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 16
"Do you want to take this, tithen gwanur?" Calenfen held aloft an ornate glass oil lamp, a beautiful example of Elven craftsmanship. Legolas shook his head silently. Calenfen placed the object back on the table and began sifting through the books on the shelves. Vanamar bustled through from the bedchamber, boasting an armful of robes and tunics. "Would you like me to pack these?" Legolas shook his head again. Calenfen ceased his rummaging. "Come, Legolas, you must take some things with you. You can't ride back to Greenwood naked." Vanamar shot Calenfen a dirty look, and Legolas shrugged emotionlessly.. "Only the ones from Greenwood." Vanamar gave him a kind smile. "Whatever you wish, brother. We can buy you new things in Greenwood, you needn't take anything you don't want."
To be truthful there was little he wished to take back to Greenwood with him; all the possessions he acquired during his time with Glorfindel only served to remind him of the blonde lord. That lamp had been a begetting day gift from the early years of their relationship, those robes he had bought because Glorfindel liked the colours. These were memories he didn't want chasing him to Greenwood. Legolas sat on the green chaise-longue, wrapped in a warm blanket and leaning his head on the cushioned arm. Both Elrohir and his brothers had fussed at length about his coming back here, fearing his delicate physical state and mental exhaustion, but in all practicality he was the only one who could sort what was to stay and what he would bring home. He appreciated his brother's efforts- they had stayed here in his old quarters to pack his things for the journey back, knowing it would be painful and difficult for Legolas to go through all his belongings alone, but in truth he would prefer to ride to the forest with nothing but a change of clothes. Even nodding at the various objects left him feeling drained, and the sight of seemingly innocuous objects sent waves of unease through him- when Calenfen innocently held up a belt for his approval, Legolas had shivered uncontrollably for over five minutes.
"Are you sure this is all you want to take?" Calenfen asked, concerned at the two meagre bags of personal effects, all his younger brother wanted to take away from a century in the valley sanctuary. Legolas nodded, still unwilling to speak unless absolutely necessary. Elrond had warned them their little brother would likely be unresponsive much of the time, but it still hurt them that he felt he couldn't talk to them. Vanamar frowned as he surveyed the small saddlebags, his thought clearly matching Calenfen's. "This is not very much, gwanur." Seeing Legolas' determined face, he capitulated, trailing off. "Very well, what would you like us to do with everything else?" Legolas' eyes clouded with sadness. "Burn it all."
For a moment, both his brothers stood in stunned silence at this extraordinary request. Vanamar was the first to recover. "Burn it? Everything?" At his youngest brother's tacit confirmation, Vanamar sighed. "As you wish, Legolas. It shall be done." Legolas breathed a sound that might have been 'thank you', then curled up, weary, on the chaise-longue. Calenfen watched broken hearted, seeing his brother, once a fearless warrior, so small and dejected. He slid his hands beneath Legolas and gathered his brother's body against his chest, lifting him from the couch. "Come, pen-neth, you need to rest." A nod from Vanamar told him the elder brother would stay behind to make arrangements for the remainder of Legolas' belongings. Calenfen carried Legolas protectively from the room, letting his younger brother rest his head on his shoulder and fall into an exhausted sleep.
In Elrond's chambers, a fretful Elrohir was waiting for them. The half- elf's unquiet betrayed his conviction that forcing Legolas to go back to the scene of his violation would have adverse consequences for the blonde, and seeing the fatigued prince in his brother's arms only seemed to heighten this opinion, if the accusing look he flashed Calenfen was anything to go by. Ignoring the unfriendly glance, Calenfen let Elrohir relieve him of his precious burden. Over the last week he had come to understand the half-elf's apparent adoration of his brother, and while at first he had been suspicious of his motives, Elrohir's actions had proved his misgivings false. Rather that taking offence at Elrohir's over protectiveness, Calenfen had come to find it reassuring; Legolas had someone who truly cared for him, even if the blonde didn't realise it yet. It would be good to have Elrohir in Greenwood with them: during the foster year the twins had spent with them as children both he and his brothers had come to like and respect the peredhil, and Legolas would eventually need more love and support than a brother could provide.
* * * "Are you certain about this, Elrohir?" The youngest son of Elrond lifted his head, determination showing in his stance. "Yes father. I will always love you and Elladan, but Legolas needs me more." Elrond gave him a bittersweet smile. "I know, and I am proud of you, nîn-ion. You are always welcome in Imladris at any time; this will always be your home." "Thank you ada." Elrond pulled his son into a tight embrace, fighting tears. "You will visit, won't you?" "Of course!" Elrohir looked up with tear-filled eyes. "And I will write often." Elrond patted his back. "Then you have my every blessing, pen-neth. Follow your heart to Greenwood." Elrohir nearly laughed in his relief. "I will, ada."
* * * "You are taking that?" Elrohir almost groaned aloud, but caught himself in time. "Yes, Elladan, I am taking that." He quickly stuffed the object of his brother's scorn, a small wooden toy horse, to the bottom of his pack. Elladan snorted derisively. "Are you planning on joining the elflings of Greenwood in their games? Shall I pack a skipping rope?" Elrohir fought with every ounce of his self- control to prevent himself turning round and slapping his twin. "Elladan, I am going to live there! I want to take a few sentimental items, and this reminds me of my childhood. Why must you be so snide and difficult, this is hard enough already!" His mirror image turned away, sullen, and took a seat on the windowsill. "I don't want you to go, Eli."
Elrohir's countenance softened his brother's use of his childhood name. He came to sit next to him on the window seat, wrapping an arm around his waist despite Elladan's refusal to look in his direction. "I know, gwanur, but I have to be with him. I love him, Elladan." "I thought you loved me too." Elrohir sighed, guilt ridden yet self-assured at the same time. "You know I do, and I always will; you are my brother, my other half. But Legolas needs me, and I am in love with him! I never meant to hurt you Elladan, but I have to do this. I am sorry." Elladan laid his head on his twin's shoulder, eyes downcast. "Sorry I've been so awkward today, Eli. I just don't want to lose you." "It won't be forever, Ell. I shall visit you as often as I can manage, and you know you are always welcome in Greenwood." Elladan managed to smile bravely. "You're right brother. We will manage this."
* * * Erestor surveyed the bustling scene before him; all about the courtyard, the elves of Greenwood were making last minute preparations for their departure. Panniers were fastened and secured, lembas and water stowed away, and the last of their riding gear put on. It all seemed so final now; up until today it almost felt as if Elrohir and Legolas would never really leave. "Are you sure Legolas is fit to ride, Elrond?"
Elrond heaved a sigh and considered his oldest friend's question. "No, meldir, I am not. If it were up to me, I would have him rest here for at least another fortnight. But Thranduil is right- he pines for home and if I were not to release him to his family's keeping now, he would fade faster than he already is. Legolas no longer feels safe in Imladris." Erestor nodded to himself; Elrond's words made sense. "I am sure Elrohir will take care of him on the journey back." "I have no doubt of it."
Suddenly the flurry of activity in the courtyard ceased as the Greenwood escort stood to attention. The two older Imladris elves turned in time to see Thranduil sweep into the square, bright emerald cloak setting him apart from his fellow countrymen. Behind him followed Calenfen and Vanamar, flanking a shuffling Elrohir and Legolas. Legolas was tightly cocooned in a cloak although the day was warm, and appeared only to be walking with the support of Elrohir. The sunlight showed him to be pale and wan, and dark circles still bloomed beneath bloodshot eyes. The guardians of the Greenwood remained silent, respectfully averting their eyes, but their sorrow was palpable to the intuitive Lord of the Valley. One of the troop led a grey mare Elrond recognised as Elrohir's own mount, bringing her up in front of the half-elf and the prince. Elrohir helped Legolas onto the mare's back, and let the blonde settle in a comfortable position before running over to embrace his father. "I love you ada." "I love you too, pen-neth." He squeezed the body in his arms. "Where is your brother, Elrohir?" His son looked up placidly. "We have said our goodbyes. It is too painful for him to watch me leave." Elrond nodded; they had always been so close, this would be hardest on Elladan. Elrond reluctantly released his son. "Farewell, Erestor." Tears threatening to escape his eyes, Elrohir turned away and swung himself up onto his mare, seating himself behind Legolas. After exchanging a few private words with Elrond, Thranduil gave the signal to mount and the remainder of their party were quickly ready to depart.
Erestor caught Elrohir whisper something in Legolas' ear, and watched as Legolas leant back against the younger twin's chest and surrendered the reins to his control. Legolas still looked haunted and extremely fragile, and a pang of anxiety suddenly struck the advisor. What if Elrohir's love wasn't enough to reclaim the prince? Would Legolas fade like Celebrían? Pushing aside such distressing thoughts, Erestor tried to concentrate on the moment- this might be the last time he saw both youngsters for some time.
With one last nod to Elrond, Thranduil gave the word and the party stirred their horses into action, cantering across the cobblestones onto the paths beyond. Elrond watched the departing figure of his son fade into a speck in the distance, swallowing down his pain at their parting.
"You will meet again, meldir." Erestor's words barely penetrated Elrond's silent anguish, and it was a few moments before he could form a response. "I hope you are right, Erestor." The dark-haired counsellor frowned, puzzled. "You do not expect him to visit the valley? He seems as reluctant to leave as you are to see him go." "I do not doubt his devotion to either Imladris or his family, but I have the strangest of feelings." The elf lord tailed off, gazing at the spot his son had stood minutes before. "My intuition tells me we will be parted for far longer than we intended. Centuries even."
Alarmed, Erestor attempted to deny such gloomy predictions. "Come, Elrond, surely you are simply feeling the strain of his departure. It is understandable, that you should be distressed at your youngest flying the nest. You should rest, you are bound to feel better if you take some time to refresh yourself." Elrond nodded vaguely. "Perhaps."
The lore master let himself be walked back to his chambers, letting his advisor's babble wash over him as they travelled. Regardless of what Erestor said, his farseeing abilities had never led him astray in the past. He would not see Elrohir for a *very* long time.
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Chapter 17
Legolas grimaced at the burning pain in his backside. It had been almost 6 weeks, surely by now. The jolting movement of the horse beneath him had reopened his wound and was causing him untold agony as they kept up a relentless pace to Greenwood. Legolas was beginning to regret leaving Imladris so soon; perhaps living a little longer with the ghosts of Glorfindel would have been preferable to the fatigue that pressed down on him like a smothering blanket. He was so exhausted he could barely concentrate on the simplest of tasks for any longer than a few seconds. For the last three weeks he had had to rely solely on Elrohir to feed, bathe and dress him, to lay him down at night and lift him on and off their mount.
Besides, the ghosts of his former lover seemed to be chasing him back to Greenwood regardless. Legolas' cheeks flushed deep red as he thought of the humiliation he had suffered throughout the journey. Every night now he awoke screaming, having to be comforted in the darkness by his ever-present Elrohir. The nightmares he sought to flee were increasing in frequency and severity, and he could not hold back his whimpers of fear as he relived his violation nightly, cringing in the knowledge his weakness was clearly on display to all his father's guards, elves he had once trained and served with, who had once respected him.
To further add to his shame, his internal wound had reopened with the intolerable pressure of riding for several hours every day, and now bled profusely. Thranduil had ensured Legolas was given plenty rest breaks, but it was not enough to prevent the bleeding. To Legolas' utter mortification, the red liquid had soaked through his leggings on three occasions, exposing his shameful secret to both his brothers and the entire escort. None had commented, but he was certain they were laughing at his sorry state, condemning his feeble state. He had heard that the souls of elves who were raped fled to Mandos' Halls, but no such relief had been afforded him. The blonde choked back an anguished sob; why would the Valar not end his torment? Why would they not let him die?
Elrohir had been quick to spot his trouble, and had taken him to a secluded copse to treat the injury in as much privacy as could be afforded him, but Legolas still felt disgraced by the incidents. However hard his family and Elrohir attempted to reassure him, the prince's self-disgust threatened to consume him.
Every time Vanamar or Calenfen attempted to make conversation while they made camp, they were met with cold silence from their younger brother. Legolas hated seeing their hurt expressions, but he couldn't bring himself to utter a word. His internal pain was not something the blonde could express- he felt dead inside, yet ached at the same time. There weren't words that adequately described how he felt- all contradictions and confusion. He hated being so dependant, but was so exhausted he could not be more grateful than when Elrohir lifted him down from the mare and laid him on a cloak to rest.
Legolas suppressed a groan as the creature beneath him chafed and rubbed at his injury, sending spikes of agony up inside him. Knowing he could only endure, he leant back against Elrohir, closing his eyes. Perhaps sweet sleep could keep the pain at bay.
* * * Elrohir felt his beloved go limp against him, indicating the onset of sleep. Holding the reins in one hand, Elrohir wrapped his free arm around the prince's waist, holding him securely in place against his body. The peredhel was more worried than ever; Legolas was getting worse instead of better. The distance that the twin had hoped would reassure the blonde seemed only to make him more withdrawn. Elrohir was acutely aware of the indignity Legolas was suffering from; being cared for like a child, having the blood from his wound seep through his breeches. His love was drawing further away from him and he was powerless to stop it.
Spurring his mare on faster, Elrohir rode up level with Thranduil, attempting to catch his eye. He succeeded, and the blonde king slowed to a pace that was easier on his injured son, falling back in the group with Elrohir. "He needs to lie down and rest." Thranduil looked torn, caught between his concern for the effect their pace had on his son, and his eagerness to return home where Legolas could truly rest. "We are very near now Elrohir. We will ride on- he is sleeping now- and we will be able to get him to the healers quickly. If we stop now, he will only have to endure for longer. There is little we can do out here in the forest." Elrohir nodded reluctantly. He accepted Thranduil's reasoning, but the prince's current pain was palpable.
The half-elf swore under his breath as he felt the first droplets of rain on the back of his neck, the threatening grey clouds finally making good on their promise of rain. After the first sprinkling of rain drops, the heavens abruptly opened, drenching them all to the skin within minutes. /Wonderful!/ Elrohir thought bitterly, /this is just what Legolas needs right now; to be soaked to the bone!/ He urged his horse to haste, dreaming of the hot bath and warm bed that awaited he and Legolas in Greenwood.
* * * The rain lashed down on them, falling so thick that Elrohir could barely see the horse in front of him. Water streamed into his eyes, leaving them stinging and red, and he clung ever tighter to Legolas. Despite the heavy downpour and their almost breakneck speed, the prince had barely stirred since he fell asleep, failing to respond to any of Elrohir's attempts at conversation.
Unable to see two feet in front of him, Elrohir could only hope and pray that they were near the palace. With the current level of visibility, they could be in Mordor for all Elrohir could tell. A looming black shape that passed above his head told him the group had just passed beneath a bridge or arch of such, then he heard a sound that made his heart soar. The clatter of hooves on stone beneath him proved to him that they had finally arrived in the palace stable yard, a realisation that nearly made him grin with relief.
The command for halt came and swiftly the dark courtyard was awash with bright lanterns to aid the royal party. With the newly provided light, Elrohir could begin to recognise his surroundings; the same yard he had arrived in more than two hundred years ago as a frightened elfling, coming to foster with his elder twin. Stable hands and grooms hurried forward to lead away the horses, servants unloading the extra baggage. Elrohir leapt down from his place behind Legolas and troubled, pulled the prince down from the saddle and into his arms. The blonde remained asleep and unresponsive, not even the jarring movement of being taken down from the horse not breaking into his unconsciousness.
Elrohir felt a hasty tug at his elbow- Thranduil had dismounted and was now fidgeting worriedly behind him. "Come, quickly now." Sharing the King's eagerness for haste, Elrohir hurried after him, Legolas feeling feather light in his arms. As the chaos taking place in the yard faded out of hearing, Elrohir realised his ears were ringing, and his heartbeat so loudly he could count its strokes.
With no thought to etiquette, dripping a trail of rainwater behind them, the three hurried through the grand stone passages, alarming passers-by and servants alike with their bedraggled appearance and the prince cradled securely in the half-elf's arms. Elrohir recognised the route- they were going to Legolas childhood room. During his years at Greenwood it was a route he had travelled many a time, though in happier circumstances.
Inside the heart of the palace, reserved for members of the royal family, the surroundings took on a less formal, more personal air. Gone were the magnificent murals of military victories and ostentatious decoration; instead the walls were lined with family portraits and paintings Elrohir recognised as the work of the various children Thranduil and his late wife had bore. A few he could even identify as the childhood work of Legolas. The chambers were luxurious yet cosy, the furniture bearing the evidence of many years of children's abuse. Looking down at his precious armful, Elrohir prayed the homely surroundings would aid his love's recovery.
At last, Thranduil opened the door to Legolas' room, ushering Elrohir inside. Elrohir paused a moment in shock- the room was exactly as he had last seen it years ago, immaculate and seemingly not an object moved or out of place from the way Legolas like it. Seeing the amazement in the younger elf's eyes, Thranduil offered a brusque explanation. "We kept his room exactly as he left it: we always hoped he might return to it this way." He glanced sadly at his son. "We never imagined he would be returning like this."
Taking a calming breath, Thranduil busied himself lifting the quilt to allow Elrohir to lay Legolas on the mattress. Together they worked on peeling away the layers of wet clothing, which were doubtless doing nothing to improve the prince's fragile health. Once done, Thranduil lovingly pulled the duvet back over his son's body, tucking it about his form as they waited for the arrival of the healers.
A respectful knocking at the chamber door testified the healing elves had arrived, and Thranduil eagerly summoned them in. Led by Calenfen, three shocked looking healers edged inside. The trio wasted no time in flocking to Legolas' bedside, folding back the quilt and beginning their examination. "We will need hot water please." Calenfen nodded mutely and swiftly departed, looking thoroughly distressed. Thranduil and Elrohir remained quietly in the room as the healers probed wounds and muttered together over their findings. The tension in the room was beginning to affect Elrohir, fighting the desperate urge to pace around the room, knowing it would only disturb the others.
A brief respite was provided by Calenfen's return, armed with a kettle of hot water and basin. The tallest of the healers took it gratefully and together the three pale elves worked together, dressing the wounds. Elrohir couldn't bring himself to watch as they gently probed the wound that pained him most, and out of the corner of his eye the twin could see that Thranduil was similarly affected. After what felt an interminable period, the healers finally replaced the divan over Legolas and rose, the most senior clearing his throat to indicate the termination of their examination.
"A word, your majesty?" Thranduil nodded curtly and gestured towards the door. Realising this was not a conference he was invited to, Elrohir waited until the four older elves had swept out of the room, then quietly sat down on the mattress beside the prince. He took one limp hand in his and gently pulled it into his lap, stroking the near-translucent skin. He almost started as the mattress beside him sunk, having forgotten Calenfen was still in the room. Reaching out with his other hand for Calenfen's slender one, Elrohir clasped hands with the older prince, squeezing in solidarity. They sat, linked in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.
The squeak of an un-oiled door brought them back to reality. The pale, frightened face of Lothriel hovered in the doorway. "Legolas."
The elf-maiden rushed gracelessly to the bedside, kneeling by her younger brother's side and wringing her hands in despair. Close on her heels came Nimros, a warrior Elrohir had seldom seen perturbed. He found the sight of the great swordsman upset was actually somewhat unsettling. Their younger siblings, who had clearly been waiting outside the door with trepidation, quickly followed the elder pair and soon Thalion, Minuial, Nimros and Lothriel were crowded around the bed, looking fearfully to Calenfen and Elrohir for explanation. The eldest of the group, Lothriel, spoke first. "What happened? Why doesn't he wake?"
Elrohir bit his lip. What should he say? Legolas would be mortified if they were to hear the full extent of his torture and he didn't wish to betray his friend, but they had a right to know what ailed their little brother. Seeing the warring emotions displayed on Elrohir's face, Calenfen came to his rescue, absolving him from the responsibility. "He was raped."
Silence met this blunt pronouncement, four identical looks of shock swiftly directed at the speaker. Seeing they were simply too stunned to utter a word, he answered the unspoken questions in their eyes. "He was beaten for years by Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin, his chosen mate. The abuse escalated in recent months, culminating in one night last month. He was tortured then violated." He gestured to the half-elf at his side. "Elrohir and Lord Elrond found him and arrested his tormentor. Glorfindel has been banished from the Elven realms."
All was still as the children on Thranduil attempted to take in this new, horrific information. Finally, Minuial smiled sadly at Elrohir, laying her hand atop the clasped hands of her brother and friend. "Thank you, for rescuing him Elrohir. We are greatly indebted to you." The younger twin shook his head guiltily. "I did nothing, we came too late."
Thalion, who had been tenderly tucking stray hair behind his little brother's ear, looked up bitterly. "Aye, you did nothing, 'friend'," he spat angrily, "you sat by and watched as your seneschal used him as target practise!" "Thalion," Calenfen spoke with warning in his tone. Sensing the impending confrontation, Minuial rose from the floor. "Legolas needs to rest, let us leave him in peace." She yanked Thalion and Nimlos to their feet. "Now, brothers." Thalion shot Elrohir a venomous glare. "For the sake of my brother I will leave that he might rest. But I will not forget this." An exasperated Minuial shoved him unceremoniously through the door, dragging and apologetic Nimlos behind her. As the door clicked shut behind them, Lothriel got to her feet.
"Forgive him Elrohir; it isn't you he is truly angry at." Elrohir managed a nod but no words. True, it was understandable that Thalion would be angry and upset has his brother's defilement, but his former friend's words still stung. Legolas stirred restlessly on the bed, as if sensing the tension that had built up in the room, and Elrohir instinctively squeezed his hand reassuringly.
Lothriel heaved a deep sigh, rubbing her brow with one slender hand. "Firloss and Vanamar are with ada and the healers, I cannot say when they will return." She looked concerned at Calenfen. "You need to rest and eat, little brother, it was a long ride." Calenfen took her outstretched hand and forced himself to stand. As his sister led him to the door, he looked back, looking askance at Elrohir. The peredhel understood his reluctance to leave. "I will watch over him." Calenfen nodded, appeased, and followed his sister out of the door.
Alone with Legolas at last, Elrohir first stripped off his layers of wet clothing, hanging them by the fire. He rummaged in the nearest set of drawers for a robe to borrow, knowing Legolas would gladly donate one if he had been conscious. Once dry and dressed, he lay himself down by the prince, on top on the divan, content to watch him sleep. The blonde twitched occasionally, pained expressions passing over his features.
Elrohir's heart went out to the prince- another nightmare. Soon, the familiar quiet whimpers and murmurs escaped his sleeping lips, tremors running through the wasted body. Elrohir gathered the cold hand in his, rubbing and blowing on them to coax the blood back into the frozen limbs. Legolas took a shuddering breath, as if gasping for air, and Elrohir sat up alarmed. The prince murmured louder, loud enough for Elrohir to make out the words. "Please. why will you not let me die? Why."
The desperation in the words was both pitiful and chilling to Elrohir at the same time. Legolas wanted to die, he truly wished for death. But if he had lost the will to live, then that would mean. Elrohir thought back to the last painful months with his mother, watching her fade as she succumbed to the Elven-sickness. He could not help the tears that sprung from his eyes; the thought of watching Legolas fade away to a mere shell as he had done with his mother was too painful for words, and if Legolas' unconscious admission was true, there would be no hope of persuading him to seek respite over Sea. Weeping silently, Elrohir curled up on his side, cradling his beloved's limp hands, sobbing into the pillow. "Melamin, please don't leave me, don't leave me all alone."
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 16
"Do you want to take this, tithen gwanur?" Calenfen held aloft an ornate glass oil lamp, a beautiful example of Elven craftsmanship. Legolas shook his head silently. Calenfen placed the object back on the table and began sifting through the books on the shelves. Vanamar bustled through from the bedchamber, boasting an armful of robes and tunics. "Would you like me to pack these?" Legolas shook his head again. Calenfen ceased his rummaging. "Come, Legolas, you must take some things with you. You can't ride back to Greenwood naked." Vanamar shot Calenfen a dirty look, and Legolas shrugged emotionlessly.. "Only the ones from Greenwood." Vanamar gave him a kind smile. "Whatever you wish, brother. We can buy you new things in Greenwood, you needn't take anything you don't want."
To be truthful there was little he wished to take back to Greenwood with him; all the possessions he acquired during his time with Glorfindel only served to remind him of the blonde lord. That lamp had been a begetting day gift from the early years of their relationship, those robes he had bought because Glorfindel liked the colours. These were memories he didn't want chasing him to Greenwood. Legolas sat on the green chaise-longue, wrapped in a warm blanket and leaning his head on the cushioned arm. Both Elrohir and his brothers had fussed at length about his coming back here, fearing his delicate physical state and mental exhaustion, but in all practicality he was the only one who could sort what was to stay and what he would bring home. He appreciated his brother's efforts- they had stayed here in his old quarters to pack his things for the journey back, knowing it would be painful and difficult for Legolas to go through all his belongings alone, but in truth he would prefer to ride to the forest with nothing but a change of clothes. Even nodding at the various objects left him feeling drained, and the sight of seemingly innocuous objects sent waves of unease through him- when Calenfen innocently held up a belt for his approval, Legolas had shivered uncontrollably for over five minutes.
"Are you sure this is all you want to take?" Calenfen asked, concerned at the two meagre bags of personal effects, all his younger brother wanted to take away from a century in the valley sanctuary. Legolas nodded, still unwilling to speak unless absolutely necessary. Elrond had warned them their little brother would likely be unresponsive much of the time, but it still hurt them that he felt he couldn't talk to them. Vanamar frowned as he surveyed the small saddlebags, his thought clearly matching Calenfen's. "This is not very much, gwanur." Seeing Legolas' determined face, he capitulated, trailing off. "Very well, what would you like us to do with everything else?" Legolas' eyes clouded with sadness. "Burn it all."
For a moment, both his brothers stood in stunned silence at this extraordinary request. Vanamar was the first to recover. "Burn it? Everything?" At his youngest brother's tacit confirmation, Vanamar sighed. "As you wish, Legolas. It shall be done." Legolas breathed a sound that might have been 'thank you', then curled up, weary, on the chaise-longue. Calenfen watched broken hearted, seeing his brother, once a fearless warrior, so small and dejected. He slid his hands beneath Legolas and gathered his brother's body against his chest, lifting him from the couch. "Come, pen-neth, you need to rest." A nod from Vanamar told him the elder brother would stay behind to make arrangements for the remainder of Legolas' belongings. Calenfen carried Legolas protectively from the room, letting his younger brother rest his head on his shoulder and fall into an exhausted sleep.
In Elrond's chambers, a fretful Elrohir was waiting for them. The half- elf's unquiet betrayed his conviction that forcing Legolas to go back to the scene of his violation would have adverse consequences for the blonde, and seeing the fatigued prince in his brother's arms only seemed to heighten this opinion, if the accusing look he flashed Calenfen was anything to go by. Ignoring the unfriendly glance, Calenfen let Elrohir relieve him of his precious burden. Over the last week he had come to understand the half-elf's apparent adoration of his brother, and while at first he had been suspicious of his motives, Elrohir's actions had proved his misgivings false. Rather that taking offence at Elrohir's over protectiveness, Calenfen had come to find it reassuring; Legolas had someone who truly cared for him, even if the blonde didn't realise it yet. It would be good to have Elrohir in Greenwood with them: during the foster year the twins had spent with them as children both he and his brothers had come to like and respect the peredhil, and Legolas would eventually need more love and support than a brother could provide.
* * * "Are you certain about this, Elrohir?" The youngest son of Elrond lifted his head, determination showing in his stance. "Yes father. I will always love you and Elladan, but Legolas needs me more." Elrond gave him a bittersweet smile. "I know, and I am proud of you, nîn-ion. You are always welcome in Imladris at any time; this will always be your home." "Thank you ada." Elrond pulled his son into a tight embrace, fighting tears. "You will visit, won't you?" "Of course!" Elrohir looked up with tear-filled eyes. "And I will write often." Elrond patted his back. "Then you have my every blessing, pen-neth. Follow your heart to Greenwood." Elrohir nearly laughed in his relief. "I will, ada."
* * * "You are taking that?" Elrohir almost groaned aloud, but caught himself in time. "Yes, Elladan, I am taking that." He quickly stuffed the object of his brother's scorn, a small wooden toy horse, to the bottom of his pack. Elladan snorted derisively. "Are you planning on joining the elflings of Greenwood in their games? Shall I pack a skipping rope?" Elrohir fought with every ounce of his self- control to prevent himself turning round and slapping his twin. "Elladan, I am going to live there! I want to take a few sentimental items, and this reminds me of my childhood. Why must you be so snide and difficult, this is hard enough already!" His mirror image turned away, sullen, and took a seat on the windowsill. "I don't want you to go, Eli."
Elrohir's countenance softened his brother's use of his childhood name. He came to sit next to him on the window seat, wrapping an arm around his waist despite Elladan's refusal to look in his direction. "I know, gwanur, but I have to be with him. I love him, Elladan." "I thought you loved me too." Elrohir sighed, guilt ridden yet self-assured at the same time. "You know I do, and I always will; you are my brother, my other half. But Legolas needs me, and I am in love with him! I never meant to hurt you Elladan, but I have to do this. I am sorry." Elladan laid his head on his twin's shoulder, eyes downcast. "Sorry I've been so awkward today, Eli. I just don't want to lose you." "It won't be forever, Ell. I shall visit you as often as I can manage, and you know you are always welcome in Greenwood." Elladan managed to smile bravely. "You're right brother. We will manage this."
* * * Erestor surveyed the bustling scene before him; all about the courtyard, the elves of Greenwood were making last minute preparations for their departure. Panniers were fastened and secured, lembas and water stowed away, and the last of their riding gear put on. It all seemed so final now; up until today it almost felt as if Elrohir and Legolas would never really leave. "Are you sure Legolas is fit to ride, Elrond?"
Elrond heaved a sigh and considered his oldest friend's question. "No, meldir, I am not. If it were up to me, I would have him rest here for at least another fortnight. But Thranduil is right- he pines for home and if I were not to release him to his family's keeping now, he would fade faster than he already is. Legolas no longer feels safe in Imladris." Erestor nodded to himself; Elrond's words made sense. "I am sure Elrohir will take care of him on the journey back." "I have no doubt of it."
Suddenly the flurry of activity in the courtyard ceased as the Greenwood escort stood to attention. The two older Imladris elves turned in time to see Thranduil sweep into the square, bright emerald cloak setting him apart from his fellow countrymen. Behind him followed Calenfen and Vanamar, flanking a shuffling Elrohir and Legolas. Legolas was tightly cocooned in a cloak although the day was warm, and appeared only to be walking with the support of Elrohir. The sunlight showed him to be pale and wan, and dark circles still bloomed beneath bloodshot eyes. The guardians of the Greenwood remained silent, respectfully averting their eyes, but their sorrow was palpable to the intuitive Lord of the Valley. One of the troop led a grey mare Elrond recognised as Elrohir's own mount, bringing her up in front of the half-elf and the prince. Elrohir helped Legolas onto the mare's back, and let the blonde settle in a comfortable position before running over to embrace his father. "I love you ada." "I love you too, pen-neth." He squeezed the body in his arms. "Where is your brother, Elrohir?" His son looked up placidly. "We have said our goodbyes. It is too painful for him to watch me leave." Elrond nodded; they had always been so close, this would be hardest on Elladan. Elrond reluctantly released his son. "Farewell, Erestor." Tears threatening to escape his eyes, Elrohir turned away and swung himself up onto his mare, seating himself behind Legolas. After exchanging a few private words with Elrond, Thranduil gave the signal to mount and the remainder of their party were quickly ready to depart.
Erestor caught Elrohir whisper something in Legolas' ear, and watched as Legolas leant back against the younger twin's chest and surrendered the reins to his control. Legolas still looked haunted and extremely fragile, and a pang of anxiety suddenly struck the advisor. What if Elrohir's love wasn't enough to reclaim the prince? Would Legolas fade like Celebrían? Pushing aside such distressing thoughts, Erestor tried to concentrate on the moment- this might be the last time he saw both youngsters for some time.
With one last nod to Elrond, Thranduil gave the word and the party stirred their horses into action, cantering across the cobblestones onto the paths beyond. Elrond watched the departing figure of his son fade into a speck in the distance, swallowing down his pain at their parting.
"You will meet again, meldir." Erestor's words barely penetrated Elrond's silent anguish, and it was a few moments before he could form a response. "I hope you are right, Erestor." The dark-haired counsellor frowned, puzzled. "You do not expect him to visit the valley? He seems as reluctant to leave as you are to see him go." "I do not doubt his devotion to either Imladris or his family, but I have the strangest of feelings." The elf lord tailed off, gazing at the spot his son had stood minutes before. "My intuition tells me we will be parted for far longer than we intended. Centuries even."
Alarmed, Erestor attempted to deny such gloomy predictions. "Come, Elrond, surely you are simply feeling the strain of his departure. It is understandable, that you should be distressed at your youngest flying the nest. You should rest, you are bound to feel better if you take some time to refresh yourself." Elrond nodded vaguely. "Perhaps."
The lore master let himself be walked back to his chambers, letting his advisor's babble wash over him as they travelled. Regardless of what Erestor said, his farseeing abilities had never led him astray in the past. He would not see Elrohir for a *very* long time.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 17
Legolas grimaced at the burning pain in his backside. It had been almost 6 weeks, surely by now. The jolting movement of the horse beneath him had reopened his wound and was causing him untold agony as they kept up a relentless pace to Greenwood. Legolas was beginning to regret leaving Imladris so soon; perhaps living a little longer with the ghosts of Glorfindel would have been preferable to the fatigue that pressed down on him like a smothering blanket. He was so exhausted he could barely concentrate on the simplest of tasks for any longer than a few seconds. For the last three weeks he had had to rely solely on Elrohir to feed, bathe and dress him, to lay him down at night and lift him on and off their mount.
Besides, the ghosts of his former lover seemed to be chasing him back to Greenwood regardless. Legolas' cheeks flushed deep red as he thought of the humiliation he had suffered throughout the journey. Every night now he awoke screaming, having to be comforted in the darkness by his ever-present Elrohir. The nightmares he sought to flee were increasing in frequency and severity, and he could not hold back his whimpers of fear as he relived his violation nightly, cringing in the knowledge his weakness was clearly on display to all his father's guards, elves he had once trained and served with, who had once respected him.
To further add to his shame, his internal wound had reopened with the intolerable pressure of riding for several hours every day, and now bled profusely. Thranduil had ensured Legolas was given plenty rest breaks, but it was not enough to prevent the bleeding. To Legolas' utter mortification, the red liquid had soaked through his leggings on three occasions, exposing his shameful secret to both his brothers and the entire escort. None had commented, but he was certain they were laughing at his sorry state, condemning his feeble state. He had heard that the souls of elves who were raped fled to Mandos' Halls, but no such relief had been afforded him. The blonde choked back an anguished sob; why would the Valar not end his torment? Why would they not let him die?
Elrohir had been quick to spot his trouble, and had taken him to a secluded copse to treat the injury in as much privacy as could be afforded him, but Legolas still felt disgraced by the incidents. However hard his family and Elrohir attempted to reassure him, the prince's self-disgust threatened to consume him.
Every time Vanamar or Calenfen attempted to make conversation while they made camp, they were met with cold silence from their younger brother. Legolas hated seeing their hurt expressions, but he couldn't bring himself to utter a word. His internal pain was not something the blonde could express- he felt dead inside, yet ached at the same time. There weren't words that adequately described how he felt- all contradictions and confusion. He hated being so dependant, but was so exhausted he could not be more grateful than when Elrohir lifted him down from the mare and laid him on a cloak to rest.
Legolas suppressed a groan as the creature beneath him chafed and rubbed at his injury, sending spikes of agony up inside him. Knowing he could only endure, he leant back against Elrohir, closing his eyes. Perhaps sweet sleep could keep the pain at bay.
* * * Elrohir felt his beloved go limp against him, indicating the onset of sleep. Holding the reins in one hand, Elrohir wrapped his free arm around the prince's waist, holding him securely in place against his body. The peredhel was more worried than ever; Legolas was getting worse instead of better. The distance that the twin had hoped would reassure the blonde seemed only to make him more withdrawn. Elrohir was acutely aware of the indignity Legolas was suffering from; being cared for like a child, having the blood from his wound seep through his breeches. His love was drawing further away from him and he was powerless to stop it.
Spurring his mare on faster, Elrohir rode up level with Thranduil, attempting to catch his eye. He succeeded, and the blonde king slowed to a pace that was easier on his injured son, falling back in the group with Elrohir. "He needs to lie down and rest." Thranduil looked torn, caught between his concern for the effect their pace had on his son, and his eagerness to return home where Legolas could truly rest. "We are very near now Elrohir. We will ride on- he is sleeping now- and we will be able to get him to the healers quickly. If we stop now, he will only have to endure for longer. There is little we can do out here in the forest." Elrohir nodded reluctantly. He accepted Thranduil's reasoning, but the prince's current pain was palpable.
The half-elf swore under his breath as he felt the first droplets of rain on the back of his neck, the threatening grey clouds finally making good on their promise of rain. After the first sprinkling of rain drops, the heavens abruptly opened, drenching them all to the skin within minutes. /Wonderful!/ Elrohir thought bitterly, /this is just what Legolas needs right now; to be soaked to the bone!/ He urged his horse to haste, dreaming of the hot bath and warm bed that awaited he and Legolas in Greenwood.
* * * The rain lashed down on them, falling so thick that Elrohir could barely see the horse in front of him. Water streamed into his eyes, leaving them stinging and red, and he clung ever tighter to Legolas. Despite the heavy downpour and their almost breakneck speed, the prince had barely stirred since he fell asleep, failing to respond to any of Elrohir's attempts at conversation.
Unable to see two feet in front of him, Elrohir could only hope and pray that they were near the palace. With the current level of visibility, they could be in Mordor for all Elrohir could tell. A looming black shape that passed above his head told him the group had just passed beneath a bridge or arch of such, then he heard a sound that made his heart soar. The clatter of hooves on stone beneath him proved to him that they had finally arrived in the palace stable yard, a realisation that nearly made him grin with relief.
The command for halt came and swiftly the dark courtyard was awash with bright lanterns to aid the royal party. With the newly provided light, Elrohir could begin to recognise his surroundings; the same yard he had arrived in more than two hundred years ago as a frightened elfling, coming to foster with his elder twin. Stable hands and grooms hurried forward to lead away the horses, servants unloading the extra baggage. Elrohir leapt down from his place behind Legolas and troubled, pulled the prince down from the saddle and into his arms. The blonde remained asleep and unresponsive, not even the jarring movement of being taken down from the horse not breaking into his unconsciousness.
Elrohir felt a hasty tug at his elbow- Thranduil had dismounted and was now fidgeting worriedly behind him. "Come, quickly now." Sharing the King's eagerness for haste, Elrohir hurried after him, Legolas feeling feather light in his arms. As the chaos taking place in the yard faded out of hearing, Elrohir realised his ears were ringing, and his heartbeat so loudly he could count its strokes.
With no thought to etiquette, dripping a trail of rainwater behind them, the three hurried through the grand stone passages, alarming passers-by and servants alike with their bedraggled appearance and the prince cradled securely in the half-elf's arms. Elrohir recognised the route- they were going to Legolas childhood room. During his years at Greenwood it was a route he had travelled many a time, though in happier circumstances.
Inside the heart of the palace, reserved for members of the royal family, the surroundings took on a less formal, more personal air. Gone were the magnificent murals of military victories and ostentatious decoration; instead the walls were lined with family portraits and paintings Elrohir recognised as the work of the various children Thranduil and his late wife had bore. A few he could even identify as the childhood work of Legolas. The chambers were luxurious yet cosy, the furniture bearing the evidence of many years of children's abuse. Looking down at his precious armful, Elrohir prayed the homely surroundings would aid his love's recovery.
At last, Thranduil opened the door to Legolas' room, ushering Elrohir inside. Elrohir paused a moment in shock- the room was exactly as he had last seen it years ago, immaculate and seemingly not an object moved or out of place from the way Legolas like it. Seeing the amazement in the younger elf's eyes, Thranduil offered a brusque explanation. "We kept his room exactly as he left it: we always hoped he might return to it this way." He glanced sadly at his son. "We never imagined he would be returning like this."
Taking a calming breath, Thranduil busied himself lifting the quilt to allow Elrohir to lay Legolas on the mattress. Together they worked on peeling away the layers of wet clothing, which were doubtless doing nothing to improve the prince's fragile health. Once done, Thranduil lovingly pulled the duvet back over his son's body, tucking it about his form as they waited for the arrival of the healers.
A respectful knocking at the chamber door testified the healing elves had arrived, and Thranduil eagerly summoned them in. Led by Calenfen, three shocked looking healers edged inside. The trio wasted no time in flocking to Legolas' bedside, folding back the quilt and beginning their examination. "We will need hot water please." Calenfen nodded mutely and swiftly departed, looking thoroughly distressed. Thranduil and Elrohir remained quietly in the room as the healers probed wounds and muttered together over their findings. The tension in the room was beginning to affect Elrohir, fighting the desperate urge to pace around the room, knowing it would only disturb the others.
A brief respite was provided by Calenfen's return, armed with a kettle of hot water and basin. The tallest of the healers took it gratefully and together the three pale elves worked together, dressing the wounds. Elrohir couldn't bring himself to watch as they gently probed the wound that pained him most, and out of the corner of his eye the twin could see that Thranduil was similarly affected. After what felt an interminable period, the healers finally replaced the divan over Legolas and rose, the most senior clearing his throat to indicate the termination of their examination.
"A word, your majesty?" Thranduil nodded curtly and gestured towards the door. Realising this was not a conference he was invited to, Elrohir waited until the four older elves had swept out of the room, then quietly sat down on the mattress beside the prince. He took one limp hand in his and gently pulled it into his lap, stroking the near-translucent skin. He almost started as the mattress beside him sunk, having forgotten Calenfen was still in the room. Reaching out with his other hand for Calenfen's slender one, Elrohir clasped hands with the older prince, squeezing in solidarity. They sat, linked in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.
The squeak of an un-oiled door brought them back to reality. The pale, frightened face of Lothriel hovered in the doorway. "Legolas."
The elf-maiden rushed gracelessly to the bedside, kneeling by her younger brother's side and wringing her hands in despair. Close on her heels came Nimros, a warrior Elrohir had seldom seen perturbed. He found the sight of the great swordsman upset was actually somewhat unsettling. Their younger siblings, who had clearly been waiting outside the door with trepidation, quickly followed the elder pair and soon Thalion, Minuial, Nimros and Lothriel were crowded around the bed, looking fearfully to Calenfen and Elrohir for explanation. The eldest of the group, Lothriel, spoke first. "What happened? Why doesn't he wake?"
Elrohir bit his lip. What should he say? Legolas would be mortified if they were to hear the full extent of his torture and he didn't wish to betray his friend, but they had a right to know what ailed their little brother. Seeing the warring emotions displayed on Elrohir's face, Calenfen came to his rescue, absolving him from the responsibility. "He was raped."
Silence met this blunt pronouncement, four identical looks of shock swiftly directed at the speaker. Seeing they were simply too stunned to utter a word, he answered the unspoken questions in their eyes. "He was beaten for years by Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin, his chosen mate. The abuse escalated in recent months, culminating in one night last month. He was tortured then violated." He gestured to the half-elf at his side. "Elrohir and Lord Elrond found him and arrested his tormentor. Glorfindel has been banished from the Elven realms."
All was still as the children on Thranduil attempted to take in this new, horrific information. Finally, Minuial smiled sadly at Elrohir, laying her hand atop the clasped hands of her brother and friend. "Thank you, for rescuing him Elrohir. We are greatly indebted to you." The younger twin shook his head guiltily. "I did nothing, we came too late."
Thalion, who had been tenderly tucking stray hair behind his little brother's ear, looked up bitterly. "Aye, you did nothing, 'friend'," he spat angrily, "you sat by and watched as your seneschal used him as target practise!" "Thalion," Calenfen spoke with warning in his tone. Sensing the impending confrontation, Minuial rose from the floor. "Legolas needs to rest, let us leave him in peace." She yanked Thalion and Nimlos to their feet. "Now, brothers." Thalion shot Elrohir a venomous glare. "For the sake of my brother I will leave that he might rest. But I will not forget this." An exasperated Minuial shoved him unceremoniously through the door, dragging and apologetic Nimlos behind her. As the door clicked shut behind them, Lothriel got to her feet.
"Forgive him Elrohir; it isn't you he is truly angry at." Elrohir managed a nod but no words. True, it was understandable that Thalion would be angry and upset has his brother's defilement, but his former friend's words still stung. Legolas stirred restlessly on the bed, as if sensing the tension that had built up in the room, and Elrohir instinctively squeezed his hand reassuringly.
Lothriel heaved a deep sigh, rubbing her brow with one slender hand. "Firloss and Vanamar are with ada and the healers, I cannot say when they will return." She looked concerned at Calenfen. "You need to rest and eat, little brother, it was a long ride." Calenfen took her outstretched hand and forced himself to stand. As his sister led him to the door, he looked back, looking askance at Elrohir. The peredhel understood his reluctance to leave. "I will watch over him." Calenfen nodded, appeased, and followed his sister out of the door.
Alone with Legolas at last, Elrohir first stripped off his layers of wet clothing, hanging them by the fire. He rummaged in the nearest set of drawers for a robe to borrow, knowing Legolas would gladly donate one if he had been conscious. Once dry and dressed, he lay himself down by the prince, on top on the divan, content to watch him sleep. The blonde twitched occasionally, pained expressions passing over his features.
Elrohir's heart went out to the prince- another nightmare. Soon, the familiar quiet whimpers and murmurs escaped his sleeping lips, tremors running through the wasted body. Elrohir gathered the cold hand in his, rubbing and blowing on them to coax the blood back into the frozen limbs. Legolas took a shuddering breath, as if gasping for air, and Elrohir sat up alarmed. The prince murmured louder, loud enough for Elrohir to make out the words. "Please. why will you not let me die? Why."
The desperation in the words was both pitiful and chilling to Elrohir at the same time. Legolas wanted to die, he truly wished for death. But if he had lost the will to live, then that would mean. Elrohir thought back to the last painful months with his mother, watching her fade as she succumbed to the Elven-sickness. He could not help the tears that sprung from his eyes; the thought of watching Legolas fade away to a mere shell as he had done with his mother was too painful for words, and if Legolas' unconscious admission was true, there would be no hope of persuading him to seek respite over Sea. Weeping silently, Elrohir curled up on his side, cradling his beloved's limp hands, sobbing into the pillow. "Melamin, please don't leave me, don't leave me all alone."