, talking about Glorfindel, but apparently to no avail, as Legolas jumped at the chance to return to his lover. Elrohir helped pack his possessions with a heavy heart and now sat waiting with the prince for Lord Glorfindel to collect him and bring him home.
The silence in the room was deafening, and after a time, Elrohir could bear it no longer. "Don't go back to him, please mellon." Legolas turned to face him, wearing a wistful expression. "I know you must think me weak, Elrohir, and I am. I love him; I'm sorry, but I do. He's going to change for me El, he promised."
Elrohir shook his head sorrowfully. "People don't change overnight, Legolas."
Legolas looked set to reply when Glorfindel stepping into the room, a benevolent smile gracing his features, interrupted them. Elrohir looked up waspishly- the oaf hadn't even knocked. The blonde lord bent down to kiss Legolas, and the flicker of irritation in Elrohir flared up into anger, making his lips thin dangerously and his fists clench the bed sheets. How dare he? That brute wasn't fit to tie the laces on Legolas' boot after what he did to him.
Glorfindel broke the kiss, and looked up as if seeing Elrohir for the first time. Amusement played across his face for a moment, then a gloating smile fixed itself on his features, mocking Elrohir's obvious jealousy. "Thank you for taking such good care of him, pen-neth," Glorfindel drawled, "it is nice to see such a devoted friend." Elrohir prickled a little at the extra emphasis on the word 'friend.' That bastard knew. Glorfindel smirked and turned to a now-confused Legolas, and picked up the prince's small suitcase. "Come, love." Legolas rose and Glorfindel immediately wrapped a possessive arm round his waist. As his lover guided him to the door, Legolas craned his neck round to shoot an apologetic glance in Elrohir's direction. He was able to whisper 'thank you' as Glorfindel ferried him out into the corridor, then the door shut behind him. He felt Glorfindelgive his waist a squeeze, and let himself be directed, hardly seeing, to their chambers.
Once inside, Legolas began to relax. Familiarity set him at ease, and he breathed deeply, inhaling his lover's musky scent in the air. After weeks in the Healing House, it was a relief to be surrounded by home comforts once again. Glorfindel took his small bag through to their bedroom, and Legolas carefully lowered himself into a chair, his injuries still limiting his movements. He sighed with relief as he sunk back into the upholstery- he was amazed how tired he felt after such a short journey from his sick room. Legolas was looking forward to a nice, long, hot bath to ease his aching muscles, and a few hours simply enjoying his lover's company.
Glorfindel re-entered and circled round to stand behind Legolas. His arms snaked down to the prince's shoulders, hands kneading the muscles beneath. Legolas sighed blissfully and relaxed, blotting out all thoughts save those focusing on the pleasant sensations.
Glorfindel's hands worked out the tension in his neck, then moved round to the front and slid down to rest just beneath Legolas' collarbones. Legolas made a soft, disappointed noise when he felt the massage stop and looked up questioningly at his lover. Glorfindel chuckled softly, and proceeded to tease the pointed tip of Legolas' ear, distracting him while the Elda spoke.
"I'm afraid I must leave you now, I still have a pile of paperwork awaiting me in my office. Elrond has not reduced my duties as seneschal any, despitre my request that he allow me to spen more time wit you as you recover."
From within a haze of pleasure, Legolas was able to make out the general idea of his lover's sentence, and looked up sharply, dismayed. "But I thought- ooh." Legolas moaned as Glorfindel stepped up his assault on his ear. Glorfindel smirked, watching him writhing in his seat, and knowing he was the one controlling him. Legolas felt his member stir- it had been far too long, and his body was eager to release the tension that had built up during his stay in the Healing house.
Glorfindel reached for the laces of Legolas' tunic, untying them and pulling the tunic open. His fingers slid down, circling the pink nipples revealed to them, and Legolas' breath hitched. Glorfindel rolled the pink nubs between his fingers, making them stand out like berries and causing the prince to gasp and squirm. Suddenly he pinched them gently and Legolas mewled, hips bucking blindly and his hands clenching the arms of the chair.
Glorfindel's smirk grew as he saw his young lover spread his legs on the seat to accommodate the growing weight between his thighs. Abruptly, he removed his hands and stepped away from the chair, leaving Legolas reeling. The prince moaned in displeasure and turned desperately towards his tormentor, begging silently for him to finish the job.
The Elda simply smiled innocently, reaching for his cloak. "I shall return this evening. Until then, make yourself at home, try to rest."
He turned on his heel and walked smartly to the door. Just as he was about to twist the handle, Glorfindel looked briefly back to Legolas, whose hand was creeping down towards the source of his tension. "Oh, and you are not allowed to touch yourself while I am gone. Only I am allowed to bring you release. I want you ready and wanting for my return." With that he left the room, leaving a needy and frustrated Legolas gaping after him in disbelief. Not allowed to tounch himself? His arousal twitched again and he groaned. His whole body felt aflame, all sensation seemed to be focused in the arousal between his legs.
There was only one thing for it. He rose from the chair, biting back a moan when the fabric of his breeches rubbed against his erection. Walking awkwardly to the bathroom, he braced himself for the discomfort of a *very* cold bath
* * *
Elladan watched his twin out of the corner of his eye, as he had done since they sat down to dinner with Elrond. So far, he noted, Elrohir had cut all his food into small pieces, pushed the pieces aimlessly around his plate, and speared the odd lump of meat with his fork, but a single piece had yet to actually find its way into his mouth.
Erestor was talking animatedly on Elrohir's right about new defence plans he hoped to implement in the coming autumn, but Elladan could tell from the look on his twin's face that he hadn't actually heard a single word of the councillor's prattle. In fact, Elrohir hardly even seemed aware of the presence of the other diners, so lost in his thoughts was he.
After a time, Elrohir rose and begged permission to leave the table. Elrond, distracted by juggling three conversations simultaneously, was quick to grant it, and Elrohir scurried out of the noisy dining room. Elladan immediately followed suit and hastened after his brother. He followed silently through the Great Hall and into the South Wing, a labyrinth of winding corridors.
He soon lost sight of Elrohir, and came to a fork in the hallway, two identical, empty corridors leading in opposite directions. Hesitating, he considered his brother's likely cause of action. His room was in the West Wing, so the only reasons he might be coming here were either the public baths, or.
Elladan grinned triumphantly; confident he knew where his brother would be. Picking the left fork, he sped silently down the corridor until he came to a set of double doors; dark mahogany set with stained glass. Pushing them open, he stepped out into the cool evening breeze, enjoying the feel of it caressing his skin. He knew exactly where to go.
Walking through the trees and bushes, Elladan came to a halt on the edge of a clearing. Sure enough, there inside their mother's private garden, was Elrohir. He at on a stone bench beside a lilac tree- their mother's favourite- with shoulders slumped. It was a place he always came to when troubled or sad, drawing some small comfort in the happy memories the place held. It was a small piece of Lothlorien here in Imladris, and Celebrían had spent hours during her time in the valley tending it. Elladan had lost count of the number of times he's found his younger twin sitting here in the months immediately after Celebrían sailed, clinging desperately to this last part of his mother he had left.
Elladan crossed quietly to sit beside his brother. He placed a hand lightly on Elrohir's knee, and looked into his brother's troubled face. Elrohir gave no response, still staring out across the grass. "You've been tense, distracted of late. You're not eating, you've been so listless- I'm worried for you. Please brother, tell me what is wrong."
Elrohir's face remained blank, and he spoke not a word. "Please Elrohir, talk to me." Elrohir turned, the first indication that he had even acknowledged Elladan's presence. "It's nothing." Elladan raised an incredulous eyebrow. "It is clearly not nothing. Elrohir, tell me." Elrohir gave a deep, melodramatic sigh, and his face contorted as if in pain. "You must swear never to tell another soul. Promise me Elladan!" When Elladan nodded tentatively, Elrohir continued, a tormented look in his grey eyes.
"I'm in love with Legolas."
Elladan's jaw visibly dropped, eyes widening in shock. "How long?" he blurted out. "Long enough." Sadness tinged Elrohir's voice. "I'm worried about him, Ell, I really am. Glorfindel hasn't changed, he's just using Legolas! I don't trust him."
He calmed himself, swallowing and breathing heavily, voice dropping. "Legolas' heart will break, Elladan. And I will fade soon after." Elladan sat up in alarm, seeing his brother anew. "Elrohir, come, you can't be serious. Besides, perhaps we should give Glorfindel a chance. He really may have changed for the better." Elrohir looked up bitterly. "He's never going to change, Ell. Today I saw him out walking the corridors when he was supposed to be home, caring for Legolas- Ada even gave all his duties to Erestor! He doesn't care about him."
Elladan winced at the anger and resentment in his twin's voice, and squeezed his knee reassuringly. "Elrohir, Glorfindel may simply have been fetching him some food from the kitchens, you just do not know." He smiled placating. "Give him a chance brother. Anyway, perhaps this is just a passing infatuation." A new thought struck him. "Are you sure you aren't letting your emotions cloud your judgement?"
"I suppose," said Elrohir, not sounding at all convinced. He looked into the distance again, surveying his mother's sanctuary. "I think I would like to be alone now, brother." Stung, Elladan nodded silently and left the garden. They had shared everything before now, and it hurt that Elrohir would shut him out of this.
That night, in his room next to Elrohir's he tossed and turned, unable to sleep, and by the time dawn had broken over the valley, he still had not heard his brother coming in.
Author: Quellecristiel
Author's Email: quellecristiel@yahoo.co.uk
Pairings: Legolas/Glorfindel, eventual Legolas/Elrohir
Rating: R
Summary: Legolas is being abused by his lover, but he loves him too much to leave
Disclaimer: You know the drill, I don't own anything but two paperclips, a pen and a notepad
WARNING: Violence, Rape, OOC Glorfindel, AU (no ring)
Authors Note: I really do rather like Glorfindel, and he's lovely in my other fic, Healing, (soon to be published in Skyfire's zine), but I needed somebody to be the bad guy this time, and I don't like bringing in original characters. I'm sorry to all the Glorfindel fans out there! If you do like this fic, please review and make a poor little slash writer's day...
just in case you missed it.
WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS DOMESTIC ABUSE, RAPE AND BDSM. IF YOU OBJECT TO THESE TOPICS PLEASE DO NOT READ
Please don't flame, and get upset over the rating/content etc. I have posted adequate warning and explained the content of this story, it is your choice to read it or not. Constructive criticism however is welcome- you can't improve without knowing your failings (
Special thanks go to Cheysuli, whose challenge this is the result of, and to my wonderful beta reader Niana Yuy.
(thank you both so much!)
Chapter 5
Elrohir fidgeted restlessly in his brother's arms, growing ever more frustrated. He had been waiting for news of Legolas for hours now, pacing the floor liked a caged beast until his twin could bear it no longer and drew him down into a tight embrace. Soothing hands gently massaged his shoulders, trying unsuccessfully to work out the knots of tension in the muscles there. Admitting defeat, Elladan wrapped one arm around his brother's waist, and with the other began rubbing slow circles on his tense back.
"Relax brother. Fretting and pacing will not make the healers work any faster." Elrohir exhaled deeply, shutting his eyes and leaning back into the embrace. "I wish they would come. I cannot get his image out of my mind; blood everywhere." He shivered. "Hush, try not to think about that now, it will only cause you unnecessary anguish. Legolas will be alright, Ada is looking after him." Elrohir nodded, snuggling his head beneath the older twin's chin.
It was like this that Elrond found them more than an hour later, still taking comfort in one another's nearness. As soon as he heard his father enter, Elrohir quickly disentangled himself, eager for a status report on the prince.
Elrond looked tired and drained, and blood stained his otherwise pristine white healing robes, turning the twins pale. He paused taking in their anxious faces, before finally putting them out of their misery. "He will live," he said softly, provoking identical sighs of relief from the twins. "He wasn't as seriously injured as I initially feared, but the damage is still quite extensive- there is severe internal bruising, although the bleeding has been stopped, and three of his ribs are broken. One of them punctured a lung, which was why he was spitting up blood- he nearly drowned in his own blood."
Elladan winced at his father's graphic description, while Elrohir fought the rising nausea. Elrond came to rest his hand on Elrohir's shoulder. "He will need several weeks in bed to recover- it was only due to the power of Vilya that he yet lives. He will also be in much pain. Legolas is unused to being an invalid- he will need both of you to support him." "We will, father," Elladan vowed. Elrond smild affectionately, resting his free hand on his eldest son's head. "You are both good boys, I am proud of you." But Elrohir remained unsatisfied. "But Ada, what about Glorfindel? Shouldn't he be punished for this? Legolas nearly died!" Elladan's brow creased in confusion. "Glorfindel? You think he did this?"
Elrond sighed, unable to put this off any longer. "We have reason to believe this is his doing, yes, and that it is not the first time either." Elrohir took over. "You remember when Legolas broke his wrist?" Elladan nodded dumbly. "And the day at the training field, when he was covered in bruises?" Elladan looked shocked. "You mean he's been doing this for-" "Years, probably," his father put in, and even Elrohir turned to him in surprise. "And that's not all, I'm afraid. While I was examining him, I saw something else. It was difficult to tell at first with so much new bruising, but there are quite distinct markings on his back; welts that could only come from a whip of sorts, most likely a belt."
Elladan swallowed hard. "He's sick. Glorfindel is sick." Elrohir could taste bile rising in his throat, but forced himself to focus on his earlier query. "What is going to happen to him?" "That is for Legolas to decide. If he chooses to bring charges against Glorfindel, I will of course give him all my support and sentence Glorfindel at a hearing." "And if he will not?" Elrond groaned quietly, knowing the answer was not one his son was going to like. "If that is the case, there is nothing I can do. I cannot interfere within a relationship unless Legolas makes a complaint. Proving what Glorfindel has been doing without Legolas' cooperation will be be impossible- there are no witnesses." Elrohir growled in indignation. "So we're just leaving it at that? Just sending him back to be beaten to a pulp again?" Elrond bit back his frustration at Elrohir's tone. "I have no choice Elrohir! I cannot prove this without Legolas."
Elrohir's chest ached. Legolas was going to go straight back to be used as a punch bag all over again. "We have many weeks until he is fit to return to his quarters, brother. Mayhap by then he will have changed his mind," Elladan put in gently, sensing his brother's pain. Elrohir looked up, nodding tiredly, to see Elrond giving him a strange look, almost as if seeing him only for the first time. It made him feel uncomfortable, exposed somehow, and he quickly turned away. "You may see him now, if you wish." "Aye, I would like that." He would feel better if he saw the prince with his own eyes.
They followed Elrond through the Healing House until they reached a door at the very back of the building, furthest from the main wards. Elrond opened it to reveal a private bedroom, small but comfortable. "I thought he would prefer an isolated room," he explained. The twins understood- the prince valued his privacy highly. Elrond beckoned them closer, and they gathered round the bed where their friend lay, sleeping peacefully.
"The sedative should last well into the morning," the loremaster murmured, "it will give him relief from the worst of the pain." Seeing Legolas like this, looking so pale and fragile, stirred long buried emotions within Elrohir. He felt an intense longing to reach out and touch the battered face, to soothe the poor abused body, to gently kiss the bruised lips.
Elrohir started. Where had that thought come from? Legolas was his best friend, he should not. But the more he gazed at the sleeping youth, the more his heart cried out for him. Elrohir wrenched his eyes away from the beauty lying on the bed, terrified he had been caught staring. To his chagrin, he saw the same knowing look on his father's face and flushed hotly, looking down at his feet. "Elladan, go tell Glorfindel that his lover has been injured and is being treated in the Healing Houses. Make clear that no visitors will be admitted at this time." "Yes father." Elladan smartly left the room, sensing the tension between his father and brother. Elrohir and Elrond were left alone, save for the sleeping prince. The younger elf was about to speak, but a look from his father silenced him immediately. "You love him." A statement, not a question. "I do." Elrond sighed. "This complicates matters. I know this may be hard to accept, pen-neth, but you must keep this attraction hidden." Elrohir was about to protest, but Elrond raised his hand, bidding him be silent. "I do not doubt your feelings are pure, but if you tell him of them while Legolas is still so vulnerable, and while his heart still belongs to Glorfindel, you risk losing his trust and friendship forever." Though he hated to admit it, Elrond's words were fair and reasonable. "I will say nothing of it." "Thank you for seeing reason, son. Just give it time- Legolas will be needing you greatly before long."
Elrohir realised he was being dismissed, and retreated towards the door as Elrond fussed with the sheets around Legolas' unconscious body. Hearing the door click behind him, Elrond laid a cool hand on Legolas' feverish brow. "May you see as clearly as my son, pen-neth, or you will be in for much anguish."
* * *
When Arien rose over Imladris the next morning, at least part of the Last Homely House was bustling with activity. Lord Elrond had already been up for hours; changing bandages and checking wounds on his royal patient; writing a letter to King Thranduil explaining his son had been injured, though he downplayed the severity of the wounds and gave no explanation as to how they came about; dispatching the message to Greenwood with his swiftest mounted messenger; thinking up suitable excuses to delay Glorfindel's seeing Legolas, and finally snatching a quick breakfast before heading back to the Healing House. It had been agreed that he and his sons would take turns in watching the slumbering prince. Though he might still sleep for hours yet, when the time came, the half elf didn't want Legolas to wake frightened and alone.
Elladan had stayed the night by the prince's side, and now it would soon be Elrohir's turn, but Elrond wanted to check on both his sons before he got some much-needed rest before his own shift later. The readiness with which both the twins agreed to sacrifice their time to help their friend filled the Lord's heart with pride and love; both had impressed him with their maturity this last day. And their support and friendship was something Legolas would definitely need in the coming weeks.
The Healing House was quiet when Elrond arrived; sickness was almost unknown to the Elvish race, and in times of peace such as this the healers only had occasional minor injuries to contend with. Well, usually, he thought wryly. Entering the prince's room, he was greeted by his eldest son's warm smile, sitting in the chair beside the injured elf's bed.
"Has he woken?" Elladan shook his head. "No; he tossed a little in his sleep, but didn't wake." Elrond nodded and laid a gentle but firm hand on his son's shoulder. "You should rest." "I will, when Elrohir comes. We shouldn't leave Legolas alone." Elrond gave the shoulder a squeeze. "He is lucky to have such caring friends." Elladan shook his head slowly. "We only reciprocate what he has done for us. He has always supported Elrohir and I, especially when Nana sailed." Sadness tinged his voice and he looked away, lost in memories. The awkward moment was rescued by Elrohir's quiet entry, causing both father and son to break out of their morbid reverie and turn towards the door. Elrohir closed the door carefully before crossing the room towards the bed. He was dressed simply and comfortably in a pale green tunic and leggings, and his hair hung loose and unbraided. His eyes went immediately to Legolas.
"Has he woken?" Elladan shook his head and rose, suppressing a yawn. "If you are here brother I will take my leave." He took his twin's hand and squeezed it tenderly, and smiled tiredly at his father. Elrond turned to his younger son. "Will you be alright on your own?" "Of course father, get some rest before your own turn this afternoon."
Elrohir ferried the two elves towards the door and sighed with relief, finally alone with the object of his affections. With the prince safely asleep, Elrohir could indulge his secret love, reaching out to gently stroke the soft blonde hair. Growing bolder when Legolas' breathing continued in the deep, slow rhythm of sleep, Elrohir allowed himself to bury his fingers deeper in the pale locks, gently massaging the scalp beneath. A soft murmur of pleasure sounded from the sleeping prince's lips, making Elrohir smile with satisfaction and grow more confident in his ministrations.
Removing his hand from the soft blonde tresses, he gently stroked down the side of Legolas' face, then traced his fingertips lightly over high cheekbones. Even bruised and bloodied, he mused, Legolas was still handsome. Leaning down gingerly, Elrohir brushed his lips softly over each eyelid. Feeling the prince stir beneath him, Elrohir quickly pulled back, panicked, praying he hadn't overstepped his limits. Legolas seemed to flit between sleep and consciousness for a moment, his eyes first blank, then filled with panic. He tried to sit up, eyes darting wildly, But Elrohir swiftly reached forward, gently pressing him down onto the mattress again.
"Shh, 'tis alright, you are safe." Legolas continued to struggle, seized with an instinctive fear. "Please, mellon, you will only hurt yourself further," Elrohir exclaimed desperately, fearing his internal injuries might be aggravated, "Lie still." Awareness returned to the prince's eyes. "Elrohir?" Legolas' voice was lost and anxious, and it made Elrohir's heart ache. "I'm here mellon, it's alright. Glorfindel will not hurt you here."
He saw the blonde lick his parched lips, and remembered his father's healing lessons. "Would you like a drink?" Legolas nodded dazedly, and Elrohir poured out some water from a jug on the commode into a glass. Sitting on the edge of the bed and carefully lifting his friend to sit up leaning against him, Elrohir pressed the glass to the blonde elf's lips and let him drink his fill. He set the glass back down on the commode and eased Legolas back down to lie flat again. To his chagrin, the injured elf was now resolutely avoiding his gaze. "You know, don't you." Elrohir was momentarily confused, before he realised what Legolas was talking about.
"Yes," he said simply, dropping his tone to match Legolas' whisper. "You must hate me." That one sentence held so much unspoken agony and self- disgust that Elrohir wanted to wrap the prince in his arms and kiss away his pain, but he contented himself with gently rubbing Legolas' knuckles, trying to reassure him. "No meldir, I could never hate you. None of this is your fault." Tears began to roll down Legolas' cheeks, and he quickly turned his face away.
Elrohir had known the other for more than two thousand years now, and never once, in all their time together, had he seen Legolas cry. Unable to stand seeing his love so miserable and dejected, he immediately moved to the bed, lifting Legolas off the pillows to lean against his own torso, the blonde's head resting between neck and shoulder. Elrohir held him as sobs wracked his slim frame, careful not to press against the prince's injured ribs. After a time, the sobs began to quieten, and Elrohir started to gently rock the body in his arms.
"Forgive my weakness.I." "There is nothing to forgive. Please Legolas, do not be ashamed of this, you are not to blame. Only Glorfindel is responsible for this, and he will be brought to justice." Legolas immediately squirmed in Elrohir's arms, turning to look up at the half-elf with eyes filled with alarm. "No! Please, I don't want anything to happen to him. He doesn't mean it." Elrohir's lips tightened in disappointment- even now Legolas refused to see the truth. "How long has it been happening?" Legolas turned away again, resting his head on Elrohir's shoulder. "Four years now. It used to be different, it was only when he started drinking." He tailed off, burying his face deeper into Elrohir's hair, taking comfort in his friend's embrace.
"Go on," Elrohir encouraged. "At first it was nothing- he started getting moody, we'd aregue over things more often. Then when he had a fight, sometimes he'd slap or hit me in fustration, but he always regretted it, promised he'd never do it again." He swallowed nervously. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be telling you this."
Elrohir placed a protective hand at the back of Legolas' head. "No, you should. You've kept this bottled up for far too long. Tell me everything." Relaxing slightly as fingers began carding through his hair, the blonde took a deep breath and continued. "Well, he began drinking during the day, which he had never done before. I don't mean a glass of wine at lunch- he started drinking spirits, and all through the day when no one was watching him. Fairly soon he was hitting me all the time, for no reason at all." A solitary tear escaped his eye and trickled slowly down his cheek.
"But it didn't stop there, did it? He didn't just hit you, did he?" A tremor coursed through Legolas' frame and he shook his head.
"After a while, he started having these violent rages, coming home late at night, smashing the furniture." He shivered, and Elrohir's arms tightened protectively. "He started. he started using his belt." Legolas' voice dropped so low Elrohir had to strain to hear it. "He would come home and want me to take off my robe, for no reason other than he wanted to hurt something. He hits me with it, on my shoulders, back, legs." He trailed off, blushing a deep red. How Elrohir must see him now.
Elrohir noted Legolas' unconscious use of the present tense, and continued stroking the blonde's hair sadly, offering whatever comfort he could. "I wish you'd told me, mellon," he whispered.
"I couldn't," Legolas choked out, "I was too ashamed, I thought no one would believe me, they wouldn't understand." Elrohir placed a chaste kiss on the crown of Legolas' head. "I believe you, I understand." He felt Legolas' body slump against him, worn out from the emotional strain of their conversation. "Come, rest now. We can talk another time."
Legolas nodded weakly and let himself be lowered to the mattress again, wincing slightly when the motion put stress on his injured ribs. Elrohir smoothed the coverlet around him and was about to move back to sit in his chair when Legolas covered his hand with his own, looking up with anguish in his eyes. "He doesn't mean it, really he doesn't. It's the drink, he doesn't mean to hurt me, he loves me." Elrohir sighed, gentling his touch even further as he tucked the coverlet up to the blonde's shoulders and laid a soothing hand on his forehead. "Sleep," he murmured quietly, as Legolas' tired eyes glazed over.
*********************************************************************
Chapter 6
Elrohir padded quietly down the corridor, fearful that his footsteps might disturb the prince's sleep should he walk any louder. He had left Legolas sleeping to go seek out his father, eager to tell him of the blonde's story, and was now anxious to return to his side. His father had seemed vaguely troubled at everything he told him, but reassured Elrohir that Legolas' agreement to talk about it was a big step in the right direction. If he could gain the prince's unconditional trust, it would be easier to convince Legolas in the end that Glorfindel was insane and dangerous. Talking had also eased the burden of shame and repressed emotion Legolas had been carrying over the years.
Elrohir stopped suddenly outside Legolas' door- he could hear the low murmur of two voices, one Legolas' and the other.
Cursing himself for every sort of fool, Elrohir yanked open the door without knocking. How could he have let this happen? There in front of him, sitting in *his* chair by the bedside, was Glorfindel. A neat pile of clothing which Elrohir recognised to be Legolas' lay stacked on the dresser, along with a few books and the beautiful silver hairbrush and mirror the prince owned, a prized memento of his departed mother. A fresh bouquet of flowers had been arranged on the windowsill- Glorfindel was positively oozing charm and concern. He gave Elrohir a careful, searching look before quickly breaking out in a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Elrohir," he said, voice smooth and unhurried, "What a pleasant surprise. I must thank you for your excellent care of Legolas." Beside him on the bed, Legolas smiled contentedly as the blonde lord's fingers carded easily through his hair. //He's buying it!// Elrohir thought furiously, //he really believes Glorfindel is going to going to change overnight.// It took all his will to keep his hands from clenching into fists and maintain a blank expression, but he just about managed it. Not trusting his voice, he simply nodded.
"I just wanted to check he was aright, bring him a few things from our quarters." Glorfindel's hand now stroked up and down the length of his lover's ear, making Legolas purr and lean into the touch. Elrohir felt hypnotised, his eyes rooted to the spot where long slender fingers ran teasingly over the delicate tip of the prince's ear, a sensitive erogenous zone. A prickle of a foreign emotion tauted at his mind- jealously, he realised with a start. He wanted to be the one touching that white skin, giving him pleasure. Elrohir mentally shook himself, making his mind focus on the situation at hand. "That was kind of you Glorfindel, however, we are anxious that the prince rests to recover his strength."
Taking the hint, Glorfindel's smile became even more forced and he rose from the chair. Bending down to kiss Legolas, he spoke softly into the prince's ear. "I will return as soon as I can, nin-bain." Legolas nodded and his eyes followed the lord adoringly as he made his way to the door. Flashing an almost desperate look at Elrohir, he waited until Glorfindel's footsteps had faded before he spoke.
"I told you, he loves me. He brought me all this," he gestured at the clothes and flowers, "to make me more comfortable. He told me how sorry he is, and promised he'll never touch another drop of wine again." Legolas beamed. "He's going now to pour away all the bottles in our chambers!"
Watching Legolas naively convince himself that Glorfindel would change was too much for Elrohir. It made him want to weep and shout and shake the prince hard by the shoulders all at the same time, but he remained silent, not meeting the blonde's eyes.
The false cheeriness in Legolas' face crumpled, and he looked down blushing at the sheets, fighting the lump in his throat. Even to himself his arguments sounded ridiculous. He let Elrohir tuck the blankets around him again, still averting his eyes from his friend's deep grey ones. He closed them and turned his face towards the wall, preying for sleep and oblivion to claim him, when Elrohir's soft voice cut across his tangled thoughts.
"Just remember Legolas, no matter what, if you ever wake up one day and realise you need out, if you ever need me, I'll be there for you." Hot, guilty tears slid down Legolas' face, and he buried his face further into the soft pillow, hiding them from view. He cursed his cowardice as he feigned sleep, but this was a conversation he wasn't ready to have.
* * *
Elrohir had sat watching Legolas for over an hour since the subtle change in breathing had marked the transition from consciousness to true sleep. He knew Legolas had only pretended to sleep, but decided, this time at least, not to call him on it. His friend needed rest and quiet now, not a grilling. Speaking of which, Elrohir reminded himself, he was due to face his own grilling when his father returned to take his watch. Explaining how Glorfindel had been allowed access to the prince despite Elrond's explicit orders that he be kept out for the moment was not going to be easy.
As if acting on an invisible cue, a rustle of robes heralded his father's entrance. Elrohir groaned inwardly; could things get any worse? Gingerly, he turned to face Elrond. "Ada? I need to talk to you." Elrond was alarmed by his son's stricken face, his mind silently running through a list of possible catastrophes, but he kept his voice completely calm. "What is the matter, son?" Elrohir bit his lip, looking almost reluctant to speak. Like he used to as an elfling, Elrond reflected, when he had been caught doing something he should not. He braced himself for whatever the news might be.
"Ada, I'm sorry, but. but when I came back to see you this morning, I completely forgot I musn't leave Legolas unattended. By the time I returned, Glorfindel was already here, promising Legolas the earth. He even brought flowers-" he gestured, distressed, at the niphrodel and roses on the windowsill. "I'm sorry Adar, it is all my fault."
Elrond groaned inwardly; this was bad news indeed. He hadn't wanted Glorfindel anywhere near the prince until he himself had got the chance to undo some of the brainwashing that Legolas had suffered at the older warrior's hands. Now Legolas had seen Glorfindel and doubtless succumbed to his charm again, convincing the prince to leave him would be more difficult.
Elrohir looked so dejected and guilty however, Elrond hadn't the heart to be angry. His expression softened as he laid his hand atop his son's. "Accidents happen, pen-neth, don't torment yourself. But may this serve as a lesson, to remind you never to let your concentration slip while on duty. Just do not leave Legolas alone again, until I tell you it is safe to do so." Elrohir nodded, some of the tension lifting from his shoulders, and looking considerably relieved. "Besides," Elrond continued, a shade of guilt colouring his voic, "I also played a part in this lapse. I should have thought of the consequences of your coming to my study. It didn't occur to me when we talked this morning that I would be taking you from his side."
Elrohir looked appalled at the thought that his faher should feel himself to blame, and was opening his mouth to utter a denial of any guilt on Elrond's part, when his father quickly silenced him with a commanding look, Elrohir shrinking back meekly into his seat.
"However," the lore master continued, "that is not the matter in hand. We can no longer keep Glorfindel away from his side if Legolas wants to see him, but we must be vigilant- watch for any signs that he may try to harm Legolas. I will also speak with Legolas; perhaps over time I can erode Glorfindel' conditioning and make him see the truth. I have had much experience treating emotional and mental health problems." "Thank you father." Elrohir felt better now he knew Elrond would be treating his friend, even if Legolas didn't realise what was happening. He rose from his chair, stretching his stiff, weary limbs, and stood aside to allow his father to take his place. Bowing his head in respect, he departed, going to rest in preparation for his next session with the prince.
Elrond began settling himself when he noticed a drop of red blood seeping through one of the many clean white bandages Legolas wore. Frowning, he immediately fetched fresh bandages, a knife, and a selection of herbs with useful healing properties from the cupboard opposite the window, and came to stand by the bed. Carefully cutting away the offending bandage, Lord Elrond was alarmed to find that beneath had reopened and was bleeding again. Lifting his right hand to hover almost touching the open wound, Elrond took a deep breath, focusing his energy, letting it flow through Vilya into the prince.
Vilya glowed and grew hot, channelling Elrond's own healing abilities into Legolas, causing the wound to close and the blood to stop. When satisfied with the result, Elrond closed his mind, severing the connection. Pausing to let the dizziness to subside, he slowly lowered his hand and began to carefully apply herbs to the area where the wound once lay, an ugly bruise now the only reminder of it's former presence.
He wrapped another white linen bandage round Legolas' waist, securing it with a pin. The skin was hot to the touch, making Elrond reach for the prince's forehead anxiously. The skin beneath his hand was burning up, and a small whimper of pain escaped Legolas' lips. Elrond quickly returned to the cupboard and drew out several packets of herbs, before setting the window wide open, letting a cool breeze into the room. Filling the kettle above the fire, he set about preparing the herbs for a healing tea. Legolas shuddered quietly beside him, and he hastened to the fireplace to retrieve the hot water. He poured the water over the herbs, and left the mixture to infuse in the cup as he doused the fire. Another soft whimper from Legolas, and Elrond placed a hand on the prince's shoulder, squeezing gently and calling his name. Legolas' eyelids flickered and awareness entered the blue orbs, along with a mixture of confusion and pain. He looked around wildly before his eyes locked with Elrond's.
"It's alright, pen-neth, you are safe," Elrond coaxed, his voice low and gentle, as if he spoke to a frightened forest creature, not an elf he had known for centuries. Seeking to reassure him, Elrond quietly began rubbing the knuckles on Legolas' right hand, hoping the action might relax him. "I've made you some tea- it should help with the pain. You will be in pain for some time I'm afraid."
He left his ministrations to pick up the tea, turning back in time to see Legolas flinch and bite his lip to keep from crying out as another wave of pain coursed through his body. Carefully propping him up on the cushions, Elrond held the cup to the blonde's lips, encouraging him to drink the hot tea. The taste was bitter but Legolas forced it down, preferring it to the agony consuming his body at that moment. When the cup was drained, Elrond placed a hand on the prince's brow again, checking his temperature again.
"Where does it hurt the most, Legolas?" Legolas twitched again. "Chest. it burns," he gasped out, trying to concentrate on Elrond's words. Where was Glorfindel? Why wasn't he here, comforting him? Why did he do this to him in the first place. Love wasn't supposed to be like this. A pain that was nothing to do with his cracked ribs gripped his heart, almost making Legolas cry out with its intensity. "It's not supposed to be like this," he whispered aloud.
Ever astute, Elrond immediately understood his meaning, and seized the chance to get through to the elf he had come to view as a son. "No one would think any less of you pen-neth. This is a form of abuse. Don't keep this inside." Legolas looked almost panicked and Elrond quickly continued. "If ever the time comes when you need a way out, know that I will support you no matter what."
At his last words, Elrond was certain he saw a flicker of longing in Legolas' eyes, but in an instant it was gone. Looking down at the coverlet again, Legolas spoke so quietly Elrond had to lean forward to catch his words. "Please, I would like to sleep again now." Elrond swallowed his disappointment. "As you wish."
Crossing to the cupboard again, he slid open a drawer and removed a small cone of incense, a tiny dish, and a box of matches. Silently, he placed the cone in the middle of the dish and lit the tip, blowing out the flame and leaving the cone to smoulder, producing a delicate purple smoke. Immune to its effects after many thousands of years of exposure, Elrond returned to Legolas' bedside with the quick-burning incense and held it a few inches beneath the prince's nose. "Breathe deeply," he instructed. Legolas complied and before long his eyelids began to droop. Soon they were closed in the deep healing sleep induced by the poppy incense.
Elrond set the dish on the commode and let the remainder of the incense burn itself out. He was a little disappointed at Legolas' refusal of his offer of help, though he hadn't truly expected him to take him up on it. What was important was that he knew help was at hand if he needed it, and judging from the fleeting expression Elrond had caught on the blonde's face, the first seeds of doubt had been sown in his mind.
******************************************************
Chapter 7
Six weeks had passed since the harrowing day that would be forever etched in Elrohir's mind, images of the battered prince still haunting him. Since then, he had spent more time with Legolas than ever before, helping to relieve the excruciating boredom of confinement in a sick room for weeks on end. He had started off reading and talking to him, helping him to eat, wash and dress. Then as the blonde healed and became more independent, able to sit up alone and move his arms without pain, they played chess and checkers for hours on end. Over the last two weeks the pair had walked together in the hospital gardens, letting Legolas stretch his stiff limbs.
Elrohir grew closer to Legolas than he ever imagined he would; listening to him talk of his family, of living in the shadow of his many brothers, and even a little about the beginnings of his relationship with Glorfindel. Elrohir in turn told him of pain at his at his mother's absence, his guilt at not finding her sooner, and his feelings that his father had distanced himself from Elladan and he since her passing; things he had not even told Elladan, his twin and the other half of his soul.
The more time they spent together, the more his secret, unrequited love gnawed painfully at his heart. At night his dreams were possessed by gold hair and hot, smooth skin, setting his entire body aflame. Every inch of him felt drawn tight as a bowstring, but he knew his longing for the prince was more than base lust. Imladris' temperate summer felt grey and lifeless when the prince wasn't by his side to enjoy it. However, Legolas was oblivious to his most ardent admirer; there were others seeking to hold his heart.
Throughout the six weeks Legolas spent recuperating, Glorfindel had been the most attentive of lovers- kind and considerate, visiting frequently and spending and spending hours by the prince's side, showering him with gifts. Again and again he swore he would change, that he would stop drinking, would never lift a hand to Legolas again.
Legolas consented to give him another chance immediately, happily agreeing to Glorfindel's plea for him to move back to their shared quarters as soon as he was able to leave the healing wing. Elrohir did not share the prince's faith, however; his suspicions ran too deep for him to swallow Glorfindel's earnestly delivered promises. He knew from experience that some things in life never change.
He watched as the prince's deft fingers ran the brush through gold strands, easing out invisible knots and leaving his hair a shining, silken mass. From his seat on the bed Elrohir longed to reach up and touch it, but held himself firmly in check, focusing his mind of Legolas' forthcoming departure. Elrond had examined the blonde and declared that providing he rested and was careful not to over-exert himself, Legolas was free to return to his own chambers.
Elrond had spent long hours with the prince these last weeks, talking about Glorfindel, but apparently to no avail, as Legolas jumped at the chance to return to his lover. Elrohir helped pack his possessions with a heavy heart and now sat waiting with the prince for Lord Glorfindel to collect him and bring him home.
The silence in the room was deafening, and after a time, Elrohir could bear it no longer. "Don't go back to him, please mellon." Legolas turned to face him, wearing a wistful expression. "I know you must think me weak, Elrohir, and I am. I love him; I'm sorry, but I do. He's going to change for me El, he promised."
Elrohir shook his head sorrowfully. "People don't change overnight, Legolas."
Legolas looked set to reply when Glorfindel stepping into the room, a benevolent smile gracing his features, interrupted them. Elrohir looked up waspishly- the oaf hadn't even knocked. The blonde lord bent down to kiss Legolas, and the flicker of irritation in Elrohir flared up into anger, making his lips thin dangerously and his fists clench the bed sheets. How dare he? That brute wasn't fit to tie the laces on Legolas' boot after what he did to him.
Glorfindel broke the kiss, and looked up as if seeing Elrohir for the first time. Amusement played across his face for a moment, then a gloating smile fixed itself on his features, mocking Elrohir's obvious jealousy. "Thank you for taking such good care of him, pen-neth," Glorfindel drawled, "it is nice to see such a devoted friend." Elrohir prickled a little at the extra emphasis on the word 'friend.' That bastard knew. Glorfindel smirked and turned to a now-confused Legolas, and picked up the prince's small suitcase. "Come, love." Legolas rose and Glorfindel immediately wrapped a possessive arm round his waist. As his lover guided him to the door, Legolas craned his neck round to shoot an apologetic glance in Elrohir's direction. He was able to whisper 'thank you' as Glorfindel ferried him out into the corridor, then the door shut behind him. He felt Glorfindelgive his waist a squeeze, and let himself be directed, hardly seeing, to their chambers.
Once inside, Legolas began to relax. Familiarity set him at ease, and he breathed deeply, inhaling his lover's musky scent in the air. After weeks in the Healing House, it was a relief to be surrounded by home comforts once again. Glorfindel took his small bag through to their bedroom, and Legolas carefully lowered himself into a chair, his injuries still limiting his movements. He sighed with relief as he sunk back into the upholstery- he was amazed how tired he felt after such a short journey from his sick room. Legolas was looking forward to a nice, long, hot bath to ease his aching muscles, and a few hours simply enjoying his lover's company.
Glorfindel re-entered and circled round to stand behind Legolas. His arms snaked down to the prince's shoulders, hands kneading the muscles beneath. Legolas sighed blissfully and relaxed, blotting out all thoughts save those focusing on the pleasant sensations.
Glorfindel's hands worked out the tension in his neck, then moved round to the front and slid down to rest just beneath Legolas' collarbones. Legolas made a soft, disappointed noise when he felt the massage stop and looked up questioningly at his lover. Glorfindel chuckled softly, and proceeded to tease the pointed tip of Legolas' ear, distracting him while the Elda spoke.
"I'm afraid I must leave you now, I still have a pile of paperwork awaiting me in my office. Elrond has not reduced my duties as seneschal any, despitre my request that he allow me to spen more time wit you as you recover."
From within a haze of pleasure, Legolas was able to make out the general idea of his lover's sentence, and looked up sharply, dismayed. "But I thought- ooh." Legolas moaned as Glorfindel stepped up his assault on his ear. Glorfindel smirked, watching him writhing in his seat, and knowing he was the one controlling him. Legolas felt his member stir- it had been far too long, and his body was eager to release the tension that had built up during his stay in the Healing house.
Glorfindel reached for the laces of Legolas' tunic, untying them and pulling the tunic open. His fingers slid down, circling the pink nipples revealed to them, and Legolas' breath hitched. Glorfindel rolled the pink nubs between his fingers, making them stand out like berries and causing the prince to gasp and squirm. Suddenly he pinched them gently and Legolas mewled, hips bucking blindly and his hands clenching the arms of the chair.
Glorfindel's smirk grew as he saw his young lover spread his legs on the seat to accommodate the growing weight between his thighs. Abruptly, he removed his hands and stepped away from the chair, leaving Legolas reeling. The prince moaned in displeasure and turned desperately towards his tormentor, begging silently for him to finish the job.
The Elda simply smiled innocently, reaching for his cloak. "I shall return this evening. Until then, make yourself at home, try to rest."
He turned on his heel and walked smartly to the door. Just as he was about to twist the handle, Glorfindel looked briefly back to Legolas, whose hand was creeping down towards the source of his tension. "Oh, and you are not allowed to touch yourself while I am gone. Only I am allowed to bring you release. I want you ready and wanting for my return." With that he left the room, leaving a needy and frustrated Legolas gaping after him in disbelief. Not allowed to tounch himself? His arousal twitched again and he groaned. His whole body felt aflame, all sensation seemed to be focused in the arousal between his legs.
There was only one thing for it. He rose from the chair, biting back a moan when the fabric of his breeches rubbed against his erection. Walking awkwardly to the bathroom, he braced himself for the discomfort of a *very* cold bath
* * *
Elladan watched his twin out of the corner of his eye, as he had done since they sat down to dinner with Elrond. So far, he noted, Elrohir had cut all his food into small pieces, pushed the pieces aimlessly around his plate, and speared the odd lump of meat with his fork, but a single piece had yet to actually find its way into his mouth.
Erestor was talking animatedly on Elrohir's right about new defence plans he hoped to implement in the coming autumn, but Elladan could tell from the look on his twin's face that he hadn't actually heard a single word of the councillor's prattle. In fact, Elrohir hardly even seemed aware of the presence of the other diners, so lost in his thoughts was he.
After a time, Elrohir rose and begged permission to leave the table. Elrond, distracted by juggling three conversations simultaneously, was quick to grant it, and Elrohir scurried out of the noisy dining room. Elladan immediately followed suit and hastened after his brother. He followed silently through the Great Hall and into the South Wing, a labyrinth of winding corridors.
He soon lost sight of Elrohir, and came to a fork in the hallway, two identical, empty corridors leading in opposite directions. Hesitating, he considered his brother's likely cause of action. His room was in the West Wing, so the only reasons he might be coming here were either the public baths, or.
Elladan grinned triumphantly; confident he knew where his brother would be. Picking the left fork, he sped silently down the corridor until he came to a set of double doors; dark mahogany set with stained glass. Pushing them open, he stepped out into the cool evening breeze, enjoying the feel of it caressing his skin. He knew exactly where to go.
Walking through the trees and bushes, Elladan came to a halt on the edge of a clearing. Sure enough, there inside their mother's private garden, was Elrohir. He at on a stone bench beside a lilac tree- their mother's favourite- with shoulders slumped. It was a place he always came to when troubled or sad, drawing some small comfort in the happy memories the place held. It was a small piece of Lothlorien here in Imladris, and Celebrían had spent hours during her time in the valley tending it. Elladan had lost count of the number of times he's found his younger twin sitting here in the months immediately after Celebrían sailed, clinging desperately to this last part of his mother he had left.
Elladan crossed quietly to sit beside his brother. He placed a hand lightly on Elrohir's knee, and looked into his brother's troubled face. Elrohir gave no response, still staring out across the grass. "You've been tense, distracted of late. You're not eating, you've been so listless- I'm worried for you. Please brother, tell me what is wrong."
Elrohir's face remained blank, and he spoke not a word. "Please Elrohir, talk to me." Elrohir turned, the first indication that he had even acknowledged Elladan's presence. "It's nothing." Elladan raised an incredulous eyebrow. "It is clearly not nothing. Elrohir, tell me." Elrohir gave a deep, melodramatic sigh, and his face contorted as if in pain. "You must swear never to tell another soul. Promise me Elladan!" When Elladan nodded tentatively, Elrohir continued, a tormented look in his grey eyes.
"I'm in love with Legolas."
Elladan's jaw visibly dropped, eyes widening in shock. "How long?" he blurted out. "Long enough." Sadness tinged Elrohir's voice. "I'm worried about him, Ell, I really am. Glorfindel hasn't changed, he's just using Legolas! I don't trust him."
He calmed himself, swallowing and breathing heavily, voice dropping. "Legolas' heart will break, Elladan. And I will fade soon after." Elladan sat up in alarm, seeing his brother anew. "Elrohir, come, you can't be serious. Besides, perhaps we should give Glorfindel a chance. He really may have changed for the better." Elrohir looked up bitterly. "He's never going to change, Ell. Today I saw him out walking the corridors when he was supposed to be home, caring for Legolas- Ada even gave all his duties to Erestor! He doesn't care about him."
Elladan winced at the anger and resentment in his twin's voice, and squeezed his knee reassuringly. "Elrohir, Glorfindel may simply have been fetching him some food from the kitchens, you just do not know." He smiled placating. "Give him a chance brother. Anyway, perhaps this is just a passing infatuation." A new thought struck him. "Are you sure you aren't letting your emotions cloud your judgement?"
"I suppose," said Elrohir, not sounding at all convinced. He looked into the distance again, surveying his mother's sanctuary. "I think I would like to be alone now, brother." Stung, Elladan nodded silently and left the garden. They had shared everything before now, and it hurt that Elrohir would shut him out of this.
That night, in his room next to Elrohir's he tossed and turned, unable to sleep, and by the time dawn had broken over the valley, he still had not heard his brother coming in.