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 8
"Achoo!"
Legolas groaned loudly and flopped back bonelessly against the pillows, exhausted. He had woken up feeling hot and sticky, with a throbbing head and blocked nose and had immediately turned to Glorfindel for help. Once he had finally persuaded his reluctant lover out of bed to fetch a healer, Legolas had begun sneezing, a completely new sensation for him. And, he decided, an altogether unpleasant one, as it felt much like the front of his head was about to explode.
A grumbling Glorfindel dispatched to the healers, Legolas was left alone in bed; coughing, sniffing, sneezing and generally feeling sorry for himself. "A..a..achoo!" Legolas growled in frustration. 'This is ridiculous,' he thought crossly, 'elves don't get colds!'
Which is exactly what he had said to Elrond when he arrived and pronounced that somehow, Legolas had contracted a chest cold. Finishing up his examination, Elrond had simply raised a dark, elegant eyebrow, as if reproaching the prince for questioning his judgement.
He had probed about how Legolas had managed to catch a chill in the few short hours since his discharge, asking if he had been exposed to any cold water, making Glorfindel smirk knowingly and Legolas squirm uncomfortably in his bed. Elrond had appeared suspicious, but questioned no further, evidently deciding that he didn't want to know.
Instead, he issued a stern warning that Legolas' weakened lungs made him vulnerable to colds and infection until he had fully healed, and threatened that if he didn't stay in bed until further notice, Legolas would find himself tied to a bed in the Healing House.
Feeling suitably chastised, Legolas had meekly assured Elrond of his obedience and submitted to the various foul-tasting concoction the half-elf had prescribed. He had been relieved when the lore master had left, but soon began to reassess his opinion. Glorfindel had left soon after for a hunting trip and wouldn't be back until after sundown, leaving the prince quite alone. He played distractedly with the sapphire ring on his finger, twisting it aimlessly.
Elrond had evidently told his sons of Legolas' sorry state, as within the hour of Glorfindel's departure, Elrohir had arrived in his full leather and burgundy uniform, clearly due to leave for the border patrol. 'Just as I as about to sleep,' Legolas thought crossly. An hour with nothing to distract him from the strange and deeply disagreeable sensations brought on by a cold (something like having an orc sitting on your chest, he had now decided), and Legolas was feeling greatly out-of-sorts.
However, if he was hoping for sympathy and companionship from Elrohir, Legolas was sadly disappointed. Instead, Elrohir had merely stopped by on his way to the guardhouse to castigate the blonde for not taking better heed of his health, before delivering several dire warnings of pneumonia and bronchitis if the prince did not remain confined to bed for at least a week.
Elrohir had at least offered a glass of water to the parched elf, but all gratitude Legolas had felt soon evaporated when Elrohir began to mutter darkly about how the entire episode showed that Glorfindel wasn't properly taking care of the prince.
Though he knew Elrohir meant well, Legolas was incensed, out of loyalty to Glorfindel and his own pride. He was sick and tired of the peredhel's mollycoddling- he was quite capable of taking care of himself. Elrohir had apologised without sounding particularly convinced, and even now, hours after the dark-haired elf had left for the eastern border, Legolas' resentment was smouldering. The glass of water left by Elrohir was now also empty, and the throbbing in Legolas' head had increased tenfold, adding to the prince's choler. He turned on his side and sunk heavily into the mattress, sulking at the injustice of it all.
With his new view of the room, a small corner of thick parchment caught his eye, half-hidden beneath a book on the commode. Curious, Legolas reached out his hand to tug at the paper, eventually managing to extricate it from beneath the book.
Recognition made Legolas suddenly feel hotter that he already was, and a knot of guilt formed in his stomach. He ran his thumb over the royal seal of Greenwood, now broken. He knew he should reply, had known it when he first opened the letter the previous night, but what could he say? He also knew he would have to said some sort of word soon, as judging by the worried tone of his father's letter, Thranduil was on the verge of riding over to Imladris himself.
The concern and hurt that he had sent no word home came through clearly in the letter, making Legolas feel even worse than he had before. *Your family miss you, when will you come home? * Legolas hadn't the heart to tell them that he couldn't come to see them, that Glorfindel wanted him to sever all contact with Greenwood. It was why he had hidden the letter in the first place, and why he hadn't seen his brothers in a century. There were anxious inquiries about his health and the cause and severity of his injuries- a development Legolas assumed Elrond must have informed them of- all questions that deserved answers.
But they would have to wait. Legolas dispiritedly tucked the envelope into the top drawer of the commode, promising himself that he would get round to replying soon.
Chapter 9
Legolas looked himself up and down in the mirror with a critical eye. No, the light blue was better. This one made him look even paler than usual.
He laid aside the navy robe he had been holding up and picked up the pale one again. Where once he would have thrown on the first suitable garment in his path, he now had to carefully consider his choice. He was still wan and pale from his newly-recovered-from cold, and over his seven weeks of recuperation from his various injuries, he had also lost a good deal of weight.
All sorts of rumours had been flying around since he had collapsed outside the stables and news of his recent illness had only added to the furious gossip. Much as Legolas pretended that the rumours didn't bother him, he was still keen to dispel them by appearing tonight at the New Year Revels looking as normal and healthy as possible.
The revel that night would be the first time the prince was allowed to leave his 'rest' in he and his lover's quarters. And none too soon- being shut up in that place was beginning to give Legolas cabin fever. Actually, on second thoughts, the paler blue actually made him look washed out.
Legolas shook himself- if he was starting to think like this, he had definitely been cooped up too long. Elrond's special permission to attend the revel had been obtained, and hopefully, if he survived the night unscathed, the half-elf's good will might be extended to cover daytime excursions.
He settled at last for a long, loose green robe he had bought from his forest home, and slipped into it. "Green suits you." Legolas whirled around to see Glorfindel standing in the doorway, leaning languidly against the frame. The prince suddenly had a strange feeling that the Elda had been watching him the whole time. He was startled to find that the thought actually unsettled him.
The blonde lord looked resplendent in crimson velvet, a gold circlet gleaming on his brow. Tight black breeches accented his well-muscled legs and complimented the deep red of his tunic- in short he looked stunning. But somehow, the sight, which would have once quickened his blood, now left Legolas cold. Telling himself that he was only feeling tired and out-of- sorts from these weeks of solitude and inactivity, Legolas did his best to appear enthusiastic. "I am ready."
He joined Glorfindel in the doorway and remained passive as the Elda's arm assumed it's usual position, wrapped firmly around Legolas' waist. Legolas soon found the pressure constrictive and was forced to fight the urge to peel the arm away and walk by himself. Why did Glorfindel always have to lead him around like he was a puppy?
As they entered the Great Hall, Legolas forgot all his frustrations. The hall was decked out in a thousand colours, paper lanterns and flower garlands hanging from every possible perch. The room was packed with elves merrymaking and the sound of music and singing filled the air. Everyone was dressed in their finery, and taking full advantage of all that was on offer; dancing, singing and drinking with friends. Despite his tiredness, the bustling atmosphere made Legolas grin with excitement.
"I'll go get us something to drink."
Legolas nodded distractedly and moved off into the crowd as Glorfindel left in search of refreshments. He scanned the hall for people he knew, but was unable to recognise any of his friends in the mass of colourful robes and milling bodies.
Legolas was beginning to feel the curious stares of the guests surrounding him, their eyes boring into his back. He was sure he could hear people whispering when his back was turned, speculating over his thinner frame and long convalescence. How weak they must think him. Oh, Gods, what if they knew? Panic was beginning to creep into the prince's mind, turning his chest to stone, when a voice from behind broke through his tangled thoughts. "Legolas!" He knew that voice, but surely it couldn't be-
Legolas spun around to face the voice's owner, a grin breaking out on his pale face. Before him stood a tall, broad-shouldered elf with long auburn hair in ornate braids. He wore a matching grin and was dressed in a rich, midnight blue robe, lovingly embroidered in silver, and setting off his blue eyes nicely. Legolas could scarcely believe his eyes.
"Silinde!" He gazed at his childhood friend, almost lost for words. The other elf enfolded Legolas in a big bear hug, chuckling merrily at the prince's surprise. "It has been far too long, friend." With one last squeeze, Silinde stepped back, concern knitting his brow. "You've lost weight. I can feel all of your ribs." Legolas shrugged self-consciously before quickly changing the subject.
"When did you arrive in the valley? How long can you stay?" It would be wonderful to catch up with the news from the Greenwood. "Alas, I cannot stay. I am riding as your father's messenger to Lorien, and I only stopped by on the way to enjoy some company on New Year's Eve. I leave later this very night." Legolas heart sank in disappointment. "The twins," Silinde continued, a twinkle of amusement entering his eyes, "were kind enough to lend me a robe for the celebrations tonight, so I do not shame myself in my dusty travel clothes before great persons such as yourself, your Royal Highness," delivering a mock bow, eliciting laughter from behind.
Legolas rolled his eyes playfully, and then looked over Silinde's shoulder. Only now did he realise that Elrohir and Elladan were also present, standing a polite distance away as the Greenwood elves greeted each other. Elladan stepped forward. "It's good to see you up and about again, Legolas," he offered, before being silenced by a sharp elbow in his side, courtesy of Elrohir.
Legolas shot Elrohir a grateful look, but the damage was already done. Silinde looked at Legolas suspiciously. "You've been ill? Legolas, what's going on?" Sensing the curiosity of the other revellers, many of whom were now discreetly trying to eavesdrop on their conversation, Legolas shifted uncomfortably. Picking up on the blonde's unease, Silinde lowered his voice. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"
"This way"
Legolas nodded apologetically to Elrohir and Elladan, the latter of whom was looking distinctly sheepish, and led Silinde through the throngs of people out to the veranda. From there, they went down the small set of steps into the gardens, eventually settling on a bench beneath an ivy trellis, shielded from prying eyes.
As they sat down together, Silinde immediately turned to the prince. "What did he mean? And what's this about you being injured? We received a letter from Lord Elrond; he said you'd been hurt but he didn't say how. Your father wrote, but you never replied." Legolas winced at the accusation in his friend's tone. "It's nothing serious Silinde, I swear. I just got into a fight." Silinde snorted. "Funny, when I asked Elrohir, he told me you'd fallen down the stairs." Legolas groaned inwardly. He should have thought to get his story straight.
"Honestly, Silinde, it was nothing. And I was barely ill; it was only a cold. Elrond did make me stay in bed for a week- which is what Elladan referred to- but he was being overprotective." Silinde shot him a withering glare. "Elves don't get sick unless they're already badly weakened, Legolas. Why won't you tell me what is going on? Don't you trust me anymore?" The hurt in Silinde's tone made Legolas sigh. "It's not that, I swear mellon. I. I just can't talk about this. I'm sorry," he finished lamely. Silinde turned away, gazing out into the twilight. "Why do you never come home, Legolas? Your family misses you." "I know."
For a while they sat in awkward silence, avoiding each other's gaze, until Legolas could bear the tension in the air no longer. Reaching out to clasp Silinde's hand, he looked up pleadingly at his friend. "Please, Silinde, let's not ruin tonight. It's been so long, can't we just enjoy this time together?" Silinde's heart melted at the misery in Legolas' face and smiled. "Of course, you are right." He rose, pulling Legolas up with him. "Lets go back inside." Legolas breathed a sigh of relief and eagerly complied, linking arms with his friend as they made their way inside to join the other revellers.
Back inside the Great Hall, the twins were waiting for them, drinks in hand. As Elrohir passed him a goblet of wine, Legolas' heart skipped a beat. Where was Glorfindel? He had left to find drink before Legolas wandered off. Frantically scanning the crowd, Legolas began feeling panicky- Glorfindel was nowhere to be seen. "Legolas?" A look of concern and curiosity was on Elrohir's face. "Have you seen Glorfindel? He was supposed to be getting drinks, I completely forgot." He couldn't disguise the anguish and anxiety in his voice, and Silinde frowned. "Who is Glorfindel? Surely you don't mean-" "Yes, the balrog slayer," Elrohir cut in impatiently, trying to focus on Legolas, who was now looking very white and anxious. "Relax, he will come and find you. He's probably got distracted himself, talking to old friends." "I guess," Legolas concurred uneasily. The younger twin was probably right- it would be a very typical thing for Glorfindel to do- but he still felt vaguely worried. The Elda had returned with drinks to find him gone, Legolas could be sure his temper would be roused.
The sharp chiming of metal against crystal interrupted the prince's gloomy thoughts. A hush descended on the room and all turned to face Lord Elrond, standing on the high dais clearing his throat. The lore master looked impressive in his velvet robes of office and mithril coronet, but his intimidating majesty was belied by his genial smile. "Friends, welcome one and all to the New Year Revels!" Applause greeted his opening statement, and Elrond held up his arms for quiet. "Carouse, dance and be merry, for today we celebrate the passing of the old and the beginning of the new. Let all indulge themselves in whatever pursuit their addiction may lead them to," he gestured to the musicians, "strike up, let the Revels begin!"
The minstrels began to play and a dance tune filled the air. "Will you dance?" Legolas looked up in surprise at Silinde's questioning face. He took one last look around the hall, and seeing Glorfindel nowhere, put his drink down and tentatively allowed his old friend to lead him onto the dance floor and into a spirited waltz. Letting Silinde lead and giving himself over to the music, the prince began to relax. They spun happily around the hall, enjoying each other's much missed company, and when the first song ended, Legolas was reluctant to stop. He next gave each of the twins a dance, before insisting, exhausted, that they sit a while.
In the far corner of the hall they settled together, tired but laughing and joking, all thought of Glorfindel fled from Legolas' thoughts. With the prince deep in conversation with Elrohir, Silinde murmured quietly in Elladan's ear, so as not to alert the blonde. "What's going on? What does Glorfindel have to do with Legolas?" "He has been Legolas' lover since he arrived in Imladris," the elder twin replied, equally cautious. The auburn-haired elf cocked an incredulous eyebrow. "If that is the case, then why did he pale with worry at the thought of his wrath?" Silinde snarled, exasperated, "Why does no one tell me what is going on?" Elladan shrugged non-committaly. "That is something for Legolas to tell you, when he is ready."
Silinde glanced over at Legolas to make sure the blonde was still chatting happily with the younger twin. "Will you at least tell me if Glorfindel is the reason Legolas hasn't contacted his family in over a century?" "I really think you need to talk to Legolas about this," he whispered evasively, causing Silinde's lips to purse in displeasure. A particularly scathing comment was on the tip of his tongue but a sharp kick from Elladan alerted him to the fact that Elrohir and Legolas had finished their conversation and were looking at the other pair curiously. Silinde bit his tongue and rescued the uncomfortable moment by smiling broadly at the prince and steering the conversation towards safer ground.
"Shall I tell you the news from Greenwood?" Legolas' face instantly lit up and he nodded vehemently. "Please do," he replied eagerly, "it's been so long." Silinde took a long drink from his goblet and settled himself comfortably in his chair, preparing for a long tale.
As Legolas listened, transfixed, to Silinde's words, Elrohir felt a gentle tugging at the back of his robes. Sliding back discretely on the cushions he sat on, Elrohir moved to join his twin, putting a little distance between the Greenwood elves and themselves. He bent his lips to his brother's ear. "What is it Elladan?" "Silinde suspects something. He knows it is Glorfindel who has been cutting Legolas off from the Greenwood all these years," Elladan breathed back, "He seems to distrust Glorfindel." Elrohir did his best to appear scathing without attracting the other elves' attention. "With good reason." "Perhaps," Elladan replied, a trace of irritation audible, "but you know he has the king's ear. It will do no good to start a diplomatic row between our realms. If he convinces Thranduil that an Imaldrin lord is holding his son hostage - however accurate that might be," he added quickly, seeing the look on his brother's face, "we may have an extremely angry king accusing us of complicity. He may even decide Legolas is a prisoner here."
Reluctantly, Elrohir had to agree that the older twin had a point. "So what do you propose we do about it?" Elladan looked embarrassed. "Well, I hadn't actually thought of that yet." Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Wonderful. You get me all worried and anxious, and then don't even have a solution. Thanks, brother, next time leave me happy in my ignorance." Elladan looked hurt. "You don't have any outstanding ideas yourself, Elrohir. And anyway, there is one thing we can do- we can warn father."
Elrohir nodded- why hadn't he thought of that? Elladan gave him a smug look and he turned, pretending not to see, suddenly very interested in the goings-on of Greenwood. Silinde was just finishing his report, and yawned deeply, stretching in his seat like a cat. "Alas friends, I must leave you now, I am required in Lorien before the month is up." Legolas was dismayed. "Must you go already?" Silinde got to his feet, brushing the creases from the velvet of his robe. "I'm afraid so, gwador. To hear more news from home, you will just have to come back and visit." Legolas stood and embraced his friend. "Come home soon, won't you Legolas?" Legolas smiled weakly and nodded at Silinde's quiet plea. "I will try."
Elladan rose and cleared his throat. "I'll show you back to my room so you can change." "Thank you." Silinde turned to Elrohir and Legolas. "Farewell my friends." Legolas managed a faint smile, sorry to lose his friend. "May you have a safe journey." Elrohir stepped forward and clasped Silinde's hand warmly. "Farewell meldir, it was good to see you again." Legolas watched sadly as Elladan and Silinde wound through the crowd and disappeared from sight. He hadn't realised how much he missed his forest home until tonight. Sensing the prince's sorrow, Elrohir laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You will see them all again. There is nothing to stop you going home for a while."
Legolas' heart jumped- Glorfindel. In his excitement, the prince had entirely forgotten about the older lord. After his initial unease he hadn't missed the Elda all evening, but his failure to appear was now beginning to worry Legolas. Pulling himself together, he turned his head to acknowledge Elrohir. "You are right; perhaps it is time to pay a visit home." Anxiety gnawing at him, Legolas quickly made his excuses. "I'm still feeling a little tired, I think I will retire." Elrohir's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Already? But the night is barely begun!" Legolas shifted impatiently, anxious to find Glorfindel and head off the row he feared would be coming. "I want to rest, sorry." He took a deep breath, ensuring his face remained calm. "I'll see you in the morning, thank you for a wonderful evening." "Sleep well, Legolas." Elrohir was wary, but didn't voice his suspicions. He embraced his friend and allowed the blonde to scurry away towards the door, his haste betraying his assertion that he was weary. Elrohir wasn't fooled by Legolas' pretence- this was about Glorfindel and he knew it.
Across the room, Elladan was pushing his way through the throngs of elves to his twin. Elrohir waved in greeting as his brother drew near. Elladan finally managed to reach him, and immediately glanced with confusion over his shoulder. "Where is Legolas?" "He went back to his quarters." Elladan made a face. "Already?" He shook his head, as if brushing the entire matter aside. "But anyway, listen- I've spoken to father." "And?" "I was getting to that," the elder twin snapped irritably. "I told him about Silinde; he seemed troubled. He said he was going to write to Thranduil himself, so we may be receiving a host from the Greenwood after all." "And none too soon," Elrohir replied grimly, "perhaps if his family see what is happening, they will succeed in persuading him where we have failed."
Chapter 10
Legolas' stomach churned as his hand stilled over the door handle. Something was wrong, he was certain of it. The ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach threatened to make him ill, but he steadied his hand and swallowed the rising bile. The fact that Glorfindel had simply disappeared instead of coming to chastise him rattled Legolas; although he told himself Glorfindel had changed the familiar fear had returned with a vengeance. Summoning all his courage, he clasped the door handle firmly. Perhaps he could just creep in unnoticed? He willed his hand to stop shaking and turned the handle, pushing the door slightly ajar.
Nothing happened.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Legolas pushed the door open and stepped inside. A cry of pain filled the air as a fist rammed into the side of Legolas' face and he was slammed against a wall. Legolas heard the door bang shut and began to shake uncontrollably again. The pungent smell of alcohol breath filled his nose and his heart broke at the realisation that he was trapped, that it was all going to happen just as it had before. Glorfindel backhanded the prince, sending him sprawling on the floor. Blood ran from Legolas' temple where his head had hit the floor, and it seemed to the prince that his head was gripped in a vice.
Betrayed, Legolas tried to speak but was silenced by a sharp kick from Glorfindel. "Silence, whore! You're nothing but a common little slut." Legolas flinched as the older lord spat in his face, and finally found his voice. "Please, I never... I don't know-" a brutal hand in his hair, yanking him to his feet, cut him off. "I did not give you permission to speak, whore. I saw you tonight with that messenger, dancing. His hands were all over you. And your precious Elrohir. He wants you, you know, lusts for you. He can't keep his eyes off you," he snarled. Legolas would have laughed if he hadn't been so afraid. Glorfindel was jealous of Silinde? And Elrohir? They had been his friends from childhood. He struggled to speak as a blow knocked the wind out of him. "Glorfindel, I swear-" "SILENCE!" The blonde lord roared, eyes bulging and face turning purple in fury. Gone was the handsome, charming, refined elf that Legolas once knew; in his place was this hideous, terrifying monster. A strong hand fastened around Legolas' neck, choking the air out of him, and the prince braced himself for further blows. What Glorfindel did next was the last thing Legolas had expected.
The Elda pushed him back against the wall and pinned him firmly with one arm. With his free hand he ripped open the front of the prince's robes and ran possessive fingers over the younger elf's chest. "You are mine, pen-neth, and I think you need to be reminded of it." He drew a slim knife from his belt and held it up for the prince to see. Legolas trembled as Glorfindel traced a red line down his chest and abdomen, stopping just below his naval. He held his breath, waiting for the Elda's next move. Legolas bit his lip to keep from crying out as Glorfindel suddenly slashed diagonally across his right nipple, beads of blood welling up along the long red gash. The blade left his skin momentarily and Legolas found himself being flipped round to face his captor. Glorfindel's eyes were black and cold- there was no trace of the warmth and affection they had held, once upon a time. The fist in Legolas' hair tightened threateningly. "On your knees."
Legolas was left no choice but to obey when the hand yanked downwards, unbalancing him and sending him to the floor. The knife immediately reappeared, pressing dangerously into the prince's throat. From his place on the stone flagstones, Legolas was now eyelevel with Glorfindel's straining arousal, pressing against the laces of his breeches. Legolas' heartbeat quickened, the awful reality of his situation sinking in. His captor's hand loosed its grip on Legolas' scalp, and reached down to untie the laces, freeing Glorfindel's erection from the confines of his leggings. "Try anything and you die." Legolas felt acutely the cold steel at his throat and remained still, scarcely daring to breathe though his heart hammered in his chest. Grabbing the back of his head, Glorfindel forced Legolas' face forwards until the head of the Elda's erection pressed at the prince's lips. "Suck."
Feeling the constant pressure of the dagger, Legolas parted his lips and let Glorfindel thrust into the warm depth of his mouth. He tried not to gag as the head of the Elda's engorged member pressed at the back of his throat. This couldn't be happening to him.
Glorfindel's thrusts became wilder and more erratic, and Legolas braced himself, expecting to have to swallow the older lord's hot semen. He was surprised when Glorfindel stilled and pulled out, still hard. "Face the wall, stay kneeling." Knowing the Elda could easily slit his throat, Legolas slowly complied, the knife following him round. "I've been waiting for you princeling, planning what I could do to you." Legolas shivered at the relish in Glorfindel's tone, and closed his eyes tightly. "All the ways you could be punished for your disobedience."
The knife began stroking up and down the side of the prince's neck.
"Put your hands behind your back." Eyes still clenched shut, trying to block out reality, Legolas crossed his wrists behind him. What was Glorfindel going to do? Legolas started as he felt the knife disappear and be replaced by rope at his wrists. "Yes my pet, I came prepared." There was a sadistic smirk in Glorfindel's voice that froze Legolas' blood in his veins. Glorfindel wasn't going to end this quickly- he would take his time until he was satisfied.
Securely tied, his arms were hoisted uncomfortably above the prince's head, with the end of the rope tied fast to an iron torch bracket on the wall above. Legolas felt the dagger against his skin once more, but this time at the base of his back. Glorfindel leaned close enough for Legolas to feel his hot breath, reeking with alcohol, in his ear. "I think, princeling, you need to be shown who you really belong to." In one swift motion, the Elda slit his shirt and robes down the back and tore away the remainder of the robe. Working quickly, he deftly slit both sleeves and tossed aside the ragged remains of the shirt. Running his hands down the prince's newly revealed torso, Glorfindel licked his lips appreciatively. "Flawless." Legolas tried to move away from the possessive hands but was tied in such a way that he was utterly helpless. Glorfindel moved back, and the sound of leather brushing against velvet told Legolas he was removing his belt. The younger elf held his breath, waiting for the pain of leather biting into his flesh.
Crack!
The first blow stung but Legolas bore it in silence, years of practise teaching him endurance.
Crack!
Glorfindel struck again, moving further down his back. The blows came faster now, leaving welts over his lower back. Legolas bit his tongue to keep silent at the fiery pain spreading over his entire back. It had never gone on this long before. Glorfindel re-angled his strokes so that the belt now cut across the welts left by previous blows, leaving blood trickling down Legolas' back. Finally, the prince whimpered loudly as a particularly violent blow left a bloody cut from shoulder to hip. Knowing he had nearly broken him, Glorfindel smiled smugly and lowered the belt in his hand. Fear and anger oozed from Legolas' every pore, and Glorfindel felt himself grow even harder as he surveyed his handiwork.
The knot keeping the rope tied to the bracket was undone but the rope remained looped over it. The Elda pulled down hard, causing Legolas' arms to be yanked upwards painfully, forcing the younger elf to stumble unsteadily to his feet to prevent his shoulders being dislocated. Legolas was hoisted upwards by the rope until he stood on the balls of his feet, effectively leaving him hanging from the rope that bound him. The position of his arms meant he was bent over, his face pressed against the wall, chafing uncomfortably against his skin, and hips thrust back towards Glorfindel. Glorfindel grabbed him by the hair again, twisting his head painfully to face his tormentor. " You are *my* whore, nobody can have you but me." Picking his knife again, Glorfindel cut away the prince's leggings and pulled off his boots, leaving him naked. Legolas flinched in disgust as Glorfindel fondled his buttocks, dipping his fingers into the crack between. The reaction earned him a sharp smack to his right buttock, warning him to show more respect.
Rough hands forced his legs apart, and Legolas felt his face flush, humiliated, as he was fully exposed to Glorfindel's eyes. The hand moved between his legs, probing and exploring every inch of flesh. The Elda had touched him like this before, yes; but this time it was different. This time Legolas only wanted to recoil in disgust. A finger circled his opening and Legolas jerked away as best he could, panicking. "No!" Glorfindel's answer was another ringing slap to his behind. "I told you to be silent!" Glorfindel stood back and the prince sighed in relief as the hated hands left him. The relief was short lived however, as a faint rustling confirmed his worst fear. Stripped of his own clothes, Glorfindel stood behind the younger elf once more, the head of his erection pushed up against Legolas' tight opening. Tremor after tremor shook the young elf's body, terror wringing tears from his eyes. Oh Gods no, please, he wouldn't.
"Glorfindel, plea-" his words were cut off by his own scream as Glorfindel thrust, unlubricated, into his tight channel. There was a fiery agony and he felt his flesh tear as the lord rammed his length mercilessly into him, paying no heed to the blood running down the prince's thighs. Legolas closed his eyes and uttered a desperate prayer to the Valar as Glorfindel continued his assault. After what seemed like hours, but could only have been a few minutes, Glorfindel released inside him, pouring his hot, salty essence into the younger elf's abused passage. The room spun and blackness tinged the edge of the prince's vision, heralding the onset of unconsciousness. Legolas' tortured mind vaguely registered Glorfindel's withdrawal before he passed out, his mind seeking the respite of elven dreams.
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 8
"Achoo!"
Legolas groaned loudly and flopped back bonelessly against the pillows, exhausted. He had woken up feeling hot and sticky, with a throbbing head and blocked nose and had immediately turned to Glorfindel for help. Once he had finally persuaded his reluctant lover out of bed to fetch a healer, Legolas had begun sneezing, a completely new sensation for him. And, he decided, an altogether unpleasant one, as it felt much like the front of his head was about to explode.
A grumbling Glorfindel dispatched to the healers, Legolas was left alone in bed; coughing, sniffing, sneezing and generally feeling sorry for himself. "A..a..achoo!" Legolas growled in frustration. 'This is ridiculous,' he thought crossly, 'elves don't get colds!'
Which is exactly what he had said to Elrond when he arrived and pronounced that somehow, Legolas had contracted a chest cold. Finishing up his examination, Elrond had simply raised a dark, elegant eyebrow, as if reproaching the prince for questioning his judgement.
He had probed about how Legolas had managed to catch a chill in the few short hours since his discharge, asking if he had been exposed to any cold water, making Glorfindel smirk knowingly and Legolas squirm uncomfortably in his bed. Elrond had appeared suspicious, but questioned no further, evidently deciding that he didn't want to know.
Instead, he issued a stern warning that Legolas' weakened lungs made him vulnerable to colds and infection until he had fully healed, and threatened that if he didn't stay in bed until further notice, Legolas would find himself tied to a bed in the Healing House.
Feeling suitably chastised, Legolas had meekly assured Elrond of his obedience and submitted to the various foul-tasting concoction the half-elf had prescribed. He had been relieved when the lore master had left, but soon began to reassess his opinion. Glorfindel had left soon after for a hunting trip and wouldn't be back until after sundown, leaving the prince quite alone. He played distractedly with the sapphire ring on his finger, twisting it aimlessly.
Elrond had evidently told his sons of Legolas' sorry state, as within the hour of Glorfindel's departure, Elrohir had arrived in his full leather and burgundy uniform, clearly due to leave for the border patrol. 'Just as I as about to sleep,' Legolas thought crossly. An hour with nothing to distract him from the strange and deeply disagreeable sensations brought on by a cold (something like having an orc sitting on your chest, he had now decided), and Legolas was feeling greatly out-of-sorts.
However, if he was hoping for sympathy and companionship from Elrohir, Legolas was sadly disappointed. Instead, Elrohir had merely stopped by on his way to the guardhouse to castigate the blonde for not taking better heed of his health, before delivering several dire warnings of pneumonia and bronchitis if the prince did not remain confined to bed for at least a week.
Elrohir had at least offered a glass of water to the parched elf, but all gratitude Legolas had felt soon evaporated when Elrohir began to mutter darkly about how the entire episode showed that Glorfindel wasn't properly taking care of the prince.
Though he knew Elrohir meant well, Legolas was incensed, out of loyalty to Glorfindel and his own pride. He was sick and tired of the peredhel's mollycoddling- he was quite capable of taking care of himself. Elrohir had apologised without sounding particularly convinced, and even now, hours after the dark-haired elf had left for the eastern border, Legolas' resentment was smouldering. The glass of water left by Elrohir was now also empty, and the throbbing in Legolas' head had increased tenfold, adding to the prince's choler. He turned on his side and sunk heavily into the mattress, sulking at the injustice of it all.
With his new view of the room, a small corner of thick parchment caught his eye, half-hidden beneath a book on the commode. Curious, Legolas reached out his hand to tug at the paper, eventually managing to extricate it from beneath the book.
Recognition made Legolas suddenly feel hotter that he already was, and a knot of guilt formed in his stomach. He ran his thumb over the royal seal of Greenwood, now broken. He knew he should reply, had known it when he first opened the letter the previous night, but what could he say? He also knew he would have to said some sort of word soon, as judging by the worried tone of his father's letter, Thranduil was on the verge of riding over to Imladris himself.
The concern and hurt that he had sent no word home came through clearly in the letter, making Legolas feel even worse than he had before. *Your family miss you, when will you come home? * Legolas hadn't the heart to tell them that he couldn't come to see them, that Glorfindel wanted him to sever all contact with Greenwood. It was why he had hidden the letter in the first place, and why he hadn't seen his brothers in a century. There were anxious inquiries about his health and the cause and severity of his injuries- a development Legolas assumed Elrond must have informed them of- all questions that deserved answers.
But they would have to wait. Legolas dispiritedly tucked the envelope into the top drawer of the commode, promising himself that he would get round to replying soon.
Chapter 9
Legolas looked himself up and down in the mirror with a critical eye. No, the light blue was better. This one made him look even paler than usual.
He laid aside the navy robe he had been holding up and picked up the pale one again. Where once he would have thrown on the first suitable garment in his path, he now had to carefully consider his choice. He was still wan and pale from his newly-recovered-from cold, and over his seven weeks of recuperation from his various injuries, he had also lost a good deal of weight.
All sorts of rumours had been flying around since he had collapsed outside the stables and news of his recent illness had only added to the furious gossip. Much as Legolas pretended that the rumours didn't bother him, he was still keen to dispel them by appearing tonight at the New Year Revels looking as normal and healthy as possible.
The revel that night would be the first time the prince was allowed to leave his 'rest' in he and his lover's quarters. And none too soon- being shut up in that place was beginning to give Legolas cabin fever. Actually, on second thoughts, the paler blue actually made him look washed out.
Legolas shook himself- if he was starting to think like this, he had definitely been cooped up too long. Elrond's special permission to attend the revel had been obtained, and hopefully, if he survived the night unscathed, the half-elf's good will might be extended to cover daytime excursions.
He settled at last for a long, loose green robe he had bought from his forest home, and slipped into it. "Green suits you." Legolas whirled around to see Glorfindel standing in the doorway, leaning languidly against the frame. The prince suddenly had a strange feeling that the Elda had been watching him the whole time. He was startled to find that the thought actually unsettled him.
The blonde lord looked resplendent in crimson velvet, a gold circlet gleaming on his brow. Tight black breeches accented his well-muscled legs and complimented the deep red of his tunic- in short he looked stunning. But somehow, the sight, which would have once quickened his blood, now left Legolas cold. Telling himself that he was only feeling tired and out-of- sorts from these weeks of solitude and inactivity, Legolas did his best to appear enthusiastic. "I am ready."
He joined Glorfindel in the doorway and remained passive as the Elda's arm assumed it's usual position, wrapped firmly around Legolas' waist. Legolas soon found the pressure constrictive and was forced to fight the urge to peel the arm away and walk by himself. Why did Glorfindel always have to lead him around like he was a puppy?
As they entered the Great Hall, Legolas forgot all his frustrations. The hall was decked out in a thousand colours, paper lanterns and flower garlands hanging from every possible perch. The room was packed with elves merrymaking and the sound of music and singing filled the air. Everyone was dressed in their finery, and taking full advantage of all that was on offer; dancing, singing and drinking with friends. Despite his tiredness, the bustling atmosphere made Legolas grin with excitement.
"I'll go get us something to drink."
Legolas nodded distractedly and moved off into the crowd as Glorfindel left in search of refreshments. He scanned the hall for people he knew, but was unable to recognise any of his friends in the mass of colourful robes and milling bodies.
Legolas was beginning to feel the curious stares of the guests surrounding him, their eyes boring into his back. He was sure he could hear people whispering when his back was turned, speculating over his thinner frame and long convalescence. How weak they must think him. Oh, Gods, what if they knew? Panic was beginning to creep into the prince's mind, turning his chest to stone, when a voice from behind broke through his tangled thoughts. "Legolas!" He knew that voice, but surely it couldn't be-
Legolas spun around to face the voice's owner, a grin breaking out on his pale face. Before him stood a tall, broad-shouldered elf with long auburn hair in ornate braids. He wore a matching grin and was dressed in a rich, midnight blue robe, lovingly embroidered in silver, and setting off his blue eyes nicely. Legolas could scarcely believe his eyes.
"Silinde!" He gazed at his childhood friend, almost lost for words. The other elf enfolded Legolas in a big bear hug, chuckling merrily at the prince's surprise. "It has been far too long, friend." With one last squeeze, Silinde stepped back, concern knitting his brow. "You've lost weight. I can feel all of your ribs." Legolas shrugged self-consciously before quickly changing the subject.
"When did you arrive in the valley? How long can you stay?" It would be wonderful to catch up with the news from the Greenwood. "Alas, I cannot stay. I am riding as your father's messenger to Lorien, and I only stopped by on the way to enjoy some company on New Year's Eve. I leave later this very night." Legolas heart sank in disappointment. "The twins," Silinde continued, a twinkle of amusement entering his eyes, "were kind enough to lend me a robe for the celebrations tonight, so I do not shame myself in my dusty travel clothes before great persons such as yourself, your Royal Highness," delivering a mock bow, eliciting laughter from behind.
Legolas rolled his eyes playfully, and then looked over Silinde's shoulder. Only now did he realise that Elrohir and Elladan were also present, standing a polite distance away as the Greenwood elves greeted each other. Elladan stepped forward. "It's good to see you up and about again, Legolas," he offered, before being silenced by a sharp elbow in his side, courtesy of Elrohir.
Legolas shot Elrohir a grateful look, but the damage was already done. Silinde looked at Legolas suspiciously. "You've been ill? Legolas, what's going on?" Sensing the curiosity of the other revellers, many of whom were now discreetly trying to eavesdrop on their conversation, Legolas shifted uncomfortably. Picking up on the blonde's unease, Silinde lowered his voice. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"
"This way"
Legolas nodded apologetically to Elrohir and Elladan, the latter of whom was looking distinctly sheepish, and led Silinde through the throngs of people out to the veranda. From there, they went down the small set of steps into the gardens, eventually settling on a bench beneath an ivy trellis, shielded from prying eyes.
As they sat down together, Silinde immediately turned to the prince. "What did he mean? And what's this about you being injured? We received a letter from Lord Elrond; he said you'd been hurt but he didn't say how. Your father wrote, but you never replied." Legolas winced at the accusation in his friend's tone. "It's nothing serious Silinde, I swear. I just got into a fight." Silinde snorted. "Funny, when I asked Elrohir, he told me you'd fallen down the stairs." Legolas groaned inwardly. He should have thought to get his story straight.
"Honestly, Silinde, it was nothing. And I was barely ill; it was only a cold. Elrond did make me stay in bed for a week- which is what Elladan referred to- but he was being overprotective." Silinde shot him a withering glare. "Elves don't get sick unless they're already badly weakened, Legolas. Why won't you tell me what is going on? Don't you trust me anymore?" The hurt in Silinde's tone made Legolas sigh. "It's not that, I swear mellon. I. I just can't talk about this. I'm sorry," he finished lamely. Silinde turned away, gazing out into the twilight. "Why do you never come home, Legolas? Your family misses you." "I know."
For a while they sat in awkward silence, avoiding each other's gaze, until Legolas could bear the tension in the air no longer. Reaching out to clasp Silinde's hand, he looked up pleadingly at his friend. "Please, Silinde, let's not ruin tonight. It's been so long, can't we just enjoy this time together?" Silinde's heart melted at the misery in Legolas' face and smiled. "Of course, you are right." He rose, pulling Legolas up with him. "Lets go back inside." Legolas breathed a sigh of relief and eagerly complied, linking arms with his friend as they made their way inside to join the other revellers.
Back inside the Great Hall, the twins were waiting for them, drinks in hand. As Elrohir passed him a goblet of wine, Legolas' heart skipped a beat. Where was Glorfindel? He had left to find drink before Legolas wandered off. Frantically scanning the crowd, Legolas began feeling panicky- Glorfindel was nowhere to be seen. "Legolas?" A look of concern and curiosity was on Elrohir's face. "Have you seen Glorfindel? He was supposed to be getting drinks, I completely forgot." He couldn't disguise the anguish and anxiety in his voice, and Silinde frowned. "Who is Glorfindel? Surely you don't mean-" "Yes, the balrog slayer," Elrohir cut in impatiently, trying to focus on Legolas, who was now looking very white and anxious. "Relax, he will come and find you. He's probably got distracted himself, talking to old friends." "I guess," Legolas concurred uneasily. The younger twin was probably right- it would be a very typical thing for Glorfindel to do- but he still felt vaguely worried. The Elda had returned with drinks to find him gone, Legolas could be sure his temper would be roused.
The sharp chiming of metal against crystal interrupted the prince's gloomy thoughts. A hush descended on the room and all turned to face Lord Elrond, standing on the high dais clearing his throat. The lore master looked impressive in his velvet robes of office and mithril coronet, but his intimidating majesty was belied by his genial smile. "Friends, welcome one and all to the New Year Revels!" Applause greeted his opening statement, and Elrond held up his arms for quiet. "Carouse, dance and be merry, for today we celebrate the passing of the old and the beginning of the new. Let all indulge themselves in whatever pursuit their addiction may lead them to," he gestured to the musicians, "strike up, let the Revels begin!"
The minstrels began to play and a dance tune filled the air. "Will you dance?" Legolas looked up in surprise at Silinde's questioning face. He took one last look around the hall, and seeing Glorfindel nowhere, put his drink down and tentatively allowed his old friend to lead him onto the dance floor and into a spirited waltz. Letting Silinde lead and giving himself over to the music, the prince began to relax. They spun happily around the hall, enjoying each other's much missed company, and when the first song ended, Legolas was reluctant to stop. He next gave each of the twins a dance, before insisting, exhausted, that they sit a while.
In the far corner of the hall they settled together, tired but laughing and joking, all thought of Glorfindel fled from Legolas' thoughts. With the prince deep in conversation with Elrohir, Silinde murmured quietly in Elladan's ear, so as not to alert the blonde. "What's going on? What does Glorfindel have to do with Legolas?" "He has been Legolas' lover since he arrived in Imladris," the elder twin replied, equally cautious. The auburn-haired elf cocked an incredulous eyebrow. "If that is the case, then why did he pale with worry at the thought of his wrath?" Silinde snarled, exasperated, "Why does no one tell me what is going on?" Elladan shrugged non-committaly. "That is something for Legolas to tell you, when he is ready."
Silinde glanced over at Legolas to make sure the blonde was still chatting happily with the younger twin. "Will you at least tell me if Glorfindel is the reason Legolas hasn't contacted his family in over a century?" "I really think you need to talk to Legolas about this," he whispered evasively, causing Silinde's lips to purse in displeasure. A particularly scathing comment was on the tip of his tongue but a sharp kick from Elladan alerted him to the fact that Elrohir and Legolas had finished their conversation and were looking at the other pair curiously. Silinde bit his tongue and rescued the uncomfortable moment by smiling broadly at the prince and steering the conversation towards safer ground.
"Shall I tell you the news from Greenwood?" Legolas' face instantly lit up and he nodded vehemently. "Please do," he replied eagerly, "it's been so long." Silinde took a long drink from his goblet and settled himself comfortably in his chair, preparing for a long tale.
As Legolas listened, transfixed, to Silinde's words, Elrohir felt a gentle tugging at the back of his robes. Sliding back discretely on the cushions he sat on, Elrohir moved to join his twin, putting a little distance between the Greenwood elves and themselves. He bent his lips to his brother's ear. "What is it Elladan?" "Silinde suspects something. He knows it is Glorfindel who has been cutting Legolas off from the Greenwood all these years," Elladan breathed back, "He seems to distrust Glorfindel." Elrohir did his best to appear scathing without attracting the other elves' attention. "With good reason." "Perhaps," Elladan replied, a trace of irritation audible, "but you know he has the king's ear. It will do no good to start a diplomatic row between our realms. If he convinces Thranduil that an Imaldrin lord is holding his son hostage - however accurate that might be," he added quickly, seeing the look on his brother's face, "we may have an extremely angry king accusing us of complicity. He may even decide Legolas is a prisoner here."
Reluctantly, Elrohir had to agree that the older twin had a point. "So what do you propose we do about it?" Elladan looked embarrassed. "Well, I hadn't actually thought of that yet." Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Wonderful. You get me all worried and anxious, and then don't even have a solution. Thanks, brother, next time leave me happy in my ignorance." Elladan looked hurt. "You don't have any outstanding ideas yourself, Elrohir. And anyway, there is one thing we can do- we can warn father."
Elrohir nodded- why hadn't he thought of that? Elladan gave him a smug look and he turned, pretending not to see, suddenly very interested in the goings-on of Greenwood. Silinde was just finishing his report, and yawned deeply, stretching in his seat like a cat. "Alas friends, I must leave you now, I am required in Lorien before the month is up." Legolas was dismayed. "Must you go already?" Silinde got to his feet, brushing the creases from the velvet of his robe. "I'm afraid so, gwador. To hear more news from home, you will just have to come back and visit." Legolas stood and embraced his friend. "Come home soon, won't you Legolas?" Legolas smiled weakly and nodded at Silinde's quiet plea. "I will try."
Elladan rose and cleared his throat. "I'll show you back to my room so you can change." "Thank you." Silinde turned to Elrohir and Legolas. "Farewell my friends." Legolas managed a faint smile, sorry to lose his friend. "May you have a safe journey." Elrohir stepped forward and clasped Silinde's hand warmly. "Farewell meldir, it was good to see you again." Legolas watched sadly as Elladan and Silinde wound through the crowd and disappeared from sight. He hadn't realised how much he missed his forest home until tonight. Sensing the prince's sorrow, Elrohir laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You will see them all again. There is nothing to stop you going home for a while."
Legolas' heart jumped- Glorfindel. In his excitement, the prince had entirely forgotten about the older lord. After his initial unease he hadn't missed the Elda all evening, but his failure to appear was now beginning to worry Legolas. Pulling himself together, he turned his head to acknowledge Elrohir. "You are right; perhaps it is time to pay a visit home." Anxiety gnawing at him, Legolas quickly made his excuses. "I'm still feeling a little tired, I think I will retire." Elrohir's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Already? But the night is barely begun!" Legolas shifted impatiently, anxious to find Glorfindel and head off the row he feared would be coming. "I want to rest, sorry." He took a deep breath, ensuring his face remained calm. "I'll see you in the morning, thank you for a wonderful evening." "Sleep well, Legolas." Elrohir was wary, but didn't voice his suspicions. He embraced his friend and allowed the blonde to scurry away towards the door, his haste betraying his assertion that he was weary. Elrohir wasn't fooled by Legolas' pretence- this was about Glorfindel and he knew it.
Across the room, Elladan was pushing his way through the throngs of elves to his twin. Elrohir waved in greeting as his brother drew near. Elladan finally managed to reach him, and immediately glanced with confusion over his shoulder. "Where is Legolas?" "He went back to his quarters." Elladan made a face. "Already?" He shook his head, as if brushing the entire matter aside. "But anyway, listen- I've spoken to father." "And?" "I was getting to that," the elder twin snapped irritably. "I told him about Silinde; he seemed troubled. He said he was going to write to Thranduil himself, so we may be receiving a host from the Greenwood after all." "And none too soon," Elrohir replied grimly, "perhaps if his family see what is happening, they will succeed in persuading him where we have failed."
Chapter 10
Legolas' stomach churned as his hand stilled over the door handle. Something was wrong, he was certain of it. The ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach threatened to make him ill, but he steadied his hand and swallowed the rising bile. The fact that Glorfindel had simply disappeared instead of coming to chastise him rattled Legolas; although he told himself Glorfindel had changed the familiar fear had returned with a vengeance. Summoning all his courage, he clasped the door handle firmly. Perhaps he could just creep in unnoticed? He willed his hand to stop shaking and turned the handle, pushing the door slightly ajar.
Nothing happened.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Legolas pushed the door open and stepped inside. A cry of pain filled the air as a fist rammed into the side of Legolas' face and he was slammed against a wall. Legolas heard the door bang shut and began to shake uncontrollably again. The pungent smell of alcohol breath filled his nose and his heart broke at the realisation that he was trapped, that it was all going to happen just as it had before. Glorfindel backhanded the prince, sending him sprawling on the floor. Blood ran from Legolas' temple where his head had hit the floor, and it seemed to the prince that his head was gripped in a vice.
Betrayed, Legolas tried to speak but was silenced by a sharp kick from Glorfindel. "Silence, whore! You're nothing but a common little slut." Legolas flinched as the older lord spat in his face, and finally found his voice. "Please, I never... I don't know-" a brutal hand in his hair, yanking him to his feet, cut him off. "I did not give you permission to speak, whore. I saw you tonight with that messenger, dancing. His hands were all over you. And your precious Elrohir. He wants you, you know, lusts for you. He can't keep his eyes off you," he snarled. Legolas would have laughed if he hadn't been so afraid. Glorfindel was jealous of Silinde? And Elrohir? They had been his friends from childhood. He struggled to speak as a blow knocked the wind out of him. "Glorfindel, I swear-" "SILENCE!" The blonde lord roared, eyes bulging and face turning purple in fury. Gone was the handsome, charming, refined elf that Legolas once knew; in his place was this hideous, terrifying monster. A strong hand fastened around Legolas' neck, choking the air out of him, and the prince braced himself for further blows. What Glorfindel did next was the last thing Legolas had expected.
The Elda pushed him back against the wall and pinned him firmly with one arm. With his free hand he ripped open the front of the prince's robes and ran possessive fingers over the younger elf's chest. "You are mine, pen-neth, and I think you need to be reminded of it." He drew a slim knife from his belt and held it up for the prince to see. Legolas trembled as Glorfindel traced a red line down his chest and abdomen, stopping just below his naval. He held his breath, waiting for the Elda's next move. Legolas bit his lip to keep from crying out as Glorfindel suddenly slashed diagonally across his right nipple, beads of blood welling up along the long red gash. The blade left his skin momentarily and Legolas found himself being flipped round to face his captor. Glorfindel's eyes were black and cold- there was no trace of the warmth and affection they had held, once upon a time. The fist in Legolas' hair tightened threateningly. "On your knees."
Legolas was left no choice but to obey when the hand yanked downwards, unbalancing him and sending him to the floor. The knife immediately reappeared, pressing dangerously into the prince's throat. From his place on the stone flagstones, Legolas was now eyelevel with Glorfindel's straining arousal, pressing against the laces of his breeches. Legolas' heartbeat quickened, the awful reality of his situation sinking in. His captor's hand loosed its grip on Legolas' scalp, and reached down to untie the laces, freeing Glorfindel's erection from the confines of his leggings. "Try anything and you die." Legolas felt acutely the cold steel at his throat and remained still, scarcely daring to breathe though his heart hammered in his chest. Grabbing the back of his head, Glorfindel forced Legolas' face forwards until the head of the Elda's erection pressed at the prince's lips. "Suck."
Feeling the constant pressure of the dagger, Legolas parted his lips and let Glorfindel thrust into the warm depth of his mouth. He tried not to gag as the head of the Elda's engorged member pressed at the back of his throat. This couldn't be happening to him.
Glorfindel's thrusts became wilder and more erratic, and Legolas braced himself, expecting to have to swallow the older lord's hot semen. He was surprised when Glorfindel stilled and pulled out, still hard. "Face the wall, stay kneeling." Knowing the Elda could easily slit his throat, Legolas slowly complied, the knife following him round. "I've been waiting for you princeling, planning what I could do to you." Legolas shivered at the relish in Glorfindel's tone, and closed his eyes tightly. "All the ways you could be punished for your disobedience."
The knife began stroking up and down the side of the prince's neck.
"Put your hands behind your back." Eyes still clenched shut, trying to block out reality, Legolas crossed his wrists behind him. What was Glorfindel going to do? Legolas started as he felt the knife disappear and be replaced by rope at his wrists. "Yes my pet, I came prepared." There was a sadistic smirk in Glorfindel's voice that froze Legolas' blood in his veins. Glorfindel wasn't going to end this quickly- he would take his time until he was satisfied.
Securely tied, his arms were hoisted uncomfortably above the prince's head, with the end of the rope tied fast to an iron torch bracket on the wall above. Legolas felt the dagger against his skin once more, but this time at the base of his back. Glorfindel leaned close enough for Legolas to feel his hot breath, reeking with alcohol, in his ear. "I think, princeling, you need to be shown who you really belong to." In one swift motion, the Elda slit his shirt and robes down the back and tore away the remainder of the robe. Working quickly, he deftly slit both sleeves and tossed aside the ragged remains of the shirt. Running his hands down the prince's newly revealed torso, Glorfindel licked his lips appreciatively. "Flawless." Legolas tried to move away from the possessive hands but was tied in such a way that he was utterly helpless. Glorfindel moved back, and the sound of leather brushing against velvet told Legolas he was removing his belt. The younger elf held his breath, waiting for the pain of leather biting into his flesh.
Crack!
The first blow stung but Legolas bore it in silence, years of practise teaching him endurance.
Crack!
Glorfindel struck again, moving further down his back. The blows came faster now, leaving welts over his lower back. Legolas bit his tongue to keep silent at the fiery pain spreading over his entire back. It had never gone on this long before. Glorfindel re-angled his strokes so that the belt now cut across the welts left by previous blows, leaving blood trickling down Legolas' back. Finally, the prince whimpered loudly as a particularly violent blow left a bloody cut from shoulder to hip. Knowing he had nearly broken him, Glorfindel smiled smugly and lowered the belt in his hand. Fear and anger oozed from Legolas' every pore, and Glorfindel felt himself grow even harder as he surveyed his handiwork.
The knot keeping the rope tied to the bracket was undone but the rope remained looped over it. The Elda pulled down hard, causing Legolas' arms to be yanked upwards painfully, forcing the younger elf to stumble unsteadily to his feet to prevent his shoulders being dislocated. Legolas was hoisted upwards by the rope until he stood on the balls of his feet, effectively leaving him hanging from the rope that bound him. The position of his arms meant he was bent over, his face pressed against the wall, chafing uncomfortably against his skin, and hips thrust back towards Glorfindel. Glorfindel grabbed him by the hair again, twisting his head painfully to face his tormentor. " You are *my* whore, nobody can have you but me." Picking his knife again, Glorfindel cut away the prince's leggings and pulled off his boots, leaving him naked. Legolas flinched in disgust as Glorfindel fondled his buttocks, dipping his fingers into the crack between. The reaction earned him a sharp smack to his right buttock, warning him to show more respect.
Rough hands forced his legs apart, and Legolas felt his face flush, humiliated, as he was fully exposed to Glorfindel's eyes. The hand moved between his legs, probing and exploring every inch of flesh. The Elda had touched him like this before, yes; but this time it was different. This time Legolas only wanted to recoil in disgust. A finger circled his opening and Legolas jerked away as best he could, panicking. "No!" Glorfindel's answer was another ringing slap to his behind. "I told you to be silent!" Glorfindel stood back and the prince sighed in relief as the hated hands left him. The relief was short lived however, as a faint rustling confirmed his worst fear. Stripped of his own clothes, Glorfindel stood behind the younger elf once more, the head of his erection pushed up against Legolas' tight opening. Tremor after tremor shook the young elf's body, terror wringing tears from his eyes. Oh Gods no, please, he wouldn't.
"Glorfindel, plea-" his words were cut off by his own scream as Glorfindel thrust, unlubricated, into his tight channel. There was a fiery agony and he felt his flesh tear as the lord rammed his length mercilessly into him, paying no heed to the blood running down the prince's thighs. Legolas closed his eyes and uttered a desperate prayer to the Valar as Glorfindel continued his assault. After what seemed like hours, but could only have been a few minutes, Glorfindel released inside him, pouring his hot, salty essence into the younger elf's abused passage. The room spun and blackness tinged the edge of the prince's vision, heralding the onset of unconsciousness. Legolas' tortured mind vaguely registered Glorfindel's withdrawal before he passed out, his mind seeking the respite of elven dreams.