Part One

"Ai, Valar, it is hot today," complained Elrond, throwing off his robe in irritation and hastily binding his long dark locks into a loose tail.

He stepped through the open arch onto the veranda and squinted against the glare, hand lifting to shade his eyes as he turned to the centre of his private courtyard. There a fountain spilled into a marble basin, its liquid tendrils dazzling white, its tuneless melody a restful, lazy undertone to the strident whirring of cicadas nestled high in the boughs of the surrounding trees. The air was still and heavy, permeated with moisture and tension as though a storm was in the offing, yet no clouds barricaded the land from the brilliance of the summer sun.

Anor blazed, the light stark and searing so that few chose to go abroad without a hastily created brimmed hat or parasol. Heat like this was uncommon in Imladris, for its Lord held mastery over the seasons, maintaining his realm in a perpetual springtime. Yet lately, the citizens of the Hidden Vale had been wont to bemoan the weather as Arda's natural changes came to bear upon their sheltered world.

Not that Lord Elrond cared to hear their protests, for it was he who had decided a taste of summer's fire would be an enlightening experience. It was for him, at any rate, and so the people would just have to acclimate themselves to the increase in temperature.

He paused a few steps from the fountain, smiling at the sight before him, for there was the reason he chose to permit Anor free reign in his valley. An elf leaned there upon the polished marble rim, head bowed, golden hair hanging around his face so that his features were hidden. Not that his features, though truly exquisite, were likely to be of interest at the moment. Naked and bound with his hands behind him, on his knees bent over the white basin, his position revealed a rather more erotic set of attributes. Elrond hurried to the kneeling form, undoing his pants in haste, drawing forth his aroused penis, stroking it to spread the slick secretion over the sensitive head. He groaned, smoothing his free hand over the tight round arse displayed before him, and the captive elf jerked in surprise, a sharp gasp leaving him as his head came up to peer over his shoulder.

"Ah! Legolas, you ought not to play in the fountain thus, nor is the basin made for bathing," he chuckled, slipping his hand lower and dipping his fingers into the slippery, hot cavity just behind the scrotum. He pushed in deep and the elf responded, spreading himself wider. "Yet, I doubt a desire to be cleansed prompted your behaviour. What a tempting invitation you present! Shall I indulge your fancy or leave you thus, perhaps to learn who it was who bound you and watch whatever plans they had unfold?"

He didn't wait for Legolas to utter any words either of protest or encouragement. The noble Lord mounted him, thrusting hard to sheath himself fully, unleashing a long, low moan of exultant mastery. His mate bit back a cry and braced as best he could for the coming onslaught and Elrond smiled, glorying in the power he held over this magnificent creature. He took hold of the narrow hips and adjusted Legolas' position, watching as the archer's fingers curled together and knotted in a rigid tangle. Slowly Elrond retreated, drawing his cock out nearly to the very tip, thrilling to see the dark maroon flesh revealed, wet with the sweet fluids of the sylvan's body. Then, just as slowly, he re-entered, pressing in until he could go no further and his heavy balls were flush against the quivering flesh beneath him. With that he began to fuck in earnest, though the pace was not frenzied or wildly impassioned. It would take some little while to reach that point, for Elrond was a potent, virile male and took his time, enjoying the act as much as, if not more, than its culminating release.

He groaned as Legolas squirmed, shifting to enhance the sensation and help the massive organ reach his inner core. Elrond smirked, seeing this, and retreated completely from the enveloping warmth, positioning himself higher and inserting his cock through the tight red ring of the anus. He could not hold back a loud cry of delight for the friction was unbelievably stimulating. Now he increased his pace, for the taut muscles gripped him as the archer's body alternately strove to expel him and draw him deeper. Soon he was pounding into the rigid frame, claiming his mate with all the force and might his loins could muster, bringing himself right to the brink of orgasm and then retreating again. Panting for breath in his excitement, he spread the parted cheeks and leaned down to peer at the double openings, laughing lightly as he blew over them and saw the archer jolt in response.

"Shall I go back in?" he teased, letting his tongue just faintly delve the red folds of the second cavity. Now he paused, for he would hear the elf answer.

"Aye, Hîren," came the wavering, muffled reply and Elrond smiled.

"Which hole shall I spill in first?" he crooned, standing again and dragging the head of his cock across both but penetrating neither. Then he pushed just the tip into the anus again, moaning in pleasure. "This one is so tight, it pleases me well," he whispered, the words husky with his rising passion. Out came the penis and back into the second hole it went, far enough to be felt but not nearly deep enough to give pleasure. "But this one is so slick and soft, wrapping around my flesh almost like your tongue does when you suck me off. Ah! Now that is bliss. Mayhap I should spill down your throat, hmmm?"

"Whatever you desire, Hîren," answered Legolas, his ragged respiration giving the words a desperate quality, "it is my pleasure to receive you. Fill me, Hîren, wherever you will."

"So it should be," agreed Elrond, boring deeper into the compliant form. He pumped in and out several times, noting the subtle signs that he was striking the sylvan's sweet spot unerringly and laughed: a rumbling, sex-charged sound that came closer to a feral growl than any other vocalisation the Elven Lord could produce. He continued until he sensed Legolas tensing for release and once more withdrew. At last this wrung a plaintive cry from his mate as Legolas slumped, limp and gasping, over the rim. His golden hair trailed in the water and the curling ribbons of the fountain's liquid tendrils spattered over his shoulders and down his back.

"Eager today," chortled Elrond, again probing the second hole with his fingers, reaching for the small swell and stroking the hidden gland. Legolas at once inhaled a sharp breath and pushed into the pressure. "Anything in there will do," mused Elrond, "a plain wooden stick, a mithril candle holder, the leg of a chair. You just love to be fucked and it doesn't matter in the least what the object inserted inside you is."

There was a soft little note of denial and the slightest shake of the head in negation from the bound Elf.

"You still maintain it is not so, yet we have proved the premise." The notion gave him an idea and he removed his fingers as he rose. "Very well, we can put it to the test once more, if you require it." He returned to the study and his desk where he rummaged about in a the drawers, searching for something large enough to shove into Legolas' hot little vagina, something unusual that he hadn't shoved in there before, and was interrupted by a discreet cough outside the door. The Elven Lord smiled.

"Come in, Erestor, you're just in time to assist me in a little experiment."

The seneschal entered, took one look at his kinsman, erect cock poking out from the gaping breeches, so wet it fairly glistened, and a huge grin broke free upon his features.

"Does this experiment involve The Sylvan?" asked Erestor, though he was sure it did. His eyes flickered around the room, seeking the lissom elf. Just when he was about to ask, a loud oath sounded from outside and Legolas careened through the archway, naked and aroused, trying to regain his balance and failing. He tumbled to the floor at Erestor's feet as Glorfindel strode into the room.

The Balrog Slayer took one look at Elrond and exploded in another round of crude expletives. "Whatever games you choose to play are none of my affair, but leaving That Wood Elf out in the gardens, like that for all to see is inexcusable!" he thundered, pointing at Legolas and inadvertently aiming his forefinger right at the archer's rigid cock.

Erestor and Elrond laughed at his prudishness.

"You are always welcome to partake of the 'games', Glorfindel," said Elrond. "I've offered you free access to Legolas. Have him at will, my friend, and cease this unnecessary agitation. Look at him! He is hot and ripe and willing and loves to be fucked."

"Fuck him, Glorfindel," urged Erestor, for he had never seen the Balrog-slayer in action and greatly desired to do so. "He likes it rough; you need not restrain yourself."

"You two are sick!" bellowed Glorfindel. "This is unclean lust and unfitting to the Lords of Imladris! I will have that sorcerer thrown out of the realm that you may be freed of his lecherous spell and return to your former selves." He reached to take hold of Legolas again and found Elrond barring his way, the rigid cock jutting out so that he had to jump back to avoid touching it.

"You will do nothing of the kind," Elrond said coldly. "Legolas is bound to me, mine to do with as I please. If you cannot accept that, resign your service to me and leave Imladris."

"I will, then, for this has reached a level of depravity I never imagined possible," said Glorfindel. He spared a last cutting glare at the sylvan and departed through the arch.

"That was unpleasant," complained Erestor, crouching down and fondling Legolas' erection, noting that the organ was restrained at the base with a tightly fitted mithril ring. "He does not seem to like you, though I cannot imagine why." He smiled as The Sylvan shivered under his touch, the glint of revulsion and fear lighting his eyes thrilling to behold. Erestor pulled on the hard shaft as he bent low to claim a kiss, which Legolas fought to avoid, refusing entry to his mouth even as his hips bucked into the compelling grasp.

"Stop teasing him," said Elrond, yanking his cousin away. He raised a warning brow at Legolas as the sylvan rolled to his side and spat, hoping to get the revolting taste of the seneschal from his mouth. "Stop that, Legolas, or I'll make you take him orally."

That threat was sufficient to send a shudder coursing through the archer's body and Erestor laughed to see it.

"I don't know why he prefers you and the twins to me," he complained. "No one else has ever so fully rejected my attentions."

"You are not bonded to him," consoled Elrond. "He cannot help or control his reaction to you any more than he can to us." He took hold of Legolas' arm and hoisted him upright, leading him back outside. "Come along, Erestor, you may have him now since you've been deprived so long." He patted Legolas' rear when the sylvan turned pleading eyes upon him. "Besides, I've been fucking him for a bit and I've a notion to have him suck me while you take you pleasure as you will."

"Ai! I was going to enjoy that very position," griped Erestor, hastening to unfasten his garments.

"Nay, I promised him I would not make him do that again," said Elrond. "There are some things he cannot endure and the taste of your cock is one of them. Other than that, you may do as you please." He settled Legolas on the edge of a chaise and then pushed him onto his side. Taking one of the long, lean limbs he raised it high, exposing both openings for his kinsman. "What is your pleasure, Erestor? He likes best the second hole, for therein he feels great pleasure, but the first is tighter than anything I've every put my cock in before."

"I want him to have pleasure of me," said Erestor, not because he was considerate but because he was cruel. Legolas despised him and to be brought to erotic ecstasy by the seneschal's cock shamed and disgusted him. This was Legolas' punishment for rejecting his Lord's cousin.

"Nay, saes Hîren don't let him fuck me there. I will swallow him whole instead if …" The pleading speech was cut short when Elrond slapped the sylvan across the cheek.

"Do not defy me," he thundered. "Whatsoever I command, that is what you will do. To my will you must submit fully, understand?" He did not wait for an answer, pulling the leg he still held out even further to enhance his cousin's penetration. "Take him," he said.

Erestor did not need to be told twice. At once he sheathed his eager cock into the wet heat and began pumping, letting Elrond hold The Sylvan still so that he could find the right spot. He knew he'd found it when the elf whimpered and struggled, trying to get free. Again Elrond struck him and then turned Legolas over, still impaled on Erestor's cock, pulling the leg sideways so that everything was open to the seneschal.

"His nipples are very sensitive and he loves to have them suckled. See if you can reach one, cousin."

"Oh, yes!" sighed the seneschal, delighted to try. He lunged forward, burying his cock to the hilt, and latched onto one of the hard pink buds. He felt Legolas arch beneath him and rolled his tongue across the aroused flesh, thrusting with greater fervour. He pulled up on the sweet meat between his lips, letting go with a sloppy wet smack and promptly lapped at its twin. Again the pliant body rose to meet his feasting mouth and Erestor felt the cock pressed into his belly twitch. He grinned, biting down on the nipple before releasing it and from that point forward he alternated between them, timing his licks and bites and noisy suckling to the exacting penetration of his penis. Legolas was straining into every thrust now, and Erestor felt his own climax approaching. He stopped playing and braced himself upon the arms of the chair, driving into the archer's body faster and harder.

Erestor exploded, a loud shout heralding his spurt of seed as he pumped it deep into the confines of his captive. Panting with the effort and exhilarated by the act, he pulled out and flopped into a nearby chair, grinning like a cat before cream.

"Ah, that is surely the best way to start the day, cousin," he managed through his laboured breaths, watching as Elrond teased the sylvan's nipples, tugging and twirling the ripe red flesh between his fingers. "Yet it would have been sweeter to feel his seed coat my belly. Why do you deny him what most he wants?"

"You are wrong. He does not want to feel pleasure of your cock, no matter that his body craves one, and it would be more than he can bear to experience an orgasm with yours pounding into him," corrected Elrond. He leaned over and gently kissed each nipple, drawing them into his mouth briefly, and then pressed his lips against Legolas' creased eyelids, for he had them sealed shut rather than watch Erestor's ecstasy. "You have done well," Elrond whispered in his ear. "Be not concerned; I will bring you to the heights of pleasure before the twins come for you."

Erestor sighed, the sound both wistful and deeply satisfaction, as he cleaned his hand of the pungent residue of his release. Of course, he was alone, his erotic daydream only that, but what a sweet phantasm! This very scene he had witnessed only a day before, barring his own involvement, and he could not banish the fantasy from his mind. Only thus would he experience such delight, for Elrond was a jealous lover and would never share his sylvan mate, not willingly. To the twins he had no choice but to yield over the Wood Elf, but as to others he would spill blood before permitting anyone to take what was his. A brisk rap at the door spurred the seneschal from his languid pose draped across the window seat; he barely had time to make himself decent before the Lord of the Vale barged in.

A smug grin suffused Elrond's face as he realised what his kinsman had just been doing. "No partner?" he teased. "That is unlike you, though you have been without a lover for some time now. How long has it been?"

"It has not been so long," snapped the disgruntled advisor. "I weary of these pampered folk of Rivendell and I have not been so fortunate to have a tantalisingly erotic young warrior drop into my lap."

"Legolas did not 'drop into my lap'. It was my choice to save him from Orcs," replied Elrond. "Besides, he is not so easy to handle as you imagine, nor is sharing him with my sons the ideal means of securing a mate."

"Aye, keeping your lover constantly drugged must be rather daunting to the ego," snickered Erestor. "That was quite a nasty wound he gave you the last time you weaned him of the potion. Required stitching, did it not?"

Now it was Elrond who frowned darkly, one brow arching in silent warning, for his cousin had pressed on a very sensitive area indeed. "I keep him drugged to prevent him killing himself and this you know. The injury was accidental; he was trying to slit his own throat and I intervened."

"Aye. Forgive me; I know you care about him," Erestor said contritely, studying his cousin closely. It was not hard to understand why Elrond had become enamoured of The Sylvan; everyone knew about the strange magic surrounding these primitive folk of the woods. Indeed, it was something of an embarrassment to the realm for all three of the Lords to be ensnared in the unsavoury bond, taking turns with the lowly archer from Mirkwood. The scandal was so great that Glorfindel truly had departed, finally reaching his limit upon walking in on a particularly brutal session of sex and sanction.

"I do," nodded Elrond. "It is my hope to cure him and cease the medication entirely. I am convinced he can yet be a productive citizen and adapt to life in Imladris."

"As the bound catamite to its Lord and his twin sons?" Erestor remarked in incredulous mockery, a swift shake of the head underscoring the absurdity of such a notion. "Cousin, you will never achieve that goal. Wood Elves are proud and this one obviously despises the hand fate has dealt him. It is plain enough: he would rather be dead than continue as your personal sex slave. The twins he must despise even more. You know of what they do, how they treat him."

Then Elrond turned away, moving to look through the open windows to the courtyard. There Legolas sat upon the green grass beside the fountain, legs folded beneath him, rocking slightly to and fro, a tuneless humming arising from his throat. He was dressed in loose sleeping clothes of thin white cotton, barefoot, golden hair unbound about his shoulders. He gazed unseeing across the sward, or perhaps watched scenes of his homeland as he drifted in perpetual Ólpathu. His hands rested quietly in his lap, the long fingers wrapped around the grip of an unstrung bow. Elrond had given him the weapon to hold as a means to keep the busy hands from pulling out the flax-coloured hair. It was the bow he'd brought from Mirkwood and seemed to give him some comfort.

Erestor was probably right. If any part of the sylvan warrior's mind was active, it must be consumed with hatred for him and his sons more so. Indeed, they were cruel and Elrond had mimicked their sadistic games more than once, finding he could not endure the idea of them enjoying his mate, punishing Legolas for it. After the fact, remorse always surrounded his heart, for he knew Legolas could not control what his nature ordained, nor could his sons resist when within range of the erotic aphrodisiac of the scent of Legolas aroused.

"They will be here by nightfall," he said flatly and then turned. "I know you watch them and find pleasure in what they do to him. Most likely, they are aware and appreciate having you for an audience. Beware, lest you become ensnared, too."

Erestor met the cool grey eyes honestly. "It is too late; I am bewitched." He stood and took a step toward Elrond, bright hope blooming in his face. "Grant me access to him, Elrond, that I may appease this hunger. He will neither know nor care and I will be…"

"No."

Silence filled the space between them as Elrond worked to quench the sudden blaze of fury the seneschal's proposition generated. Finally he sighed and turned back to the window, hands clasped behind his back, and Erestor joined him. Together they simply watched Legolas for a time, both smiling as a sparrow alighted on the woodland elf's shoulder and stole a strand of the yellow mane for its nest.

"Will you not end this infernal summer weather?" Erestor demanded at last. "We've been subjected to the heat for over a month now."

"Nay, for Legolas is sensitive to the cold still."

"It is Ethuil, Elrond. It is always Ethuil in Imladris. If he has experienced cold then it is something to do with his condition, not the weather."

"So now you will advise me in healing?" Elrond quipped. "Of course it is something internal, but I cannot identify the cause and will not have him shivering in misery. I cannot cease drugging him, the most likely cause, for fear he'll attempt suicide again. The heat stays for this temperature is comfortable for him, as you see."

To this Erestor could produce no argument, for Legolas was certainly content, or gave the appearance of that state. The seneschal had seen the shivering for himself and watched as the Wood Elf helped himself to layer after layer of Elrond's clothes, attempting to get warm. He sighed and shrugged, offering a whimsical smile as Legolas stood and stretched tall, shucking off his shirt as he did. He bent and slid down the pants, too, stepping out of them as he strolled away across the grounds, heading for a small stand of elm trees near the brook. Elrond was after him like a shot and Erestor was both surprised and disappointed that the Elven Lord didn't take his sylvan lover on the spot. The couple soon disappeared amid the trees and Erestor waited a discreet amount of time before following.



Part Two
"I say we should permit it. For myself, I find it pleases me to think on it and watching it play out in truth will be exciting. Besides, such bold boasts need to be answered. We must make an example of him so that others fear to betray us."

"Nay, this would be a mistake. Legolas is ours; I've no desire to share him with any other."

"Oh, well do I know it!" spat Elrohir, sitting up and snatching Legolas out of Elladan's arms. They were naked and sweaty, the three of them, having just concluded a glorious conjunction of flesh. "You would have him for your own, alone, and forsake even me to make it so."

"Nay! I will never forsake you, Muindor," assured Elladan, gaze shifting in worry from his brother's furious glower to the shaking Wood Elf. Once in such a black mood, there was no guessing what torments Elrohir might deem fitting to visit upon the lowly sylvan. "Do not hurt him; he has had enough tonight." Indeed, dark bruises were visible even in the low light of the flickering candle, evidence of Elrohir's wrath and Legolas' struggles.

"Oh, he will take all we offer him. He cannot help it, the depraved harlot, and therefore it is right to indulge this fancy of mine." So saying he rose form the bed, dragging Legolas along, Elrohir fast becoming aroused as he thought about what he planned to do. "Bring the rope and the toys. We adjourn to the library."

Elladan did as instructed, fearing to dissent further for he could not say what Elrohir might do if he left the pair alone. He scooped up the various devices Elrohir had chosen for the night and gathered a coil of hithlain as well. In truth there was no need to bind the sylvan, for together they could manage him easily and Legolas rarely resisted them any longer. He had accepted the bond between them. Unfortunately, this only made the younger brother frustrated, for he did not want to enjoy coupling with Legolas nor wish for the Wood Elf to have pleasure in the joining. He wanted Legolas to fear him and dread the punishment he would receive for bringing his filthy sorcery to bear upon Elladan. In consequence, Elrohir's sex-play became increasingly demeaning and brutal, but what he planned for this night surpassed all.

Together the brothers had subjected Legolas to numerous scenarios and situations that would turn the stomachs of most people. They had taken him in public places, Elrohir's favourite being the barracks grounds where a crowd was sure to gather. He liked to make Legolas beg for release and usually would not let him come until he was crying out in pain, and usually not until they'd both had him anally and orally first. Sometimes they kept him aroused for hours, refusing him gratification while punishing him for being aroused. Punishment generally involved a small leather whip Elrohir had taken from a horse-trader in Bree. He used it just as the Man had, striking Legolas upon the shoulders as he rode him.

Yet what Elrohir enjoyed most was using foreign objects to penetrate Legolas, working the implements to bring the elf to orgasm, berating and defaming him for such wanton lust the while. The more mundane the object the better and Legolas' unique anatomy had been invaded with everything from wooden spoons from the kitchen to his own bow. Now even this form of humiliation had lost its appeal and the younger brother had devised a crueler plot for demeaning the sylvan. The whole idea sickened Elladan and he did not want to watch this, but could not resist the desire to be there at the end.

Once Elrohir was done, he always did what he could to comfort Legolas, never knowing whether the Wood Elf realised it or not. He tended the injuries and bathed the elf, made him take food and water, coupled with him gently and with love. It was all he could do, that and making sure Legolas was so thoroughly drugged he would not remember the things done to him. At least, that was Elladan's hope, for he knew that without the medications Legolas would have faded long ago or taken his life. When he was home, Elladan doubled the sedatives his father prescribed Legolas. Yet these things he did in secret, for if Elrohir learned of it he would only punish Legolas, saying the woodland archer had truly stolen his brother's heart.

Elladan was not sure, anymore, if that was a lie.

He came to the library and found Elrohir sprawled in a chair, legs spread wide and Legolas on his knees between them, busily sucking the long red cock. His rear was invitingly exposed and Elladan knew his brother had placed the chair just to provide this temptation. He lifted his eyes from the dark red hole to meet his brother's smirking gaze.

"Take him; I know you want to. Fuck him while he pleasures me. I will even permit him to come when you spill inside him," said Elrohir, his voice soft and oily and filled with menace. His eyes glinted with rage and he reached out to shove down hard on Legolas' head. The sylvan gagged and pulled away, earning a sharp blow to the face for doing so, and Elrohir grabbed a handful of golden hair and yanked the mouth back down. The warmth of an agile tongue enveloped him and he groaned. "That's better," he panted, smiling up at his brother. "He's better at this than you are." As he'd hoped, this roused Elladan's anger and he laughed as his brother quickly positioned himself behind the sylvan, plunging in and fucking him with deep, hard thrusts.

Their eyes locked and between them crackled the pain and jealousy and rage each felt, knowing the other wanted Legolas with a compelling urge stronger than the bond they'd forged between them in their youth. The fury mingled with the erotic passion incited by the Wood Elf and both strove to find release first within the willing body servicing them. Yet their bond was not destroyed and the two peaked together, Elrohir spilling down the sylvan's throat, crying out his brother's name, while Elladan gripped the archer's cock and pumped him to completion, face buried against a red-striped shoulder as he shot his seed.

Then Elrohir snatched his hand from underneath and carried it to his lips, sucking off the semen produced by Legolas' ejaculation, glaring in defiance at his brother for he knew Elladan had desired the treat for himself. Legolas, meanwhile was crumpled in his lap and Elrohir kept him there, one hand anchored fast in the wheaten locks, for he could see that he wanted to rise and turn to Elladan, or to flee. There was a tension about him that belied the dosage of herbs added to his wine, unless the elixir was but a nostrum, all bad taste and no effect. Elrohir chuckled when Elladan slowly drew his hand away, aware that he had liked the attention well, and smiled in triumph.

"That should satisfy you both for a time. Now we will set the stage for the next act," he said, laughing at his pun.

"I will have your word first," demanded Elladan, his eyes cold upon his brother. "You will not torment him beyond this point. I tell you it is enough to break him."

"Nonsense, he is made of stern stuff else he would have faded long ago."

"It is only the constant fog Adar maintains within his mind that prevents it."

"So you say, but I believe he is ready to be weaned off the potion. He enjoys our sport and would willingly join the game. Think how much better it would be to take him with us when we go abroad. Then we could have him at will. Oh! To hunt him through the wilds, chasing him across country, tracking him down, subduing him, mastering him. Can you not see it? We should be the primary mates instead of Adar."

"Nay, I believe he prefers Adar to us. You are wrong about him; he does not like mixing pain and pleasure but he has known nothing else."

"Nay, he regularly couples with Adar, who does not indulge that aspect of intimacy to the same degree. He knows the difference between our brand of love-making and Elrond's."

"Aye, and he prefers Adar," insisted Elladan.

While they spoke, the brothers arranged Legolas in a provocative pose, tying him down to the library table so that his arms were held fast at the wrists, secured to one corner, while his legs were bent and drawn back at the knees. To spread them as wide as possible, each limb was secured at the ankle and the knee, each tied fast to opposite sides of the table. Through it all he had struggled little and now lay staring up at them in confusion.

"If that does not entice him, I know not what would," chortled Elrohir, reaching between the parted legs to fondle the limp genitals, probing behind the scrotum into the folds of the vaginal cavity, scooping out some of Elladan's seed. He tasted the bitter essence, watching his brother intently, and smiled to see the rush of colour that sped to his ears and the quickening in the long lax penis.

"El'dan?" The word was faint and slurred and came from the bound Wood Elf, who suddenly seemed to comprehend what was happening, or about to happen, and began to strain against the rope. "Elladan, alannach dâf…" (Elladan, do not give permission) His plea was silenced when Elrohir reached for his sac and squeezed hard enough to make him cry out.

"Now why does he always call to you for help at these times?" asked Elrohir, maintaining the vice-like grip on the tender testes.

"Because you are the one who hurts him," said Elladan, visibly upset as he watched his brother's cruel treatment. "Let him go; he means you no harm and calls for me only because I have shown him compassion, nothing more. He does not prefer me to you, muindor, nor do I love him the way I do you. Please, let us not do this. Let us play the hunting game instead."

"Ah! You admit to love for him. No more needs be said; he needs a lesson or two in what his place is here in Imladris. Afterwards we might try the hunt." Elrohir did release his hold and at once reached amid the pile of clamps and rings and chains and plugs, taking a huge phallus and shoving it deep inside Legolas. A sharp gasp fled the sylvan's lungs and his eyes grew wide as Elrohir slowly used the tool to stimulate the interior gland. "See? He loves it," said Elrohir, contempt limning every syllable as he watched the archer's cock slowly filling. "How can you prefer such a dissolute creature to me, Muindor?"

"I do not!" exclaimed Elladan, exasperated and distraught, for no matter how often he made the claim he could not convince Elrohir. He exhaled a huge sough and fought not to look at Legolas, for any eye contact between them now would surely inflame his brother's ire. "Tell me what else you want done," he said dismally, his heart filled with bitter resentment, for these were games he and Elrohir used to share only between themselves. To see his soul-mate taking such delight whilst teaching their bond-slave his favourite diversions was hurtful. Every punishment to Legolas was a penance for him.

"Secure the clamps to the rings in his ear tips and make sure they are tight." He stopped working the phallus and stood back to watch, his own penis flexing at the sight of the thick wooden handle projecting from the quivering body. Elladan's hands were shaking, he noted, as they snapped the ends of the fine golden chain to the loops thrust through the most sensitive region in the sylvan's ears. His brother gave a swift tug to test the connection and Legolas responded, shuddering as his head bent back into the pull, teeth catching his lower lip, eyes sealing shut. His chest heaved for breath and his shaft rose high amid the honey coloured curls of his crotch.

Elrohir took himself in hand and stroked his hardening cock. "Now the nipples, insert the studs through the chain and then the flesh; screw the back on well. I don't want the studs to pop out when the chain is given a hard yank." His nostrils flared and he inhaled deeply for Legolas always emitted a strong odour of musk when this stage was reached. He waited to see that his orders were obeyed and met Elladan's eyes, a quick nod answering the unspoken question. The chain was given a sharp jerk and the Wood Elf's whole body leaped on the table, yet still no sound did he make other than his labouring efforts to draw air.

Now Elrohir took the chain and made the final connection, attaching to its end another ring, this one meant to fit around the circumference of an erect penis. Fitted properly, it would remain in place as the cock thrust in and out, every advance and retreat providing a forceful pull to the sensitive tissues of the nipples and the ears. One more piece of equipment was needed to make the scene complete and Elrohir took it from the pile. It was a second ring and this he closed around the base of archer's shaft to prevent any possibility of ejaculation. He looked to Elladan in smug ascendency.

"Since you tried the connections at that end, it falls to me to ensure this side is properly rigged." With that he settled the ring around his swollen organ, noting with pleasure that the chain grew taut and Legolas leaned forward as far as his bonds would permit. "None of that," scolded Elrohir. "You'll not feel anything that way. Hold him down at the shoulders, muindor."

"Nay, it would be too much. Just do it, Elrohir, and adjust the length of the chain if necessary." Elladan's voice was filled with a mixture of loathing and pruriency, for while part of him felt sickened by this display, another part of him was eager to see its culmination. He held his breath, eyes travelling over the bound body, following the glinting line of the stretched chain to where it connected to his brother's erection. From there he raised them to Elrohir's eyes and only then did the younger twin comply, removing the wooden phallus and lunging forward almost in a single motion.

The twins groaned in concert as Elrohir bore down, striving to achieve a full, forceful penetration with every pivot of his hips, the chain slipping in and out along with his hot rigid flesh. Elladan stroked his own flesh and reached out to touch one jumping red bud and then the other, then trying the ears. Feathery and light he made the contact and could not suppress a sigh as Legolas gasped and whimpered in response.

"Come and join me," said Elrohir amid harsh respiration. He slowed and pulled partially out, moving aside a bit to make room as Elladan eagerly came forward. It was a tight fit for Legolas was not in the best orientation for that position, but the effort was worth it as soon as he felt the fullness of his brother's cock pushing into the sylvan's anus. Neither could burrow very deeply but they would be satisfied none the less. In unison they rocked forward and then pulled back, arms locked around each other at the waist to provide support, and with matched shouts of exhilaration began to thrust wildly.

Legolas cried out and squirmed on the table, fighting the pounding penetration, shifting against the rhythmic jolts of pleasure and the accompanying flashes of stabbing pain as ears and nipples were plucked and pulled with every motion. Every sensitive area of his body was under assault except his penis, and this they refused to touch, seeing to their own pleasure and caring not that the fullness was too much, that his nipples were already sore and bruised after his morning with Elrond. Like their father, the twins were potent and vigourous and could go on for what seemed to be hours. Such was not the case this night and he felt them come, twin spurts of warm fluid bathing his interior.

Elladan retreated first, moving away to collapse in a comfortable chair, still dripping from the tip of his shaft. He closed his eyes, a smile gracing his features. "Leave him and come to me," he whispered.

"Aye, in a moment," replied Elrohir. "Should we clean him?" Carefully he removed the ring from his deflating organ and settled it right atop the sylvan's belly button.

"Nay, do not remove the evidence of our possession. When he buries his cock inside he will find the way well greased and know the magnitude of his offence. There will be no excuse he can use to justify the act," answered Elladan. Rested and refreshed by the triple joining, he sprang from the chair and came to inspect the woodland warrior. His fingers delved each hole and he frowned when Legolas flinched. "Ai! He is not having any enjoyment this night. We must try and make it up to him."

"Why are you always so worried about him," snapped Elrohir. "He's a Wood Elf and this is their nature. Everyone knows it is all they are good for: fighting and fucking."

Elladan said nothing, saddened that the pleasant mood between them was spoiled and sadder still for the fate that had befallen Legolas. There was nothing left to do but wait and so he led Elrohir to a shadowed alcove where a comfortable chair offered a secluded spot for reading. Or spying.

"Aye, spies we are, yet I know no other way to prove our suspicions. If he partakes of Our Wood Elf I will have him castrated and banished," said Elrohir, attempting to justify his vile scheme, for in his heart he hoped this would happen, believing the sight might finally open Elladan's eyes to Legolas' dissolute and corrupt nature. He surveyed the scene and frowned. "Wait, we do not want Figwit to strain himself in the effort," he chuckled with devious glee and retrieved a foot stool, setting it in front of the table before the tantalising display. Hastening back to the dark corner he snuggled up against Elladan. "I think I will take you while he's rutting Our Wood Elf," he whispered and smiled when Elladan shivered.

They did not need to wait long for the little play to unfold, except that it was not Figwit who came through the library door. The valet, renowned for his lazy and insolent nature to all save Elrond, had obviously foisted the task the twins had set before him onto another. The barrier creaked open and a slender figure came in: Faelon, Erestor's personal secretary.

"Lord Elrond?" he called as he walked but half way there he gasped in shock, for he came upon Legolas bound to the table, recoiling in disgust as the scent of cooling semen inundated his delicate senses. "Elbereth!"

"Saes, cano Elrond, saes," the sylvan muttered, voice pitched low as though he feared to be heard while his huge blue eyes implored the seneschal's secretary for aid.

Faelon turned and fled the room, the heavy door banging shut behind him.

"Valar! Adar needs to dispense with Figwit," complained Elrohir. "I will not have him claiming to all the Valley that he partakes of our bond-slave daily."

"Without proof Adar will do nothing," groaned Elladan. "Never mind, the ploy has failed. Let us take Legolas to the woods and play out the hunt. This time, I will not permit you to win."

"Permit me? Oh ho! So, you thought to grant me…" Elrohir stopped mid-sentence for he heard footsteps hastening down the hallway, mingled with the frantic words of the secretary. In panic he met Elladan's eyes, for their Adar would not appreciate this sort of activity and would probably send them away to Lothlorien in disgrace. There was no means of averting the disaster, however, and in grim dread he trained his sight upon the door. He barely silenced his surprise when it opened to reveal not Elrond but Erestor his kinsman. The secretary was still babbling away as they approached.

"…so when Figwit asked if I would search the archives for the scroll, of course I agreed. I had no idea The Sylvan would be in here and certainly not like this! He asked me to fetch Lord Elrond but I thought it best to let you be the one to explain."

"Of course, Faelon, you acted appropriately. I will handle this; you may return to your normal duties." Erestor managed to remain his usual aloof and unflappable self as he spoke these bland words, but inside his heart was hammering and his libido rising. He could scarcely remove his eyes from the vision before him and only wanted Faelon to go so that he might make a more thorough inspection.

No sooner had the door closed than he approached, hands behind his back, and strolled a complete tour around the table. His gaze lingered on the exposed double openings, travelled languidly up the belly to the chest, feasted on the pierced flesh there, followed the chain to the end at either ear. A loud breath entered and left his lungs and he circled closer, reaching out to touch one of the nipples, still inflamed and tender, and thrilled to the response as The Sylvan winced and tried to twitch out of the way.

"Nay!" he shouted, blue eyes ablaze with hatred. "I am Elrond's only."

"No, you are Elrond's and Elladan's and Elrohir's. Now, more than two lovers at a time defines a whore. Indeed, one might say you are more the property of the House of Eärendil than any single one of its members. I, too, am blood-kin to that venerable lineage." Erestor tested an ear, taking the golden ring and pulling slightly, gratified when this raised a cry. "Someone has left you here like this; who?"

"Gwanûn," (the Twins) answered Legolas, gasping as the seneschal's groping hands explored him. His nipples were tweaked again and he shuddered. "Daro!" (Stop!)

"Quiet!" hissed Erestor, peering behind him and around the room even as he rushed forward, clambering onto the foot stool and clamping his hand over the Wood Elf's mouth. His other hand was busy opening his breeches and wrestling his hardening penis from its confinement. "Long have I wanted to have you, Legolas, but this exceeds my most lurid fantasy."

Now in the alcove the brothers stared in disbelief, for though they knew Erestor desired their bond-slave, they did not think he would trespass upon their Adar's rights so freely. Elladan was about to leap out and halt the seneschal but Elrohir restrained him, finding he was aroused, for Legolas was struggling desperately. Urgent cries of alarm issued from beneath the pressure of Erestor's hand, but were too muffled to carry beyond the confines of the room. He had wanted to watch as Figwit took the archer and found Erestor's deft manipulation of Legolas' body far more erotic.

Erestor, too, was excited to heightened levels by the illicit nature of what he was doing and with quick and practised hands he took up the ring and attached it to himself, so eager to get his cock inside he was panting. He paused, dipping his fingers into first one warm and sticky hole and then the other. They came away coated with the white gel of the twins' ejaculate and Erestor sucked it from his fingers, meeting the wide blue eyes staring upon him in horror, recognition and understanding within them. Clear were the signs of fear arising from the lowly sylvan and Erestor gasped, seeing himself as if through those azure depths, and he was ashamed. All desire left him and he stepped away, turning his face down as he unfastened the ring from his deflating penis and reordered his garments.

"Forgive me," he murmured. "You are not mine to take, and never have I forced anyone, nor betrayed any of my kin." Then he set about untying the Wood Elf, starting with the legs, and nearly jumped a metre when Elrohir called out from the shadows.

"Who gave you leave to interfere with our fun?" he demanded, but would not come forth for he was still aroused.

"I do not need your leave to lend aid to my kinsman's bond-slave. This is inexcusable and I will report it to your father. What drove you to do this is beyond comprehension," Erestor chastised him, "but I know Elrond would never approve of you offering Legolas to his valet!"

"Nay, he would not," said Elladan. "I would have stopped Figwit if he'd tried to truly do the deed."

"Hah! I'm sure you would, which is why I was not stopped by other than my own scruples," sneered Erestor. He had both of the Wood Elf's legs freed and hastened to unbind his hands, rubbing them between his own for the fingers were stiff and cold. Carefully he helped Legolas off the table, unwilling to remove the chain and its attachments for fear of succumbing to the sylvan's allure despite his intent to resist. Yet when he moved to lead the woodland elf away, Legolas balked, looking back to the alcove where the twins remained obscured in shadow. Erestor sighed in exasperation and shook the arm he was holding.

"You do not need their permission to go with me; I am but escorting you back to Elrond's rooms," he said.

"Aye, go with him, Legolas," called Elladan and there was sorrow in his voice.

"Go with him, Legolas," mocked Elrohir. "Muindor, we have been gone a twelve-day on patrol, deprived of comfort and diversion, and now you freely hand off our hard won mate to Adar's seneschal. You do realise you just gave him permission to enjoy Legolas at will, and likewise instructed the Wood Elf to obey?"

"Nay!" exclaimed Elladan. "That is not what I meant, Legolas. Erestor will not molest you nor keep you from Elrond. Do you hear?"

"Aye," answered Legolas softly, relief and gratitude packed into the simple word. Then he turned to Erestor. "I would cover myself," he said.

This evoked a brash laugh form Elrohir that made Legolas flinch, but Elladan at last came forth, caring nothing about his nakedness anymore, and took up a tasselled covering from one of the smaller tables. This he wrapped around Legolas shoulders, bending close to whisper in his ear.

"Do you want me to take them out?" He was referring to the chains and rings still attached to the sylvan's body and a slight nod confirmed the answer he'd expected. He was quick in the task and mindful of Legolas' modesty, using the table cover as a shield to block the process from Erestor's sight; a strange compunction considering the vulgar display they'd made of the archer and the horrific torment to which they'd subjected him.

"Oh, your compassion again, is it?" Elrohir's scathing words wafted from his dark corner. "When last had you such warmth in thought for me?"

"When last I looked upon you," snapped Elladan. He gathered up the golden chains and flung them into the alcove. "I weary of your bitterness, Muindor. I think it best if we go with them and accept whatever penalty Adar sees fit to exact, for we have wronged him and Legolas both this night."

"We have done no such thing! Nothing untoward happened; nothing we haven't done before."

"No, you would have let Figwit have him, even though it would surely have broken whatever remains of his spirit. You would become a kinslayer and draw me into your dark deed."

"You were a willing party and do not deny it," Elrohir accused. "Do not stand there and play the innocent to me!"

"I do not. I will not. I go to own this crime and the consequences of it. If you do not join me, consider us parted."

"I have considered us parted since the day you laid claim to that sylvan whore!" bellowed Elrohir, but still he would not show his face, whether in shame or remorse it was impossible to say.

"So be it," answered Elladan and took Legolas by the elbow. Together he and Erestor led him from the room to Elrond's apartment, but Elrohir gathered his kit and weapons and fled from the valley.



Part Three
Legolas walked in dreams amid the manicured beds and close-cropped hedges of fair Imladris and while his feet trod the much vaunted bucolic dells and dales of the hidden vale, his heart roamed amid mossy glades along loamy lanes beneath the twined and twisted canopy of Greenwood far to the east over Hithaeglir. There he ran with the friends of his childhood and hunted with his father and brother, thrilling to the ballad of elvish horns and exulting in the anthem of his singing bow. His waking eyes looked upon sunlit gardens and blooming orchards and vine-covered walls of marble stone, but his soul-sight viewed the mighty bolls and widespread limbs of beech and oak and birch, fern and bracken and bramble about their roots.

That was well, for though the pristine perfection of Imladris could not be rivalled by any city in Middle-earth, not even regal Lindon by the sea, the golden light of Anor cast into stark relief the shadows that bent and stretched across the fabled haven, mimicking a dark poison that tainted the very air and ran in the blood of its noble Lords. A toxin more putrid than any infiltrating root and stem of beleaguered Greenwood's valiant trees, this odious corruption did not arise in that blighted land's youngest prince, though the Noldor claimed it so. Accused of sorcery and black magic, the sylvan warrior was distrusted and reviled, not the least by Imladris' Lord and his twin sons, and all the citizens mirrored that attitude of contempt, loathing, and fear. To bear the weight of their scorn and derision was more than Legolas could manage atop the sorrows already burdening his heart and soul, and so he walked in dreams upon the land.

So it had been these ten years past, for he was prisoner here now, bound by the bond forged for his salvation betwixt the exalted lore-master and his two sons. It was not a fate he wanted, preferring to have perished in battle alongside his people and his brother that day, but neither was the means to change it or to have averted it a power granted unto him, for it was part and parcel of Wood Elf design, unchanging since the time of Awakening, and to it he was subject. Should the light of a sylvan soul fall near to extinction, then in a last and desperate bid for life it would send forth a beckoning call, so to ensnare a willing mate, one who would join in body with the declining elf and impart whatever portion of vital energy was needed to fend off death.

Of course, Legolas might indeed have avoided this extreme remedy completely and spared the lives of his brother and friends, but for his wilful and selfish insistence to visit the valley where now he was so completely constrained and subjugated. The onus of guilt over the elves destroyed in consequence of that rash decision held him more securely than any chains or ropes or potions ever could, for he had come to see his state as a means of expiation: the Vala Námo had let him live to endure the penalties inflicted by the Noldorin Lords that his soul might be cleansed and made ready. Through Legolas would be achieved the rebirth of Galbreth his brother, crowned prince of Greenwood and King Thranduil's favoured son, for Legolas' body was made to bear life.

The young prince had therefore persisted, awaiting the signs that would indicate the time had come, and all the while he sought if he might in some manner awaken in the elder Noldo Lord some small semblance of love and caring for him, for Legolas desired to bring forth his child-brother strong and well. For that he needed a committed mate devoted to both child and life-bearer, but Elrond saw him not in the guise of a help-mate and husband but rather as a pretty toy to use as he would, the reward for saving the sylvan's life and granting the withering soul his vitality. Yet Legolas could not believe this was the true nature of the mighty lore-master's character, for everywhere and every day he beheld signs of the elf's wisdom, compassion, and integrity, even though these qualities were always put away whenever the two interacted. He had held to hope, trusting what his heart felt: that given time the noble son of Eärendil would set aside his prejudice and allow himself to love Legolas.

As for the Twins, Elladan and Elrohir, neither would he consider as true mates, for they were already bound one to the other, and scorned him. They had answered the call even after Elrond had consummated his union to Legolas, fighting over who should be first and accusing one another of infidelity and treachery. The mating had been almost brutal, his injuries and weakness disregarded, and never had coupling with them been anything but a harsh torment to both his body and his soul. His heart he would reveal to neither one of them, nor look to them for seed to create his child-brother anew.

Ten years is not long among the First-born, yet for Legolas it did seem so for he had yet to pass even his first century of life. Even more, it was time enough to become acclimated to the drugs and potions Elrond employed to control him, believing he would take his life or flee if not restrained. So it had been in the first year, but now Legolas understood his purpose and accepted it. Yet it served him to let Elrond think the medicines kept him ever befuddled, for he was watched carefully and did not want the Elven Lord to know his plots and schemes just yet. Later, once he had opened the elder elf's heart, then he could reveal his purpose and enjoin his aid once the signs were come.

Now he walked the garden paths in the quiet of the night and gazed upon the sky, glad and sorrowful to see there the star that had arisen upon Galbreth's first conception returned to herald his rebirth. For three nights he had watched it growing stronger and brighter; there could be no doubt. Legolas was not prepared for the signs to manifest so soon, for he had not made any progress in winning Elrond's heart. He had only two choices: to fulfil his obligation or to end his life, but really there was never a question of failing to offer his brother this means to return to their father's halls and the family he had left behind, all of whom must mourn his passing as deeply as Legolas did. Thus he was happy to know his opportunity was come to atone for his sin, yet filled with dread and sorrow, for to make this child without the aid of his mate's sustaining strength, he would expend all of his own light and expire even as the babe came into the world.

It was a sacrifice he was prepared to make and believed it was the only just action possible, considering Galbreth's blood was upon his hands. Legolas had prepared his body to house life and felt the change come over him. Nothing was left but to seduce Elrond and obtain the vital seed required to conceive, never a difficult task.

As in everything that had followed upon his fateful decision to visit Imladris, this plan, too, took a turning he could not foresee nor avert. The Twins, away from their home on patrol, had returned to demand their rights, and this on the very night Legolas had chosen to receive his brother's soul, sealing it in the combined essence of himself and his mate, hidden and protected within him, there to be nurtured until growth deemed him ripe for birth. So it would be, yet all three Noldorin Lords had taken their pleasure of him, injecting him with their semen more than once, and which of them was the child's father even Legolas could not divine.

Thus, Legolas walked in dreams no more but worried his brain for means to get away from the Valley and bring forth the child in the bosom of his family far to the east in Greenwood over Hithaeglir, for he could not doubt that Elrond would not own the child, nor the twins find other than crass amusement in his plight. Even so, he was compelled to reach out to the noble Lord of Imladris once more, hoping against all indications that he could open that heart walled off from the world. The woodland elf sent forth from his soul a silent call, his means of beckoning Elrond to him, and waited in the moonlit garden.

Now Elrond, incensed to hear Erestor's report, had taken the quaking elf from his kinsman, sparing a hideous glare for his repentant son, whose words of apology and remorse he refused to heed, and treated the hurts inflicted on the fair body he so loved to ravish. Legolas had been bathed and tended and fed, dressed in his normal garb of light cotton sleeping clothes, and turned loose in the sheltered garden wherein the noble Lord kept him, for the sylvan loved to be among the green things of nature and was more at peace there. What judgement he laid upon Elladan was not revealed to the Wood Elf, for Legolas was again adrift in Ôlpathu, ever his refuge when in grave distress. Elrond had not intended to indulge his passion for the golden warrior again this night, for he was suffering, yet the mighty Lord found his thoughts ever wandering from his work to his bond-slave. Without understanding the source of this insistent urge to see him, Elrond at last gave in and ventured into the private sanctuary, seeking his sylvan lover.

He found him beside the brook, seated in the grass and trailing his fingers in the chattering fluid, humming his soul-song, a sombre and sorrowful tune replete with hopeless despair, while tears rained from his eyes. Alarmed, Elrond hastened to him and joined him on the bank, taking him carefully in his arms for the injuries would be slow to heal, a consequence of the drugs used to keep the sylvan compliant and docile. Gently Elrond rocked him, gladdened to feel the slender figure snuggle against his chest.

"They should not have used you so," he said softly. "I should not have permitted them to have you tonight."

Legolas said nothing at first, for it was not his place to speak against his mates, any of them, yet the kind words gave him hope and he stopped his song. A sigh entered and left his lungs and he reached for one of the healer's gifted hands, turning its palm upward and kissing the lines and creases that some said revealed the path of the Noldo's long fate, right to its very ending. Then he dared a swift glance to see how this small token of his affection would be received. He met surprised grey eyes filled with bemused appreciation.

Oh yes, Elrond loved to be adored and worshipped by his lowly bond-slave. Little did he suspect that he held in his arms the youngest son of Thranduil, a prince in his own right, for Legolas had never revealed this truth, fearing the power over his father this would grant the Elven Lord. A bright spike of resentment flared in Legolas' heart but he stifled it; no more should he expect considering his sins. For Galbreth's sake he must break through the barriers of race and status and gain the Noldo's love. He smiled and spoke, laying aside at last the pretence of fogged and clouded thoughts.

"I would speak with you of that which is most important," he said, permitting the talented fingers to unbutton his shirt, the action frozen upon the words' utterance.

Elrond gaped. "You are free to speak," he stammered out, not knowing what to make of this sudden improvement in the sylvan's condition, especially after the horrendous tortures his sons had inflicted upon him. "What is this matter of grave import?"

"Have you noted the new star growing so large and bright in the skies over Imladris?"

"I have. This star I have seen come and depart several times, always portending some great event or news. I have been wondering what change is on the horizon and have sent to Galadriel for her interpretation." Elrond was astonished; he had no idea Legolas spoke Sindarin so well for while the words were lightly accented, there was nothing lacking in his comprehension of the language. "You amaze me with your command of my native tongue; why have you not conversed thus before?"

"As I have said, this is a matter of significance that affects both of us, and others whom you do not even guess. I would be clear and ensure you understand me," replied Legolas, sitting back now and closing the shirt.

That inspired a frown, for Elrond was used to handling the enticing body when and where he would, and often he kept Legolas naked in his study that he might have him to fondle and caress whenever he wished a break from his work. He reached for the shirt and ripped it open, a swift motion fraught with violence, and used the torn cloth to tie the archer's arms behind him. Then he sat close and tipped up the reddened face, claiming the voluptuous lips and sampling the mouth that opened for him immediately. He withdrew and smiled into the fair countenance but Legolas would not meet his eyes.

"That is better," he crooned, taking one of the nipples in his grip, tugging lightly so that Legolas flinched, for the nodes were tender and inflamed after the abuse of the Twins.

"Saes, do not, not tonight," begged Legolas, but as always his body betrayed him, more so now as he had fostered a fertile period so to bring about the will of the Valar. His bruised flesh grew erect and he shuddered as Elrond bent low and lapped at the hot skin, jolts of pleasure searing him with every swipe of the mobile tongue. At last the Elven Lord relented, sitting up with a light chuckle, fresh desire smouldering in his grey eyes as his hands delved inside the loose pants and tested the hardness of the rising cock he found.

"You know you like it, Legolas. To my will you must bend and I know it is not a burden for you to satisfy my desires." Elrond pulled the pants off and took the protruding penis in hand, rising and bring Legolas to his feet with it. Slowly he massaged the organ, eagerly cataloguing the sylvan's responses, for the increased respiration and dilating eyes gave away that he was not unwilling to be taken, sore and battered though he was. Elrond shook his head. "I am ever shocked by how much you yearn for a cock. Thrice, at least, you have been fucked this day and still you burn for more."

"Nay," whispered Legolas, "it is for you I burn, for my mate."

That pleased Elrond well to hear and enhanced his excitement. He let go and slid his fingers into the slick opening behind the scrotum and grinned when Legolas caught his breath and staggered to open his legs more. Then Elrond grabbed the slender shaft and tugged, using it as a handle to lead Legolas to a small copse of trees and a stone bench set there beneath the cover of the limbs and leaves. He sat upon the it and opened his robes, revealing a vigourous erection restrained beneath the tight leggings.These he unlaced as well and drew forth the proud flesh, offering it to Legolas.

"Here it is, hard and ready. Impale yourself on it and have your pleasure," he was smiling in anticipation as he sought the sylvan's eyes, but these were again averted as Legolas' chest heaved and a strange tension exuded from his aura. His breathing was audible and he was trembling in the effort to resist his base need, and this Elrond found amusing and laughed. Then the sylvan eyes lifted to his in a flash, dark and lit with wild fury and unquenched desire, and Elrond gasped, for he had never seen this kind of emotion in Legolas' features before.

Ere he could demand an accounting, the Wood Elf emitted a low and menacing cry and settled himself atop the out thrust cock, seating his body fully over the immense organ until he came to rest in Elrond's lap. A deep shudder worked through him for he had managed to strike his core and the force of the impact sent stars glaring across his sight, obliterating thought in a bright flare of ecstasy. He paused a few seconds, adjusting to the sensation of being stretched and full so soon after and the twins double penetration. Then he slowly rose, letting his head fall back and holding his breath, and when he was nearly unplugged dropped back upon the hot and bulging rod, bouncing on the Elven Lord's thighs with a dull slap. He ignored the loud cry of gratification Elrond offered, rising more quickly and falling harder until he was riding the virile piston with abandon, eager to bring about his mate's release along with his own.

Hands took him at the hips and aided the erratic pace of the bobbing motion, controlling the angle of each lift and drop so that the velvet heat caressed Elrond's cock with sublime compression. The Lord of Imladris watched in avid delight and Legolas shut his eyes from the lascivious examination, not wanting to see the way the Noldorin Lord counted up his every panting breath, it seemed. Not to ensure Legolas' passion was fulfilled did he extend such scrutiny, but only to mock the burden the bond placed upon his sylvan mate, for it was true that Legolas liked the joining of their bodies and yet he could not understand why this left him open to scorn. Faster now, he increased his pace and exhaled a gasp as Elrond's fist closed around him and began pumping.

Three more frantic squats and he felt the quick contraction of the Noldo's body as a deep growl left Elrond's lungs and he came. At once Legolas ceased the strenuous motion and leaned panting against the equally breathless frame beneath him. He shivered as the grip around his cock tightened and lips grazed the skin across his shoulders. With a rush his orgasm was upon him but its passing was swift and left him with only regret and disappointment that this was all they shared. Hands soothed up and down his sides, but it was not a comfort to him this night, nor was the soft utterance of his name consoling. Anger flared in the Wood Elf's heart, kindled by pain and sorrow, and he raised his head, showing Elrond eyes filled with the bright light of his just outrage.

"You have had me now for ten years and more and nothing have I held back from you. All that I am you have had, freely and without restraint: body, mind, heart and soul I relinquished to you. Even my life you have owned and I have not begrudged you the right to order that life according to your design, degrading and harrowing though that design has been for me. Yet now things have changed and it cannot continue this way," said Legolas, his voice strong and yet filled with pain generated by the inequity between their disparate estates.

Elrond stared, speechless at this bold pronouncement, for Legolas barely ever spoke and never made demands. He was not angered, however, but rather found he was uneasy and frightened, a nameless dread and foreboding crowding his mind and making his heart hammer. At last he swallowed to make room in his throat to give answer, for he had to know what had occasioned this sudden emergence of so strong a personality, fearing some action of the spell that bound him was at work, at last making its true purpose known. Unconsciously, his right hand withdrew and buried the Ring of Air in the pockets of his robes.

"What has changed in you, Legolas? I perceive that it is so yet I cannot understand it."

"I am awakened," said Legolas, defiance in his icy eyes. "Your potions and medicines must stop, for they will keep me confounded no longer. Now the decision is before us: which of you three, father and sons, will seal the bond with me and make it true?"

"Make it true?" Elrond gaped, shaking his head and standing, lifting Legolas off his softened organ and settling his clothes in order. "That is impossible, Legolas. This is not a case of love or even of alliance between noble Houses. This is not a bond such that the Noldorin folk will ever recognise."

"No? Even if I say it must be done or I shall surely perish? Even if I reveal that it is you I prefer and my heart warms in this horrid place only when you are near? Will you deny me the dignity of a legal marriage even then?"

"I can do nothing else. My people would never support such a marriage. The Lord of Imladris is not to be bound in matrimony to a lowly sylvan elf from Mirkwood." Elrond stood aside from his bond-slave and the distance between them filled with his arrogant contempt, yet even so the Noldorin Lord was puzzled and uneasy. There was a feral energy about Legolas that was not to be ignored.

"So, you cannot love a Wood Elf, even though your soul longs for mine and we are now of one light, one source." Legolas shook his head sadly and the tears returned. He stepped back and turned away. "I feared this would be your answer. You leave me no options, Elrond."

The Noldorin Lord gasped aloud, for never had Legolas called him by name before, nor had he emitted such quiet determination and resolute authority until this day. This alteration was far-reaching and Elrond feared its ultimate conclusion, for the Wood Elf's anger had melted under the flood of tears. Surely, this bold dialogue was meant to be the elf's final words and Legolas planned to seek his own destruction. The notion of living without Legolas as part of his world terrified Elrond, and though he knew in his mind that this was an effect of the sylvan's strange sorcery, he could not bear the sorrow even the idea of such a parting caused him. A single stride brought him to the naked elf and he laid hands upon him securely.

"Legolas, I am the one with no alternatives, for your statements bode ill for your well-being. I cannot permit you to try and end your life again; the herbs will be increased or you must be securely bound."

"Then bind me well, for the herbs have lost their potency and I will follow my heart's instincts from this moment forward. Woe be unto you if you defy your heart's demands and deny mine, for you will receive the just rewards of such betrayal."

No more would he say, nor would he look upon Elrond again, and the tears did not cease. He did not resist when the Lord of Imladris took him and bound him fast, leading him to a separate garden enclosed in high stone walls with an ornate iron gate. The bolt was turned as Elrond left and the key went into his pocket, and Legolas was left alone with his sorrow. A new song he sang, one of both love and despair, for he felt the life within him and welcomed his brother's soul into the kernel of being that was his unborn son. The imprisoning walls did not grieve him nor the lock distress his thoughts. He was content to bide his time and wait, for a certainty arose within him: he would be freed from his shameful state and returned to his people; all wrongs forgiven and hurts healed, there to bring forth his child with the last of his light and strength.

As for Elrond, the song haunted him even when it ended with the rising of the sun, and the Wood Elf's words settled in his soul, their weight like a prophesy and a doom from the Valar themselves.



Part Four
A month sped by and still Elrohir remained in exile, defying the bond incurred by the valourous efforts the three Noldorin Lords had expended to salvage the lowly Mirkwood archer. Then, he had felt pity for the Wood Elf, the sole survivor of a savage and brutal attack by Orcs. Why the small company of woodland folk were travelling through Eregion was still a mystery, for the last of the elusive warriors existed now in perpetual disassociation from reality, be it past or present. That might once have moved the younger of the twins to sympathy, too, but Elladan's desertion in favour of the Wood Elf reduced any charitable emotion to raw, ugly jealousy, for the twins had forged between them, long centuries past, a bond of souls in the way of mated pairs. Elrohir masked his anguish over the loss of this vital connection with fury and hatred for Legolas, relenting to the demands of the strange, unwelcome attraction with brutality and sadism.

It was not even to afflict Legolas so much as to rebuke Elladan that he indulged his darkest passions, yet seeing that his brother could so easily be injured in spirit by the Wood Elf's plight only fuelled Elrohir's brutish lust. Even now, wandering the wasted plains of Hollin, Elrohir felt the pull of the bond, longing to return to the valley and demand his rights over the forlorn Wood Elf. To Mithlond he had determined to go, there to dwell beside the sea or take ship across it to Aman, yet he could not make himself go beyond the empty lands wherein he had first encountered the archer. He cursed aloud and turned for Imladris, willing Elladan to ride forth to him, to leave with him forever, if need be, the source of their division and torment. It was not his brother that he met.

Now Glorfindel had indeed left Imladris due to the gross obscenity, as he perceived it, of the four-way bond. To see his Lord reduced to such depraved compulsion, to know he indulged it, to understand the part the sons played in the scandalous tetrad, these were circumstances he could not abide in peace. Difficult enough it would have been to abide a bond between the revered Lord and the humble sylvan, awkward enough to countenance intimate union with another male, but the sharing of the Wood Elf's body between the father and sons was an abomination he deemed of evil origin. His first recourse was to exhort his Lord to resist the call of the sylvan's soul and deny the pleasures of the flesh that call inspired, but these efforts to awaken Elrond to the perversion inherent in the unclean bond failed.

The noble scion of Eärendil could not see how base he had become, rationalising his acts as commonplace and insisting his motives were altruistic. Initially, the Balrog Slayer reasoned, it was likely so, but as years wore on the sylvan was reduced by degrees until he had ceased to be viewed as a person, one of Eru's Children, and this was a horrendous abuse. Sylvan he was and no doubt the forest folk were not as refined and cultured as the Noldor, but First-born they were and not the least among them should ever be treated as anything lesser. Under Elrond's possession, Legolas received not even the consideration the Lord granted to his horses and hounds, not one of which had ever been misused or struck. Glorfindel had seen bruises aplenty on the Wood Elf's body, for Elrond kept him but scantily clothed if not utterly nude, allowing all to see the marks of passion, the abrasions of lust, and the contusions of perpetual bondage.

All this moved Glorfindel to beg aid of Galadriel but ere he took that step he thought better of it, deeming how great an insult to the memory of her daughter this despicable union would be. The iniquity that had finally driven him to drastic measures made him shudder to recall, for all three of the Lords of Imladris had descended upon the Wood Elf, partaking of him together in the Hall of Fire, caring not who would enter to observe the scene. The sight of them all rhythmically pumping into the bound figure, the twins at the rear, Elrond rocking and groaning as he spilled down the sylvan's throat, had sickened the Balrog Slayer more than any heinous atrocity he had witnessed on the battlefield, counting both his life-times upon arda.

Yet he was not one to abandon a sacred oath and he considered his service to Elrond's House a trust conferred by no less than Manwë himself. Therefore, Glorfindel left the Valley not to seek a new haven for himself but to find the wizard, Mithrandir, and beg him to break the unholy spell. This took time, for the Istar was not in the habit of reporting his comings and goings upon Arda to anyone. At last he was discovered far to the south near Gondor, sneaking about the noisome bogs and swamps of Mindalf, the Wetwang. He had with him Aragorn, who had begun his time of errantry and was obviously on some mission of import at the wizard's behest, yet neither would reveal the cause that drew them so close to Mordor and the foul fens of the Dead Marshes. Upon hearing Glorfindel's report, both were willing to set aside this unnamed purpose and return to Imladris, there to assess the situation and render a remedy, if any could be wrought. Now they came through Eregion and spied Elrohir alone, a fey light within his grey eyes, and they hastened to greet him.

"What news of Imladris?" asked Glorfindel. "Is Elladan not with you?"

"You see that he is not," spat Elrohir in black rage. "Does it amuse you to find me outcast and abandoned? Why have you come back, Glorfindel? I thought you disapproved of our lovely golden bond-slave."

"I do indeed, and that is also the answer to your question. Here is Mithrandir to make an end of the loathsome alliance enjoined with the sylvan archer from Mirkwood," he answered.

"Can you break such a bond, wizard?" demanded the younger of the twins and there was a spark of hope in his eyes.

"I will know when I come to him, but I hope it may be so. What Glorfindel has described is not the nature of the bond of extremis which links a dying sylvan soul to a healthy one. The Wood Elves do not engage in the sort of debasement you, your brother, and your father have visited upon Legolas. Among his people, these bonds are deemed true and are recognised with honour, else the salvaged elf is sent away to Aman in shame," Mithrandir lectured, assessing Elrohir's mood with sorrow and concern, for even given the grief of his mother's torment, Elrohir had never been so immersed in rancourous despair.

"We have not debased him," claimed Elrohir. "He came to us that way."

"That cannot be true," objected Aragorn. "Is he not elf-kind? Wood Elf or not, he deserves to be treated with the dignity granted to all the First-born. It was not to wound you that he fell into such dire straights."

"Do not reprove me, Estel, for you have no knowledge fit to bear upon this subject. Save you words until you have seen what we have to deal with now," snapped Elrohir and he spurred his horse into a gallop, hoping to leave them behind.

The three riders would not permit it, following close on his charger's hooves, and the four thundered over the Ross'hir, shocking the guard stationed there so much that he called for reinforcements, believing there must be a company of Orcs on their tails. So Glorfindel returned to Imladris, and with Elrohir as unwilling guide came finally to the high walled garden wherein the Elven Lord imprisoned his bond-slave when he had duties to attend. From within issued a plaintive song, the voice fair but filled with unbearable sorrow. The gate was bolted and locked and Elrohir had just opened his mouth to demand they retire to the Last Homely House when Mithrandir spoke a word of command and broke the door at its hasps and hinges, so angry was he.

Alone among the four, he suspected the truth of Legolas' identity and feared the consequences should the Elven King come searching for his youngest son. Enough prejudice existed in Imladris against the forest folk without adding to it the notion that Thranduil was behind the enthralment of their noble Lords. The wizard hastened into the grounds, shoving Elrohir roughly aside, and soon came upon the languishing soul perched in the lower branches of an ancient oak. A loud gasp arose from Aragorn and Mithrandir turned to see the Dûnadan's face contorted in outrage, for the Wood Elf was bound at the hands and hobbled at the feet and naked. He was no longer singing, staring at the unexpected visitors through vague and shrouded eyes.

"It has grown worse since my absence," intoned Glorfindel sourly.

"Aye, we seldom kept him captive thus before," said Elrohir. "Perhaps he has attempted again to end his life." He approached the tree and reached up, seizing the Wood Elf's ankle and peering into the befuddled face. "Is that what happened? Were you so distraught with my desertion that you could not abide to remain in Arda?" He laughed brusquely as the sylvan shied away from him and would have yanked the elf from the branch but for the Balrog-slayer.

"Enough!" bellowed Glorfindel and snatched Elrohir back. "You have tormented him beyond all abiding and I for one have no wish to watch you ravish him where he lies." Then he turned to the wizard. "I will take him with me to the house and await you there. See if there is any help you can render that ill-fated archer." With that he went from the garden and took Elrond's younger son with him under force.

Now Aragorn moved to stand beneath the tree, worried for Legolas was making efforts to get higher, a difficult manoeuvre with his legs and hands restrained. Yet the tree itself aided the Wood Elf and before long he had attained a loftier spot, once more settled close against the trunk, humming softly as he gazed at the wizard obliquely now and then. Aragorn frowned and turned to Gandalf.

"I do not like this," he said. "Not only is he fettered, but he appears to be heavily sedated. Why would Elrond do such?"

"I suspect it is magic, though not of any sort the sylvan folk can make," opined Mithrandir. "Elrond may be proud and bear unjustified prejudice against Legolas' people, but he is neither cruel nor evil in his nature, nor are his sons. Yet evil has been done even as Glorfindel said." He smiled as the sound of his voice drew the Wood Elf once more to blinking scrutiny of his face. "See if you can coax him down, Aragorn."

The Man sent the Istar a look expressive of his opinion of this request, finding the likelihood of Legolas responding to him dubious at best. Nonetheless, one does not argue with a wizard and so he clambered awkwardly into the tree. When he had achieved a level near to the sylvan he paused and found the elf watching him intently, limbs tense and ready to spring away. He offered a kind smile and raised a hand in greeting.

"Suilad, Legolas. I am Aragorn, an elf-friend, and here is Mithrandir, an Istar and one of the disciples of Manwë. We have come to give you whatever aid we might." Gently he settled his hand on the bare calf and was surprised when the elf did not try to kick him in the teeth. Legolas was looking again to Mithrandir, brow furrowed as he struggled to recall the face of the ancient Maia. While his attention was thus diverted, the Man cut through the hithlain ropes about his ankles and tossed them to the ground.

"M'thra'dir?" the elf slurred, eyes growing wide as again he tried to gather his thoughts. "Ada's friend."

"Yes, young one, that is right," said the wizard, smiling warmly. "We met when you were just a child, though that was not so long ago. This Man, Aragorn, is my friend and thus also your Ada's friend, and now yours also. Climb down and let him untie your hands."

New energy animated the sylvan's form and he leaped from the protection of the tree, landing before the wizard with only a slight wobble. "Mithrandir," he said, the word more distinct this time, and without further preamble went and laid his head against the Istar's rough grey robes. A deep sigh shook him and then he exhaled a faint trilling purr as the powerful emissary of the Blessed wrapped comforting arms around him.

"Aye, you are safe now, pen neth," crooned Mithrandir, softly stroking the head of golden hair and rubbing the tense shoulders. He held Legolas close and felt the subtle change in breathing that surely signalled the onset of tears. Quietly, so that only Legolas could hear, he murmured an incantation in the Wood Elf's ear. There was no visible sign of any effect, but the wizard had faith his prayer had chased away the ugly shade crowding the Wood Elf's argent aura.

While the Maia cleared the sylvan's soul, Aragorn freed his hands. At once those hands moved forward and took hold of the lengthy mass of the wizard's beard, entwining the straggling strands about the fingers, and the Man chuckled, finding it child-like and evocative of the elf's youth. Then his smile departed, for he could denote the bones of the lean, spare back too well, the vertebrae and ribs easy to count. Legolas seemed half-starved. On impulse, the Man removed his cloak and draped it over the naked body, feeling instinctively that Legolas would not wish to be so vulnerable in the presence of people he did not know.

"He is wasting away, Gandalf, here in the most lush and abundant of all the realms of Arda! Master Elrond has much to explain," Aragorn complained.

"It is not in his knowledge to explicate this dire conundrum, for in many ways the effect was not expected, even by the creator of the hideous poison," said Gandalf. "I am sure that once released from its unnatural influence, Lord Elrond will be horrified to realise what he has done."

"Then you attribute all that has transpired to the toxic agent the Orcs perfected?"

"It was surely not the Orcs who invented it, Aragorn, but I am nearly certain that is the root of the strange… What did you say?" Mithrandir interrupted his own sentence, reacting to a query by the sylvan prince that shocked him utterly. Carefully he eased the slender figure out from him enough to search the drug-hazed eyes.

"My son, is he well? Has the potion harmed him?" Legolas repeated, his thoughts growing sharper by the second as the wizard's prayer worked to bolster his natural defences and flush the remains of Elrond's soporific from his system.

"I know not what you can possibly mean," answered the wizard, concerned over this delusion and uncertain whether he should try to reason with the elf or simply let him regain clarity on his own.

"Oh!" Aragorn exclaimed, eyes bulging as they tracked over Legolas, looking now with the healing insight gifted to him by virtue of his ancient lineage to Elros and through him to Melian. "Gandalf, he is serious. This elf is with child. Look and you will see."

"Aye," murmured Legolas and his hands settled over his abdomen protectively. "I refused his food and drink until he and Elladan forced it in me. Even then I tried to regurgitate most of it. He must have used a very large quantity of the herbs, for I last saw him last night when they did this and can remember nothing of the interval in between."

"Oh dear," intoned Mithrandir. "Legolas, what were you thinking? This is really not the best time to reproduce."

"Nay, it is the only time, wizard. It is the will of the Valar, and their prompting has brought you here to me now. Quickly, we need to get away from Imladris. I must return to my people, for I would see my Naneth." Legolas was fully in command of his faculties again and realised the chance he had prayed for had at last arrived. Impatiently he tugged on the Maia's arm, pulling the cloak about him closer as he whistled for the horses.

"Wait! You cannot go racing away on horseback naked and with no provisions," exclaimed Aragorn, reaching for Legolas' arm. "You are in no condition to manage so gruelling a journey."

"Who are you to detain me, a prince of Greenwood?" demanded the sylvan, eyeing the Man curiously, for there was about the human a depth and intelligence he was unused to finding in the Second-born.

"Aragorn is a friend, Legolas, and a gifted healer," Mithrandir answered for him since Aragorn was staring speechless with mouth ajar at the sylvan elf. "Heed his advise, for if he doubts you are strong enough to endure the hardships of the trail then you would endanger yourself and the child to risk it."

"A healer?" Legolas surveyed the Man with eager eyes and took a step toward him. "You can tell if my babe is well and strong?"

"I can, Ernilen," he answered honestly and dipped his head in respect, shocked beyond thought to realise this unfortunate soul was the son of the Woodland King. "I would also recommend a thorough physical examination, for your own health has suffered since the battle that brought you to Imladris."

"I am not called that by anyone except Galion," said Legolas, an amused smile reaching his eyes for the first time in more days than he wished to count. "Legolas will do. I will submit to your care, Aragorn, if it will aid my retreat. It is imperative that I leave here as soon as possible. Elrond will only detain me with stronger medicines and tighter bonds if he learns I am free."

"He knows already," explained Mithrandir. "It is Glorfindel who fetched me hither, not the Valar, and he has already gone up to the house with Elrohir in tow. You were not in command of your consciousness or you would recall this. Yet do not despair, for I feel positive the effects of the magic infecting Elrond and his sons can be expunged. There may be no need to flee at all."

"Magic! You, learned in the arts of sorcery, would accuse me as well? I have made no spell to bind the Lord of Imladris to me, nor his wretched sons!" Legolas seethed, standing tall and drawing Aragorn's cloak tight about him. "I see it now; you are the Noldorin Lord's friend more than my Adar's and would conspire to keep me here. It will avail you not, for I have sent word to my people and they will come for me." He stepped back and turned to leave the garden, intending to escape into the wild woods in the high hills surrounding the vale, but the wizard was quicker in fact than he seemed in form and blocked his way.

"Stop! I am not in league with Elrond, nor is he in his right mind. Magic there is though it does not stem from you, Legolas, but a malignant source bent on destruction of the First-born: Sauron."

Elf and Man gasped in unison, though this was the only likely answer for the events that had occurred in fair Imladris; events of so unclean a nature that Orcs would find them a delight. The idea spawned a bright and gleaming hope in Legolas' heart.

"You can free him from this thraldom. Once you do, all will be well."

Before anyone could comment on this remark, hurrying footsteps sounded as Elrond, the Twins, Glorfindel, and Erestor raced across the grounds and entered the garden through the broken gate.

"Mithrandir, what is the meaning of this?" demanded Elrond. "Long have we been allies, yet I find you arrived in my realm intending to steal away my bond-mate? Legolas is mine and you will step back from him at once." The Elven Lord's face was dark and thunderous and his eyes flashed with fury as they moved from the wizard to his foster-son to Legolas. "Running off with the first person you encounter, this is how you repay my charity?" he shouted, pointing at the Wood Elf.

"Silence!" bellowed Mithrandir, raising his arms and commanding even the water to cease its gentle rustling. Then he held out his hand for his staff and the heavy, gnarled rod flew to his grasp, a spark of bright fire dancing around his fingers where they gripped it. He lifted it high over the head of the Elven Lord. "Elrond Half-elven, leader of the remnant of the Noldor, last of the mighty princes of that ill-fated race, Heir to Ereinion, Keeper of Vilya, and chosen protector of the Kings of Men, by my command and the will of Manwë you are released of this burden of darkness and freed from the bondage of the black poison! You, and your sons alongside you, open your eyes and see the truth revealed!"

The wizard's words rang with the power and majesty of Aman and the deep and echoing tones shook the ground beneath their feet. A great rush of air, dank and foetid, rolled over the garden yet not so much as a leaf fluttered and in its passing the light of Anor seemed brighter and the breath of the Wind Lord sweet in the lungs of the people gathered there. The silence that followed was fraught with uncertainty, a mood that quickly gave way to unspeakable dismay as each of Imladris' Lords looked upon Legolas and saw with absolute clarity the crimes and the sins of which all three were guilty.

The twins clung together until Elrohir had to turn away, crumpling to the ground where he retched violently, Elladan beside him trying to soothe his bitter remorse.

"Ai Valar!" Elrond cried and cast himself down on his knees, covering his face for he could not bear to see Legolas nor endure the censure in the stark black glare of the ancient Maia. "What have I done? May Manwë forgive me." Then he raised his head and met the clear blue eyes of the elf he had so terribly wronged. "Legolas, I am profoundly ashamed and can only beg your forgiveness. It was not in my heart to treat you so basely."

Then Legolas did a remarkable thing. His heart was generous and true and he was ready to forget all the suffering endured and absolve Elrond of his crimes. Therefore he went to the mighty Lord and lifted him up again, holding to his hands, offering a warm smile and sincere praise instead of harsh denunciations.

"Hîren, that is easily done and gladly. This villainy was not of your making nor your intention and I hold you blameless in all that passed between us. Let it be forgotten, for now we can proclaim the joy such bonds were meant to sponsor and I will walk beside you always, your devoted mate for all time."

The reaction to this heartfelt exoneration and proposal combined was not what the sylvan elf expected. He found himself staring into grey eyes stricken with anguish and filled with pity. A pit opened beneath Legolas' heart and he struggled to surmount the sharp agony its drop precipitated.

"Legolas," Elrond began, lifting a hand to cover the fair cheek, both awed by the depth of love the Wood Elf must feel to grant him amnesty and perturbed by the terms demanded to affect that pardon. He was not desirous of a permanent bond with this child of the woods, lovely though he was and sweet though their joining be. "That is not possible. A Lord of the Noldorin folk cannot seal an eternal bond of union with a male sylvan from Mirkwood."

"Cannot?" Legolas cried, his face going white in both shame and fury. He let go the elder elf's hands and stepped back. "You will scorn me after all, even with the spell broken and the poison driven out, your heart remains closed to me." Then his eyes flickered to the twins, still crouched upon the ground, clutching one another, staring at him in a mixture of dread and gratitude. They would never be able to separate him from the breach between them and ever would that wound lead to resentment. "Nay, no heart for me or hên-muindoren (my child-brother)." Then he turned to Mithrandir and offered him a grim smile. "You see, it was the will of the Valar you came, for here I am not welcome nor would my child be embraced. However difficult the journey, I have no choice now but to make it." Once more he went and bent his head upon the wizard's chest and let the Maia draw him close.

"Child? What does he mean?" asked Erestor, leery of the answer, his sight travelling from his cousin to the Twins to Mithrandir and back.

"Legolas, you need not leave until your health improves," Elrond insisted, taking a half-step toward the slumped figure bundled in the flowing cloak and the wizard's protection. The reference to a child failed to anchor in his thoughts, so overwrought with guilt was he, or perhaps these were words he simply chose not to hear.

"We are not fit to have you as our mate," whispered Elladan sadly, "and even less suited to get you with child. You deserve someone who will love you with all the capacity his heart contains." Beside him Elrohir flinched but Elladan would not permit him to get free and slink away. Face him. It is the least you can do and if you want me beside you through the penance we must remit, you will do it now.

"I…I know of no apology that can cover the things done to you by my hands," he said, struggling to make the words pass his lips and his eyes meet the woodland archer's, for like his father Elrohir was proud and unwilling to humble himself, even when his deeds demanded it for the betterment of his soul.

"So be it," hissed Legolas. "No apology in words shall ever erase the debt you owe to me, Elrohir of Imladris. I will subject you to no other judgement; let the memory of what you have done inspire the suffering you will undergo to expiate your guilt." Then he turned and left the garden, striding for the house to gather what he might to see him through the journey, and Aragorn hastened after him. Hearing the footsteps, Legolas' heart cringed again, for they did not denote the light, purposeful pace of his chosen mate. Yet he did not hinder the Man though no words passed between them as they continued across the grounds.

"Are you still standing here, Elrond?" barked Mithrandir angrily. "There goes your mate, the second one to march away from your lands and leave you bereft of comfort and company."

Elrond startled and gaped at the wizard, but could not manage a fitting rebuttal and his eyes turned to follow the diminishing form of the sylvan archer and his foster-son. A strong pang of fear shot through him as the idea that he might never see the Wood Elf again manifested in his thoughts. He squelched it, scoffing at the irrational notion, for surely Legolas would not attempt the lengthy trip until his health was restored.

"Mithrandir, there is more happening here than has been revealed," suggested Glorfindel. Like Erestor, he had heard clearly Legolas' words and did not discount them. "Let us follow the Wood Elf and hold conference together, for I perceive my instincts were true: this convoluted catastrophe is not to be so easily resolved."

"You are right," nodded Mithrandir, "but I fear now that no resolution may come, at least not a happy one. If only you had found me sooner, this might have been prevented and the loss of so bright a soul averted."

Elrond and Erestor shared between them a look filled with alarm and each demanded an full explanation of these cryptic words, but nothing more would Mithrandir say. He set off in Legolas' wake and all the noble elves trailed after. Together they came to Elrond's study and there he revealed what he knew of the black spell that had contaminated the best intentions of the three Lords and sullied the purpose of the sylvan instinct for preservation.

The poison with which Legolas had been injected during battle, previously without antidote and lethal, had mingled with the unique chemistry stirring in his blood, altering the wholesome nature of the call of his soul. Through their converse with him, an urge Elrond and his sons could not deny by virtue of their sylvan ancestry, they had been infected as well. Then all four were caught in the destructive enmity which had generated the malignant magic permeating the Orcs and their toxin, though Mithrandir named the wrong source for that malevolent artistry, not yet suspecting that another of his Order would seek for power over the lands and peoples of Middle-earth.

"This is clear to me," said Glorfindel, "and now that you have revealed it, I fail to comprehend why I did not suspect something akin to it."

"We were all ready to lay the fault upon Legolas and the sylvan bonding instinct," said Elladan.

"That is likely so," Erestor remarked, "but does not count for much nor explain what Legolas meant when he referred to his child-brother. Mithrandir, can you illuminate that issue?"

"It is what you suspect," answered the Maia. "Legolas has conceived and considers his child a vessel for the rebirth of his brother, whose death he accounts a sin for which he must atone."

"Conceived?" Elrond shot from his chair in shock and dread both, eyes flying to the shut door of the bedroom behind which Legolas and Aragorn remained. "He is not fit to bear a child and has no mate to grant him the strength he will require."

"For that you can accept responsibility," growled Mithrandir. "He will perish upon the child's birth, having donated every ounce of his own light to ensure the babe's soul will flourish. Legolas will not shirk his debt, even if it is not really one he ought to be made to bear."

Elrond cringed and dropped back into the seat, burying his head in his hands.

"A child?" breathed Elladan, clutching Elrohir's hand tight as his eyes filled with tears. "We have killed them both."

"Rach-en-Námo! (Námo's curse)" spat Erestor, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. "Whose child is it?"

"Mine."

The hard, scornful tones of this single word jolted them all and drew every eye to the bedroom door, for there stood Legolas dressed in raiment fitting to a prince among elf-kind, clothing Aragorn had found for him amid the storage rooms. He was more noble and magnificent than they had ever beheld him, despite his weary, shadowed eyes and emaciated form. His pack was on his back along with his quiver and in his hand was his bow. In dark disdain he surveyed them, favouring each elf with the full weight of his affronted dignity. Even when Elrond stood and came to him, hands outstretched, he held himself aloof, far beyond the reach of their arrogance and conceit, and folded his arms before his wounded heart.

"Legolas," said Elrond, his feet inching toward the rigid form. "Please, do not risk the new life within you. Stay and bolster your strength; indeed, there is no need for you to go at all. Here you are safe and your child will…"

"My child will be born in Greenwood and placed in the arms of my Naneth. Aye, my child is my concern, for the babe is mine alone, seeing you are less than eager to claim paternity."

"There is no certainty this issue is of my loins," objected Elrond, unconsciously recoiling from Legolas as if the very idea of mixing his seed with the inferior essence of sylvan moriquendi repulsed him, and this was so. "It could as easily be the progeny of one of my sons."

"Elrohir's, mine, or yours, what can it matter, Adar?" demanded Elladan, shocked that an innocent life would be put at risk to protect his father's pride. "You would condemn the child and Legolas just to shield the reputation of the House of Eärendil from scandal. It is unconscionable!" Then he turned to Legolas. "Do not go forth and risk the babe. Remain and I will make certain you are both treated with the dignity you deserve."

"Are you proposing to him?" demanded Elrohir, arising and advancing on his brother.

"One of us must," answered Elladan, "surely you can see it is the only way to atone for our wrongs."

"If you place a ring upon his hand, I will surely fade. Is your brother's life worth less to you than That Wood Elf's?" seethed Elrohir.

"Enough!" shouted Mithrandir. "This is Legolas' decision. What say you to Elladan's offer?"

"It is gallant and speaks of the true nature of his heart, which is noble," said Legolas, "but his soul is closed to me, save but a minute portion. I know that to separate Elladan from Elrohir would likely doom both brothers, and I have enough blood on my hands. I will go back to my forests and reside among the trees.

"At least in Greenwood my family will shelter me and do all they may to enhance Galbreth's development. At least there he will be loved and cherished. And since I must die to bring him back then I will face that doom among the people who feel something for me other than disgust and revilement, even shamed and disgraced as I am."

He moved toward the exit, Aragorn following and Mithrandir rising to accompany them, when the door flew open and Faelon raced in breathless and wild-eyed.

"Forgive me, Hîren," he said as he bowed to Elrond, "but there was not time for proper protocol. Scouts have ridden in haste from the ford. An army of sylvan archers stands ready to cross the Bruinen and King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm leads them."



Part Five
In utter silence they stood, steadfast and motionless in ordered ranks, quieter than the trees beneath which they dwelled, the stillness more encompassing, more intense than the perilous pause for breath before a terrible battle bursts into being. In grim wonder they stared, clad in green and brown, arrows nocked but bowstrings slack, faces set in the expressionless masks of the trained warrior for whom no distraction is permitted. Across the wide and shallow ford, the archers of the Woodland Realm gazed at their counterparts, for Glorfindel's warriors barred entry to the Hidden Vale. Arrayed in shining armour, hands upon the hilts of their swords, the Noldorin soldiers appeared just as stalwart as the woodland warriors, yet in their wordless appraisal the sylvans' contempt drifted in the air, exhaled with every breath that left their lungs. For these sword-bearing Noldor would all be dead before so much as one of those bright mithril blades came within striking distance of any sylvan throat, though Glorfindel himself lead the charge, should their King but give the signal.

Yet the rumour of them was false and while these were a people vigilant and brave in the defence of their own, they were neither primitive nor violent, for here also was a people for whom it was anathema to spill elven blood. Great would the provocation need to be to incite them to pierce the body of any elf with their arrows. Even Noldor accused of kinslaying would have to be openly in attack upon them before the sylvan folk would raise their bows and fight their own. That was a fact they were unlikely to announce at such a time as this, however, and it suited them to play the part prejudice had assigned them and present the demeanour of menace and fierce wrath and all those traits of mysterious art for which they had become legendary. And this was the easier as their garb was dishevelled and blood-smeared, their faces streaked with grime and gore, for they had met resistance in Hithaeglir and there paused to cleanse the High Pass of Orcs, for a time.

In the forefront of the host was Thranduil, the last of the elven Kings of Beleriand and distantly linked to the people of Thingol. Beside him on his right hand stood his eldest grandson, Aras, and on his left was Galion, the famed advisor who had served him and his father before him with wisdom and compassion through all the turmoil and torment of the last Age and beyond. They were dressed for battle as were the warriors and even the King was besmirched with the residue of war and had about his arm a wrapping to stem the flow of blood from a sword wound. His countenance was as inscrutable as any of his people; his eyes cold as they stared across the dividing water at the captain of the Imladrian forces, wondering who this person was and whether he was someone he had fought alongside at Dagorlad all those centuries ago. This officer had come forth to meet him with courtesy and respect, bowing low ere he offered to serve as escort for the elven King into the land of Elrond Half-elven.

This gracious invitation Thranduil had declined, stating that he would not set foot in Imladris while his son was there held captive, for such was the rumour that had reached him and to remedy this unspeakable offence against the dignity of his House had he come over the mountains. Then he had suggested that word should be sent to bring Lord Elrond hither, or his son, or both, that he might judge the relevance of the news brought to him in the whisper of the wind, the rustling of leaf and limb, and the murmuring of brook and stream.

The serious captain had grown decidedly pale and yet had bowed as he retreated and complied with this demand, sending away three of his scouts to gather reinforcements, which had arrived with an ordered rapidity that Thranduil could not help but admire, and to warn their Lord of the pending disaster. Now the two armies stared each other down in tense anticipation, the broad, shallow flood of Bruinen dividing them, but it was Thranduil's will that kept them yet at peace.

At last a clear high note as of a lark at dawn rang through the air and all the Wood Elves shifted in subtle harmony, turning toward the sound, eyes gleaming with hopeful joy, and Thranduil's emerald gaze swept the expanse of the horizon impatiently even as he gave an answering call into the fading day. Then a horse in full gallop crested the low hill and thundered down the flood plain, white mane and tale streaming in the wind of his passing, and upon his back rode Legolas, smiling with such radiance that it was infectious, and a great cheer rose up among the sylvan warriors. 'Eglerio Tawar' they cried and 'Harthad mín addeli na Gladgalen' while some said in simple relief 'Mae govannen, Ernil Neth'.

All this amazed the soldiers of Imladris, especially that last greeting, and they murmured in dread and shifted about in anxious agitation, turning to watch the approach of their Lords' debased catamite. They parted before the racing horse, recognising the steed as none other than Asfoloth, Glorfindel's own charger.

Into the shining ripples of the river the gallant horse's hooves plunged, sending up bright jets and sprays of liquid in the glimmering rays of the sun wherein here and there rainbows danced for a second before the water returned to its proper bed. But ere long Legolas leaped from Asfoloth and with a jubilant cry raced on foot to his father, who was already in the stream, and the two met in the centre of the flood, Thranduil catching the slender form that leaped into his arms and clutching him close, laughing and crying at the same time, lifting his son from the ground entirely, for the Elven King was tall after the manner of the Sindarin elves in the Time before Time. He could only repeat his son's name, soul raised in exultant gratitude to have him back alive and whole if not entirely well and strong, while Legolas could only weep, saying over and over in his Adar's ear: 'Tellich, tellich' (You came, you came). For he had not been sure, in the haze and fog caused by the herbs Elrond fed him, if the desperate call for aid had been understood by the trees and the wind and the water to which he had imparted his plight.

Then they parted but only enough for Legolas to walk beside his father, their arms linked at the elbows as though they were friends and comrades as much as father and son, which was so, and the warriors cheered loudly and parted to allow them within the ranks. There Legolas found all those who yet remained of his own company, those who had remained in Greenwood rather than join the failed mission that had ended in tragedy and death. There many hands reached to touch him in friendship and goodwill and many voices welcomed him back, and not one of them cared that he had been accounted of less value than a hunting hound in the land where he'd sheltered.

Into Galion's care Thranduil passed his son, seeing that Legolas had suffered and reading in the youth's eyes the desire to get out of the clothing his captors had gifted him and wear the colours of his homeland. Also it was clear to every eye that the lesser prince was malnourished, and there was ample provision which he would find palatable and several elves joined the two, offering what small delicacies they had stored in their packs, things of Greenwood that Legolas would relish. So Thranduil returned to the banks of the river in time to behold the approach of Elrond and his kinsman, Erestor, the twin sons born to him by his half-Sindarin bride, Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower, Mithrandir the disciple of Manwë, and a Man of humble mien but noble bearing, all on horseback and dressed in regal garb, save the wizard. Thranduil did not meet them in the stream, but when they had all reached the mid-point he called out.

"Suilad, Elrond o Imladris, ananta úbedon 'mae govannen' an sen arad gâr glass ar maur an nin ar le," he said and he did not bow nor even dip his head in deference to the Lord of the lands to which he had travelled. (Greetings, Elrond of Imladris, and yet I will not say 'well met' for this day holds both joy and gloom for me and thee.) "Man agorech na ionen?" (What have you done to my son?)

Then Elrond halted his horse and dismounted and all the others followed his lead. When he had taken two more steps toward the western shore of Bruinen, he knelt in the water and lowered his forehead almost to touch the icy flow. His two sons came beside him and did likewise and after a second of contemplation even Erestor assumed this humble pose. At last Elrond answered the Elven King's question.

"King Thranduil, Lord of Greenwood the Great and Adar of Legolas, evil has been done unto your younger son in my lands, though it was not my will that wrought it. I beg pardon on behalf of my people, for my culpability is by association theirs, and plead that the resolution of thy just grievance afflicts only myself. Spare my sons and my kinsman and exact what penalty you deem fit, for I am ready to atone for the wrongs Legolas has endured under asylum in my realm."

These were proper words and yet to a father's ears they seemed paltry indeed and answered nothing. Thranduil glared at the bowed head, angry that the Noldorin Lord would not look upon his face.

"Asylum did you say? That is a generous term for bondage and torment. Not of your will was this evil done, you claim? Yet who rules these lands and orders its activities, if not you? Spare your sons and your kinsman? Why, in this you have indicted them alongside yourself, for until now I did not know the extent of the atrocities to which Legolas was subjected. How can such degradation be excused? I say it is an unforgivable offence you have done unto Legolas."

Then Mithrandir came forward and raised his hand to Thranduil in greeting and restraint, for he could see the ire kindling in the King's eyes.

"King Thranduil, your anger is just and none would dispute the right of a father to demand redress for crimes visited upon his child. Yet I do assert that not all the wrongs done to him were the fault of the Lord of Imladris and his kin. They were influenced by a vile and virulent magic, the source of which is that Dark Lord which we do not name. Have pity and show mercy, therefore, upon folk who were used to achieve the very breach occurring now, and in granting your pardon shatter the design of that degenerate demon."

In tense anticipation the soldiers of both sides waited while the Elven King weighed this plea, assessing the wizard with keen bright eyes and looking to the Noldorin Lord and his sons and kinsman, still kowtowed in the swirling stream. Then he turned and met the haggard eyes of his disgraced son and between them passed a powerful communication that made Thranduil draw breath sharply, and he went at once to Legolas and again enfolded him in a close embrace while the two conversed in confidence that none others could overhear. When they broke apart again, the King returned in fury to the banks of the Bruinen and waded in and with powerful strides reached the bowed figure of the Elven Lord even before Mithrandir could get between them.

"Erio a tiro nin, hû thaur, tiro nin vi hîn a pedo peth thenin. Gwedhitha le na ion edwen, Legolas o Gladgalen, egor gweriatha le estel tîn?" (Stand and face me, abhorrent dog, and speak truth. Will you bind yourself to my second son, Legolas of Greenwood, whom you have got with child, or betray his trust?)

Slowly Elrond stood, robes dripping and heavy, closing about his knees like a cloying shroud of death, and lifted his eyes to Thranduil. In the grey depths was a mixture of outrage over this insult, spoken aloud before all his troops and his sons and his renowned general, and sorrowful remorse, for he could not imagine life without Legolas and his heart ached at the loss already. Yet before his warring emotions could come to terms, his second son broke the silence and answered for all.

"That is not meet, to name my father, a noble Lord of ancient lineage sprung from the Three Kindred: Maiar, Eldar, and Edain, a dog and in the next breath demand a marriage to this woodland prince of the trees." Saying this, he stood and met his father's astonished eyes even as a low and menacing growl sounded from the Sindarin Lord.

"Nay!" shouted Elladan, leaping to his feet and grabbing at his brother's arms to shake him. "You seal Legolas' death and that of a child, mayhap your own seed and most surely your own flesh and blood! Let Adar answer!"

A harsh gasp arose among the sylvan warriors, for only now did they understand: their prince had been used by all three of the Noldorin Lords and one had bred him. Even then, not one had seen fit to make the bond permanent. Their eyes fell upon Erestor still on his knees in the water and they wondered if a fourth male had taken advantage of Legolas' severe need. This was indeed a sordid affair and low and discontented were the murmurs sweeping the ranks.

"Neither need perish; send Legolas over sea, as our Naneth was forced to go," answered Elrohir coldly, for he would not put aside his pride and regretted even the apology he had affirmed by kneeling beside his father and brother. "Let the child be born and fostered there since the Valar alone know which of us fathered it."

"The answer is given," railed Aras, pointing in fury and disgust to Elrond. "See, the Lord of Imladris does not dispute his son's remarks nor silence the tongue that calls my uncle unfit to mingle with Noldorin bloodlines. Shall these fiends return unpunished to their lofty halls?" So saying he bent his bow and trained in upon the Elven Lord.

But Thranduil ordered him to stand down at once and with his own hand took the bow from Aras' hands, seeing no good would come of starting a bloody war.

"Nay, we will not meet this difficulty on the level the Noldorin Lords have set but stand above it. Justice we shall have, but I cannot force any against his own will to accept Legolas as wedded mate," Thranduil decreed.

Then again he looked to Legolas and found that his son was locked in silent and sorrowful converse with the mighty Elven Lord, and the pain and anguish on his younger child's face told all: Legolas had given over his heart to the ancient Elf and only Elrond's pledge might spare him. Thranduil went to him and wrapped a protective arm about the slumping shoulders, shielding from the Noldorin people the sight of the tears that had begin to fall from the downcast blue eyes. Indeed, his own vision was blurred with equal sorrow, for he saw that he had reclaimed his child only to lose him in the passing of a year. No more did Thranduil speak and he turned not again to the Lord of Imladris, but instead led his son away among the trees beside the road.

Now Mithrandir and Aragorn were saddened and grim, Glorfindel was appalled and could scarcely hold his tongue, while Erestor gaped at his cousin in disbelief. But Elladan ran across the stream, calling for Legolas, and the sylvan warriors parted and let him come, though Aras soon barred his path.

"What do you want here, Nodlorin prince?" he demanded.

"I will be Legolas' mate," he offered, "if he would have me. I cannot allow your uncle to perish nor risk the unborn child because of the wrongs done here by me and my folk."

"Come back across the river, Elladan," shouted Elrohir. "Come back across now or come back never!" His voice was shrill and his eyes were inflamed with the pain over this betrayal, as he deemed it.

"Be silent!" commanded Mithrandir and a quick motion of his fingers sent a surge of power to make it so. "Elrond, will you let your eldest son do this thing when he is not the one Legolas requires?"

"Elladan is of age to make such decisions on his own," answered Elrond sadly, for his heart bade him go and his pride refused to permit it, and this option was a fitting recourse.

He believed Elladan's sacrifice would serve to appease the heated wrath of the Woodland King and smother the enmity this unfortunate situation generated between the already estranged realms. Legolas would live, his child be born strong and well, and the line of Eärendil spared the taint of kinslaying. This he truly thought. Elrond offered his hand to Erestor, still kneeling in the frigid water, and helped him rise, treading back with him to the eastern side of the Bruinen.

In silent disapproval Glorfindel watched them pass. Then he traded glances with Mithrandir and the Dûnadan, but upon Elrohir he had no desire to look, for he was bitterly disappointed in the Lord's younger son and wondered if the magic of the Dark Lord still ran in his veins. Then the Balrog-slayer ordered his troops to return to their stations and followed them, but Asfaloth he commanded to remain among the Wood Elves in order to bear Legolas home in comfort and without strain. Ere he was gone from sight, he raised his voice in salute to the noble gesture of Elladan, saying:

"Namarië Elladan o Imladris, Hîl o Gil-galad, Dior, Thingol, ar Fingon, i erui alawartha haew fael ar brand o Noss în. Namarië, linnatha nin o carth lín vi Thamas Naur." (Farewell Elladan of Imladris, heir of Gil-Galad, Dior, Thingol, and Fingon, who alone abandons not the just and noble habits of his House. Farewell, we will sing of your deed in the Hall of Fire.)

All the soldiers under his command repeated the good-bye, eager to let their eldest prince know he would not be forgotten and his leaving would be mourned.

Mithrandir followed after Elrond, hoping to reason with the noble Lord, while Aragorn crossed the river to the western bank and when the Wood Elves departed in the night, he journeyed with them, so to ensure the health of Legolas would not be compromised during the harrowing ascent of the High Pass. Alone, Elrohir stood in the rippling water of the ford, unable to believe Elladan had left him. When darkness covered the land and all the woodland warriors had departed, then he turned his face to the west in defiance and rode from the valley toward Mithlond.

Thus did King Thranduil reclaim his lost son and carry him back to the forbidding shadows beneath the forest of Greenwood.



Part Six
Time passed slowly but each dawn unfolded and each night descended until four months transpired since the day King Thranduil had retrieved his son from the lands of the Noldorin Lords. The journey back had been difficult but uneventful and Legolas had fared as well as he might with Aragorn watching over his health and Elladan watching over his spirit. Upon arriving in Greenwood, a hasty ceremony had been arranged and Elladan had indeed placed a golden band on Legolas' hand, and wore in turn one from the weary archer, for Legolas relented to his father and his nephew's insistent demands that he be wedded. Then Greenwood's Queen revealed news that shocked her younger son and nearly broke him, for she herself had conceived with her husband and together remade the body for Galbreth's soul, which dwelt happily within her.

Then Legolas understood why his Adar had insisted on the binding ceremony, for without the steadfast presence of Elladan he might have gone mad, realising he had created a new life and a new soul, putting this babe at risk without cause. If Legolas should not survive the birth, who would claim the infant if not Elladan? True, his parents would raise the child but to grow up among the sylvan folk without wedded parents was a great shame and a stigma. When he believed the child to be Galbreth, this was not an issue, for the King and Queen of the Woodland Realm were his rightful parents and Legolas had thought of himself as but a surrogate.

Now he was the life-bearer of this unknown soul and everyone could not help but know it, even as they would have known, but for Elladan, that the babe's father would not claim him. The thought that he had come so close to condemning this innocent to ignominy terrified Legolas. Upon him lay the complete responsibility for generation of this little life, whether it should flourish or fade before its first year, and the weight of that obligation was profound. In addition he was fearful that his sin against Galbreth now remained unanswered. What might the Valar do to avenge his careless misdeeds? From moment to moment he dreaded their wrath, worrying that his babe would be taken away from him as punishment.

Through it all Elladan lent what comfort he could, but in truth he was suffering greatly and his guilt and fear were at least as pervasive as Legolas'. From day to day his thoughts sought for Elrohir and wondered where he was and how he fared. Would he fade in truth, as he had threatened? If so, then Elladan had chosen Legolas and the child over his own soul-mate, and this was a terrible betrayal, though how he might have avoided it he could not see. The notion that he had killed his own brother, the one being in all of Arda who understood him and loved him wholly, ate at his heart and he sickened.

Though he tried to hide it from Legolas, Elladan's diminishing strength was apparent. What to do about it kept his mind in constant turmoil. The argument went round and round unceasingly: should he pour out all of his light to nourish Legolas' child ere he passed? If so, then what part of his spirit would be left to seek for Elrohir in Mandos? Yet, should he withhold his strength from his sylvan mate, then both child and life-bearer might perish, too.

Shall the four of us reside in Námo's Keeping? That would be an unhealthy combination and no healing would any of us achieve, nor should an innocent be forced to languish there for his parents' errors. The child should live and be happy, cherished in the fullness of Legolas' love, which is abundant.

"You are brooding again," murmured Legolas, but the charge was not made in anger but compassion. "Go and search for him, Elladan. I will be well for a little while. You can return to us once you have spoken with Elrohir."

"I do not mean to worry you," whispered Elladan, smiling as he drew the elf close and planted a gentle kiss upon the bare belly, now a tight round mound of hard flesh. The child was still, no vibrant kicks nor even soft and fluttery ripples did Legolas report, nor had Elladan ever felt them, and while neither one mentioned it their worry was growing much faster than the babe. "I will not leave, be assured of that. Elrohir knows where I am and can come hither whenever he desires. It is that he does not desire it which pains me."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"'Tis not your doing," sighed Elladan, meeting the blue eyes with warm affection. He leaned forward and claimed the supple lips that readily opened for him and fully indulged the delight of kissing the sylvan prince.

Truly, what he felt for Legolas was love and he rejoiced in it, even knowing that affection was lesser than the love he bore for Elrohir and as faintly returned. That was not Legolas' fault either, for Elrond had claimed him first and imparted the greatest measure of light to salvage him. Even that was but half the story, for had the brothers treated their sylvan mate properly, Legolas might have turned his heart to them and none of this need have happened. Then the three of them would be sharing this bed and Legolas' ripening body, a truly erotic phenomenon that Elladan could not resist.

He caressed the swell beneath the naval, smiling when Legolas murmured that lovely trilling purr of his, the one that meant he was eager for love. He bent and kissed the warm skin again, dabbing at the fold that was daily becoming less an indentation and more a stretched rim. This made Legolas giggle and so he let his lips wander to the tender sides where the Wood Elf was very ticklish, and soon had him wriggling and roaring with laughter.

"Enough!" cried Legolas. "I yield, I yield!"

"I was not aware that terms had been offered," snickered Elladan. "I will say when you've had enough." Even so he stopped the merciless tickling and moved on, tasting his way up to the underarm, lapping at the heat and inhaling the scent that gathered where Legolas had the faintest wisp of cornsilk coloured hairs. "I don't know what it is about your scent, but it drives me wild." Elladan whispered. "It must be some sylvan trait, for Elrohir and I do not have this particular quality." He sampled the flavour of it and moaned, feeling Legolas twitch and shiver.

"Untie me," Legolas said, "let me touch you." Propped against the bedstead, he pulled at the bonds securing his wrists to the ironwork and could easily have torn free, for they were of silk instead of hithlain, but in truth he liked this game and Elladan seemed to need the extra stimulus to become aroused enough to satisfy him. His need seemed ever to be growing while Elladan's was slowly waning with every passing day.

"No." Elladan had no intention of letting Legolas free, for no sooner were those hands loosed than the Wood Elf would use them to coax him into unbridled frenzy. Then their love-making would end too soon and Elladan wanted it to last, for here he found the only comfort left to him in Elrohir's absence. Besides, Legolas had become insatiable of late and it was easier to give him the pleasure he craved if Elladan kept him captive and toyed with him until neither of them could bear it anymore. Sometimes, that took hours, for he realised with sadness that while his interest was not diminished, his ability to gratify it was.

Legolas playfully kicked at Elladan, aiming for the great maroon organ between his powerful thighs and as expected, this attempt at assault earned him a penalty.

"Wicked imp," hissed Elladan. He sat up and fingered the golden studs piercing the sylvan's nipples. "You know better than to try such tricks with me." The sylvan elf arched into the contact and Elladan pulled hard, eliciting a gasp. Then he let go and lifted Legolas at the rear, abruptly thrusting his cock fully inside the tender, wet opening, seeking and finding the deeply buried prostate. Again and again he rammed into it, knowing Legolas would not come, for a mithril ring surrounded his rigid shaft to prevent just that very thing. When he had the archer almost in tears of frustrated ecstasy, Elladan stopped and withdrew, panting after the effort expended, and rested his forehead on Legolas' shoulder.

"Ai, Elladan, saes, give me release. I am in agony," pleaded Legolas. He leaned his cheek against the crown of ebony hair, listening to the laboured breathing and feeling the sweat that matted the black locks. His heart skipped; Elladan was exhausted and it seemed he would fall asleep ere either one had reached his peak. Legolas sighed and turned to kiss the tresses, longing to gather Elladan close, for he was depleting himself on the child's behalf, even though his own light was now but half its normal magnitude. "It is well, untie me now. We have pushed the game too far."

"What?" Elladan stirred, realising he'd drifted into reverie, and blushed in embarrassment. "Ai Valar, what you must think."

"I think you are noble and brave, but I want you to live. The babe needs his father, Elladan, and there is none to play that part but you."

Elladan said nothing to this as he complied, loosening the silken bonds and drawing Legolas into his embrace. With the warm body so close, he felt his desire stirring again and hummed in contentment, pressing his rejuvenated erection against the lithe figure as he rolled atop Legolas. With perfect ease his penis found its way inside the warm confines and he began rocking, revelling as lean legs wrapped around his waist and drew him close, pressing kisses upon the neck and shoulders beneath his face.

"Is this all right?" he whispered, groaning as the friction caressed his cock. He bent to taste the Wood Elf's mouth again and found it sweet and inviting, the teasing tongue darting around his to dab at the roof of his mouth. He withdrew and found Legolas' eyes upon him, alight with affection and desire, and his pace increased of its own accord. "Will it be all right for you, like this?" he asked again.

"'Tis glorious," warbled Legolas, shutting his eyes as another glaring scintillation of stars blinded his vision for a second. "Yet, you left me restrained where I most need to be freed. Could you…?"

Elladan mumbled an obscene oath and pulled out, red-faced again as he hastened to remove the constraint encircling the archer's engorged organ. A soft sigh escaped Legolas and the long legs drew up at the knees and fell wide to either side, offering Elladan whatever might please him best. The archer's primed penis excreted a huge swollen bead of clear fluid and Elladan lapped it up before it could crest the slit and dribble down the slender red cock. That made Legolas jump and Elladan grinned up at him, tasting the sensitive glans again and rubbing his tongue across the weeping orifice vigourously. He could make Legolas come like this, had done so before, and afterwards plunged his cock inside and taken his pleasure in one, or sometimes both, openings.

That was what he would do today and he fell to suckling the aroused shaft with as much force as he could, rolling the testicles between his fingers as Legolas bucked and flexed his hips to increase the sensation.

"Inside!" he gasped, but Elladan would not obey and in no time Legolas felt his orgasm overtake him, the swift rush of seminal fluid quickly consumed by the Noldorin Lord's aggressive tongue. He lay panting and heaving in the radiant afterglow of the exhilarating experience when suddenly his rear was lifted up and the blunt tip of Elladan's erection breached his anus, pushing in deep to the accompaniment of a low, feral growl. He focused on dark grey eyes animated with the intensity of a summer storm and smiled. "Have me then, meleth."

Elladan burst into action, pumping deep and hard into the strong resistance, finding his energy escalating as he gave himself to the pleasure of possessing Legolas this way. It was almost too good and he refused to consider why it pleased him so to satisfy himself in a manner that denied the Wood Elf any physical enjoyment and generally left him sore and cranky. His pace increased and he watched spellbound as Legolas' fingers teased his own nipples and stroked his enflamed ears. A dark growl left Elladan and he stopped, pulling out and grabbing the wandering fingers. Hastily he bound Legolas to the bedstead again and then paused, breathing hard as he tweaked first one nipple and then its twin, grinning when Legolas shivered under the touch. He did the same to the ears, lavishing each with long wet strokes of his tongue that had the sylvan's heart pounding and the lax penis filling up again.

Then an idea came over him and he acted on it, bringing the image to reality with one quick lift and turn. A surprised exclamation left Legolas and Elladan chuckled.

"Weren't expecting that, were you?" he said, surveying the bound figure with satisfaction.

On his knees, Legolas now faced the headboard, arms crossed, chin pushed up against them, chest pressed against the wrought iron whorls and swirls of leaves and vines worked into the artistic filigree of the metal. His cock was caught betwixt his body and the cold iron, his wet nipples poking through the open work as the cool air wafted over them. Elladan was not done, however, and rose from the bed, pulling it out a few feet so that he could pass between the wall and the bedstead. Then he reached through the openings and found the archer's rigid shaft, massaging and stroking the flesh even as he suckled the exposed nipples, tugging and yanking until he had forced the cock through one of the metal work curlicues. He stood back, then, hands on hips, pleased with the effect so far.

"Elladan," Legolas said, not entirely enthusiastic, for his neck was bent at an awkward angle and he could not look at his mate. The sensation of having his penis thrust through the ironwork was exciting, and the fact that he was at Elladan's mercy was even more thrilling, but he wanted to see what was happening as well as feel it.

"Quiet," ordered Elladan and leaned in to bite a tender red node where it peeped out of a collection of frozen black tendrils. After that, he had to do the same to the other and enjoyed the tense ripple that coursed through Legolas' muscles in response. Then he left to retrieve the golden chains and clamps from a drawer, for he had discovered that Legolas had packed many of his toys and brought them with him to Greenwood. He carried the long string of glittering metal back to the bed and threaded it through the metalwork.

"What are you doing?" asked Legolas, hearing the soft clatter of the chains, but the next instant he knew, for a tight pincer clamped over each of his nipples, a sharp tug confirming the fit was tight and secure, and he wailed. Then the bonds at his wrists were loosened and reversed so that they were no longer awkwardly crossed beneath his chin and he could see. He was chained to the bed at the nipples, the flesh drawn taut where the clamps passed through the filigree and joined the golden links. His cock was jutting through a loop of iron, held almost perpendicular to his body and the sensation of the cold metal made him grow harder, which in turn increased the pressure on his flesh.

Experimentally, he tried to pull back and slide his penis out of the ironwork, but at once the clamps seized him with a powerful grip and he gasped, the tender nipples flaring with pain and a jolt of pleasure that made him shudder. The vibration reached his cock and it twitched in the confining metal. Legolas groaned and pressed his forehead against the bedstead.

"Now this is what I have been missing," said Elladan, reaching out to stimulate the pinnacle of Legolas' cock and testing the chains so that the red flesh caught in the clamps was stretched and then released. That wrung a desperate cry from the Wood Elf and so Elladan repeated the manoeuvre, watching in fascination as Legolas writhed in the turmoil of pain and pleasure. He was eager to see what would happen when he began fucking the elf and hastened to resume his place on the bed, crouching close and pressing his erection against the parted cheeks, fingering the double holes.

There was not really any question which he would choose and buried his cock to the balls in the cramped confines of the anal canal, lunging rhythmically to achieve his purpose, hands gripping Legolas at the waist, so to minimise the jarring his tenderest flesh would receive. The archer's cock, however, was drawn back and forth within the metal loop and this Elladan could see, peering over the Wood Elf's shoulder to watch the long slender shaft stabbing through the opening, effectively fucking the furniture. The skin was growing bright red as the surface of the metal abraded it and this excited him; he increased his pace and the force with which he pounded into Legolas' arse.

His design was not to be cruel and he would have Legolas know pleasure along with the pain. Just before he gave in to the exultant culmination of this act, Elladan withdrew one last time and plunged full force into the second opening, angling Legolas slightly toward him and thus pulling his torso out from the headboard just enough to raise a plaintive cry of agony and ecstasy combined. That made his heart soar, for it was ever a challenge to coax any vocal signs of delight from Legolas. He lunged harder, pressing Legolas into the bedstead and roughly pulling him back with each motion, making sure he struck the interior gland with every thrust, ramming the archer's cock through the metal filigree.

Elladan reached for the organ so ruggedly treated and squeezed it, milking a trickle of slick fluid from the tip which was quickly smeared the length of the cock, easing the abrasive friction considerably. It was then he felt Legolas shudder and heard another trilling cry and Elladan gave in, letting his seed speed from his cock in glorious release as he crowded in close atop the archer, pelvis pivoting and loins pumping to expel every drop, and settled his teeth into the muscle of the archer's shoulder. He left a dark maroon imprint of his incisors and then rested against the sturdy back, smiling even as he struggled to gather sufficient air to remain conscious.

At last he could think again and realised that Legolas was hanging onto the bedstead with rigid fingers, his body tense and trembling, for the implements of their torturous desires still bound him thus. Elladan hastened to loosen the bonds at his wrists and then the tight clamps from his nipples and finally drew the relaxed penis back through the metal loop. There was a slight smear of blood where the delicate skin had broken during its rough intercourse with the headboard and some bruising at the base of the organ. Carefully Elladan turned Legolas onto his back and settled him gently into the downy covers, drawing him into a strong embrace and smothering his cheeks with kisses.

"Not too much, was it?" he asked, for the sight of Legolas' blood always upset him after the fact.

"Nay, I would have told you at the beginning if it was," said Legolas. "I will be sore for a time, nothing more."

Legolas didn't mind the battering his body took during their love-making for this was how he'd been trained to experience pleasure. Elladan was less harsh than his brother and never let his torments become degrading, mocking and scorning Legolas for enjoying what they shared, as Elrond used to do. He yawned and snuggled into Elladan's arms, resting his ear against the broad firm chest and listening to the powerful beat of his heart. He fell asleep like that, drifting into reverie that was deep and restful. Thus, he missed the soft knock upon the door and the quiet voice of Aragorn calling Elladan into the sitting room.

"How is he today?" he asked, scrutinising his foster-brother keenly. "And how are you faring, Muindor? You do not look well to me."

"I am as well as can be expected, Estel," said Elladan, wrapping a loose robe about his weary frame as he came forth, a rueful smile upon his lips. "Legolas is not so fit as he would like me to imagine, either. He grieves for Adar and tries to hide it, but everyone knows he gave over his heart to Elrond. He is fading from a broken heart; I am fading for the same cause. I have already spoken to King Thranduil and he will raise the child as his own should the worst happen."

"That could not have been an easy conversation," sympathised Aragorn, pressing Elladan to sit and handing him a flask of Miruvor.

"Ai! The pain in his eyes was terrible! Estel, he is being forced to witness his son's withering demise while he watches and can do nothing. It tears at my heart, Muindor, and makes me worry for the other babe the new year will welcome. What if Thranduil and his Lady-wife cannot support them both? I cannot even bear to look upon her, she is so sad, yet she comes often to our rooms to be with Legolas or asks us to spend the day with her that she might have him close for whatever time they have. They are already grieving for the loss of Legolas; everyone is grieving."

"You've had no word from Elrond or Elrohir?"

"Nay, nor do I expect it after so long a time. How could they so easily abandon us?" Elladan's face was stricken with the hurt and sorrow this realisation brought him and he looked to his distant kinsman for an answer that would ease his distress. Expecting none, his senses jolted in surprise when Aragorn gripped him at the shoulder and squeezed, a bright light gleaming in his eyes.

"There is still hope," he said. "King Thranduil has bid me fetch you to his study. There is no need to clean up or dress; just go, Elladan!" he exclaimed, a huge grin breaking out over his features.

For a second Elladan only gaped up at him and then he returned the smile, bolting from the chair and racing away down the passageways of the underground fortress, robe flapping and revealing rather more perhaps than he would normally wish, not daring to call out the name within his heart. He didn't pause to knock, barging into the King's study and skidding to an abrupt halt, his lungs drawing in an audible gasp as the scene met his eyes.

There on the floor before the hearth knelt his father, head bowed low and robes tattered and rent, hair bedraggled and knotted, his person dirty and dishevelled as it had never been in all the Ages of his long life, for this was not the careworn state of a warrior after heated battle nor the frayed and ragged aftermath of a wayfarer after a journey long and rigourous. Elrond's very soul was threadbare and rapidly going to utter ruin. Towering over him stood the Elven King, his Winter Queen beside him, bent low to hear the words the deprecated Lord was speaking, the once firm and forceful voice reduced to whispers and rasping.

"…whatever penalty you deem meet, I will not account it too great to bear if only I might see him. Let me at least have that grace, to beg forgiveness before my soul passes to Mandos to endure the purifying heat of Námo's wrath."

"Adar!" cried Elladan, and fell to his knees beside his father. "What does this mean? Have you suffered so terribly and yet kept apart? Why?"

"Elladan, ionen, my heart is lighter to see you again," said Elrond, smiling as his eldest enclosed him in a strong embrace. "How is he?"

"Legolas is losing ground daily, as I said," spoke Thranduil, but his voice was not harsh nor grating with anger. Rather, there was intense sorrow in the tones and his hand clutched tightly to his wife's and drew her close.

"And the child, my little babe?" whispered Elrond, eyes imploring his son for some hint of hope.

"The child is well and strong, according to Aragorn," advised Elladan. "Legolas will not permit any woe to reach him, verily surrounding the unborn babe in walls of love and joy. The babe will live on, though it is unlikely Legolas will be there to see him grow. I have learned from Legolas' naneth that a male life-bearer generally has a more difficult time delivering the child at birth, and for Legolas this will be exaggerated as he is weakened already.

"But you are here! Surely this will bolster his courage and determination, for I know he longs to be the one to raise this child and fights against the dragging weight of the grieving sickness. Why do you tarry in the study of the King? Come! I will take you to him and once reunited there is then nothing left to fear." Elladan rose and heaved his father up to his feet, urging him to move, but Elrond resisted.

"Wait, Elladan," said the Winter Queen. "We want what you propose also, but only if it is Legolas' desire. We asked you here to question you plainly about the bond the two of you share. Can you not supply the need for his heart's ease, and he for yours?" The elegant Lady of Greenwood surveyed the elder Twin's eyes and sifted his faltering aura through the fingers of her inner sight. A sigh left her, filled with sadness for she perceived the answer already and was not certain Elrond could save her son's life, so long had he waited to come to Greenwood and claim his heart's desire.

"Nay, Lady-queen," Elladan shook his head. "Legolas loves me and I him, but it is not the love of eternal mates. Each of us is more staunchly bound to someone else, and only that person might stay the devastation crippling our spirits."

"Now do you believe, Elven Lord?" demanded Thranduil. "Your son is gallant and true-hearted, but he is not the one who can help Legolas. You it has always been who holds my son's heart. I will ask you again: Will you bind yourself to my second son, Legolas of Greenwood, whom you have got with child, or betray his trust?"

Elrond clutched at Elladan for support, eyes locked on the face of the distraught father, mouth dry and heart pounding. "Is this possible?" he whispered, shifting his sight to take in the pained expression darkening the fair Queen's features. "Have you not already bound him over to Elladan?"

"Aye, we did so to forestall his ruin, for I will bear the child he thought to create and now his heart is burdened with fear over what will become of his faer 'wain dithen (new little soul)," explained the Queen.

"And it is not unusual for an elf to be bound to more than one mate in such cases as these. Oft times, a bond of last resort must be enjoined between elves already mated but not to one another, for such are the chances of fate and war and the dark times in which we live," added Thranduil. "The bond to Elladan will remain, but what Legolas' soul craves is union with yours. The separation has been hard on you as well, I judge."

"It has." Elrond's voice trembled over the simple answer and a sheen of unshed tears magnified the anguish visible in his grey gaze.

"Well, then," prompted Elladan gently, "what is your answer, Adar?"

Then Elrond straightened his stooping back and stood tall, a light of hope filling his features and a smile hovering near his lips as he turned to the Elven King. "I would be honoured to claim your second son, Legolas of Greenwood, as my eternal mate and marry him to me as custom allows and the Valar demand," he announced boldly, and then added, "If he will yet have me."

"Eglerio Elbereth," whispered the Queen and found she had to sit down, the strain more than she had thought and the relief too much to endure on her feet. Thranduil hugged her tight and made no secret of the tears of joy he shed into her ebony hair.

"He will have you," laughed Elladan, "though mayhap you should let some time pass before you attempt to have him!" He tugged again to force his father into motion, eager to effect this reunion and know that Legolas would not be lost nor the babe bereft of his parents. His own fate he counted as little and it was in his mind to try and make the crossing ere his strength expired utterly.

"Wait!" called Thranduil, sharing a radiant glance with his wife, and barred their way. "Aragorn is seeing to Legolas and will bring him to the guest rooms we have set aside for your kin, Elladan. Galion will make certain your Adar finds his way there and has opportunity to bathe and change his ragged raiment before meeting with Legolas. As for you, there is another in your father's party who refused to set foot within my halls. Why do you not go out and make him change his mind? He waits in the courtyard to learn the result of Elrond's desperate bid for forgiveness and salvation."

Now Elladan looked to his father for confirmation and found it, though the expression was not one of joy but dark foreboding.

"It is Elrohir," said Elrond, "and he means to die, thinking the sacrifice of his life is the only deed that would balance the evil he has done."

"Elrohir has come?" asked Elladan, hardly daring to believe it, but he did not wait for the answer, racing away again, calling his brother's name as he ran.

Out in the courtyard he found him, kneeling in the dirt and all but stripped of garments, for he wore only a shabby and much abused pair of leggings. No shoes or boots protected his feet and his back was bare, and the sight of it made Elladan cry out in alarm, for it was criss-crossed with overlapping stripes of red and black and blue. His glossy black mane was dull and cropped short above his shoulders, the strands making a thick curtain to shield his downcast face from view, and his arms were bound at the wrists before him. Slowly he raised his head and looked upon his brother even as Elladan fell to the ground beside him and wrapped him sobbing in his arms.

"Elrohir," he whispered again and again, "why did you wait so long? Who has done this to you?"

"Muindor, I feared to come and couldn't face you after the things I said, nor could I come to King Thranduil's lands in peace, the one who most abused his son. It is just for me to suffer as Legolas ordained. Nothing I can say will remove the burden from me, but it is good to see you," said Elrohir morosely.

"Nothing you can say, perhaps, but Legolas has words you will wish to hear. He has forgiven you, Muindor, long ago, and regrets the doom he placed upon you. It is a burden of guilt upon his heart and Elbereth knows he needs no more of those. Everyday that dawns he exhorts me to go and seek for you, to bring you back here to share in our bond once again. Did…did Adar raise these welts in your flesh?"

"Nay, this I did to myself, for Adar could not stand to punish me even when I most deserved it," said Elrohir, weeping as he clung to his brother, unable to fathom that he could really be absolved of such horrible crimes and reunited with Elladan.

"Ai! That is terrible to hear," wailed Elladan. "Yet it is over now, Muindor. Adar will at last claim his sylvan mate and wed him as he should have done long ago. King Thranduil has bade me bring you into the welcome of his halls, for all is forgiven and he looks on us as family."

Then he lifted Elrohir up and helped him inside the stronghold, and Galion took them to rooms where the elder twin could tend to the hurts of the younger, and where their severed souls could be reunited in privacy.



Part Seven
Aragorn gazed upon the sleeping sylvan prince, a kind and gentle smile upon his face for Legolas was especially endearing in reverie, when all his guards were down and all the pain of his innocent heart lay exposed to view.

He rested on his side curled up around his protruding belly, one hand protectively wrapped over the swell, the other tucked up under his chin as if not so very long ago he'd been wont to sample the thumb of that hand for comfort in his dreams. His golden hair was splayed about in wild disarray and the covers were haphazardly strewn across his naked body, covering little and permitting Aragorn to see the golden studs that pierced his nipples. The tender flesh was so swollen and red that he needed no imagination to reconstruct the erotic nature of the activities which had drained Legolas' energy and caused so deep a slumber. Besides, the room wreaked of the lovers' combined ejaculate and the shining chains lay pooled upon the floor, one side still dangling from the bed frame, while the black silk restraints stood out starkly on the soft white sheets.

Why the bed was so far from the wall, Aragorn really did not want to think about too deeply. The rough nature of the couple's bed-sport was no secret to him, for both trusted him implicitly, yet it was still not a subject he preferred to envision. Elladan had confided just a week ago, when Aragorn chastised him gently about the marks that never seemed to leave Legolas' body, that his penchant for inflicting pain had arisen after Celebrian's departure. The elder son blamed himself both for her initial capture and the ensuing tortures inflicted upon her, and for the fact that she could not find strength enough to remain among her loved ones. This Elladan attributed to failure on his part to assure her of his continuing love and devotion; instead, fearing her recriminating words of blame, he had avoided his Naneth through her lengthy recovery.

Someone had to be punished, insisted the elder twin, preferably him. Elrohir had been happy to oblige, but Legolas was unwilling to inflict the same erotic chastisement, so Elladan did it to his sylvan mate instead.

As for Legolas, what the twins and Elrond had taught him was all he knew of intimacy, for he had been untouched until the day the trio claimed him on the wasted plains of Eregion. An involuntary shudder rippled through Aragorn, thinking on what that must have been like for the sylvan archer. What horrendous fear and agony must have accompanied the loss of his virginity. Was it any wonder he equated pain with the delights of the flesh? Aragorn shook his head with a sigh; there was no fixing this now.

By then the Man was right beside the bed and still the prince's blue eyes drifted in faraway places, half-lidded, tracking slowly to and fro but never seeming to catch sight of him. The ruby lips were slightly parted and Legolas' respiration was deep and steady. That was gratifying and Aragorn nodded, pleased that he was resting so well. He hated to have to wake him but the reunion that awaited Legolas was sure to bring joy to his ailing heart. Still, Lord Elrond had been in poor condition and would need time to recuperate and set his appearance to rights. It would not hurt to let Legolas dream for a little while longer, and so Aragorn retired to the bathing chamber, there to ready all that was needed to create a soothing and ameliorative soak in the huge marble basin.

That done, he settled down beside the desk to wait, finding there a much crossed over and ink-blurred list of names. He grinned, running his eye down the roster, chuckling over some of the unlikely combinations of Nandorin and Sindarin and Quenya. A faint stirring caught his notice, followed as it was by a soft groan of misery, and he approached the bed. Legolas had rolled to his back and stretched, the motion irritating the sore flesh making him awaken immediately. The Man frowned, seeing now the scratched and abraded skin of the lax penis; that was not something his brother had done to Legolas before and Aragorn was at a loss as to how he had brought it about. Legolas blinked at him a few times and he offered a smile.

"At last you awaken, lazy one! How are you feeling?" he asked, running another critical and disapproving eye over the dark maroon nipples jutting up from the firm pectoral muscles. So inflamed were the nodes that it hurt Aragorn just to look at them.

"It is rude to stare, even if you are now an official Healer to the Royal House of Oropher," chided Legolas. "If Elladan catches you doing it, he will pummel you into dust. He is very jealous."

"Ai! My interest is purely clinical and you know it," exclaimed the Man. He leaned low and gently pressed upon the round abdomen, watching Legolas intently for signs of discomfort, glad to note none. "Any movement yet?"

"Nay," sighed Legolas. "You are sure he's all right in there?" He propped himself up on his elbow and caressed the curve lovingly, unconsciously crooning out a soft little trilling cry to the child.

"Aye, the babe's heartbeat is strong; surely you can feel it," Aragorn reassured.

"Yes, I feel and hear it, otherwise I would be frantic with dread." He raised himself with another faint groan and sat on the edge of the bed, legs parted to prevent placing any pressure on the injured organ, which he touched with hesitant delicacy. A soft hiss escaped him and he lifted smarting eyes to find Aragorn scowling with disapproving concern. "Do not ask."

"I wasn't going to," answered Aragorn, brows and nose wrinkling with distaste. "Come, can you rise or shall I aid you? I want you to take a good long soak in some healing herbs before you leave this room."

"Leave the room? That would involve putting on clothes and right now I have no wish for anything to rub against certain regions of my body," Legolas complained, pushing himself upright without help. He shuffled with ginger steps toward the bathing chamber, ignoring Aragorn's aggrieved sigh. "But a long soak sounds lovely; thank you."

He made it to the chamber and waited in patient anticipation for the warm water to fill the tub, inhaling the invigorating scent of the herbs and oils the Man added to the foaming water. Just the smell of the fragrant steam was relaxing and Legolas felt better just standing there. When at last he climbed awkwardly in and settled full length in the water, he exhaled a satisfied sigh and closed his eyes with a smile.

"Perfect," he murmured, though his nipples were throbbing as the water lapped them and his nether regions burned under the healing influence of the medicinal soup. He raised himself slightly to lift his chest further above the water line and eyed the reddened skin warily. The golden studs piercing the flesh were pressed deep into the swollen teats and he wished more than anything he could get them out. That would probably hurt more than he was willing to endure just at the moment, however, and so he sighed and resigned himself to the discomfort.

"It would be best if you let the water do its work," suggested Aragorn, meeting the blue eyes plainly. Legolas was not shy about discussing these issues, to a point. "And better yet to remove those and leave them out for a while."

"Nay, I am not touching them, would be worse," countered Legolas. He scooted back down until the water was almost to his chin, gritting his teeth against the sudden flare of spiking heat arising from his chest.

"As you wish, Ernilen," Aragorn answered with half a bow and exaggerated formality. "I am but the lowly healer who cares for your royal well-being; no need to heed my advice."

Legolas grinned and flicked a handful of water at him. "I will heed it when you have advice fit to follow."

"I will hold you to that," smiled Aragorn. "Now relax and I will see what I can find for you to wear that will not abrade your tender tits nor exacerbate your many pleasure-wounds." He was already moving toward the door and thus missed the wide-eyed look of shocked amusement, complete with arched brows and open mouth, Legolas trained upon his back.

Yet his curiosity was awakened, for generally Aragorn pestered him to rest more, to stay off the training fields and stop sparring with Elladan, to take long walks on the ground and less treks amid the limbs of the trees, and definitely never prompted him to be involved in any social activities after he and Elladan had been 'sparring' privately.

"Why are you so eager to get me out of my apartment? And where is Elladan?" he called.

"Guests have arrived and your parents expect you to be there to greet them. Elladan was on his way to a meeting in your Adar's study when last I saw him. No doubt you will see him later at the feast."

"Feast? These must be important guests indeed."

"I would think so; Mithrandir vouches for them and it was he who guaranteed their conduct and won through the vigilant border guards." Aragorn reappeared in the doorway. "I have chosen the blue robes and cream coloured satin leggings for you. A tunic and shirt are not recommended but I think a soft silk undershirt would ease the discomfort."

"You are not my valet, Aragorn, and thus the more do I thank you, but I wonder if your sense of sylvan fashion is sufficiently refined to choose appropriate garb for an official presentation of a prince of the realm."

"You cannot be serious," scoffed Aragorn. "Between the two of us, you are the one who prefers hunting clothes or warrior's togs. I dress for every meal while you slouch in to table wearing whatever clothing you donned that morning, stained and grubby though it generally has become. Legolas, you are the only elf I know who is almost always a mess."

"That is not true," huffed Legolas. "I know how to dress but for private family meals it isn't necessary. My parents would rather know I am comfortable than insist on protocol."

"Perhaps, yet oft times I have seen your Naneth sigh in dismay to see you come through the door trailing leaves and vines and dirt in your wake. It would not hurt you to indulge her wish to see her son present himself as the prince he is."

Legolas stared at the Man, wondering if this could really be true, and decided to make the effort for his mother's sake. She had suffered many hardships of the heart and soul of late, and his consideration might soothe her and give her cause to smile more readily.

"What can you tell me of the guests; have you seen them?"

"I have and they are noble people who in recent times have fallen into hardship," answered Aragorn cautiously. The fact that Elrond was in the stronghold was meant to be a surprise and he was loathe to spoil it for Legolas. "They have journeyed here to beg of your father a boon. He will not grant it without your input, thus I was sent to learn how you fare today and whether your strength supports a public appearance." He paused and evaluated Legolas keenly, for Elladan used him roughly and generally the Wood Elf did not like to venture forth afterwards. "Does it?"

"Aye, since it seems so important to Ada," he sighed. "I will not have to sit in council with them, will I? Surely Aras can manage to fill that role."

"Indeed, he can if you decide to limit your exposure."

"I want Elladan near," said Legolas, brow wrinkling in anxiety, for he was used to having the elder twin always beside him, especially after they had indulged their passions so heartily. Usually it was Elladan who ran his bath and fetched his clothes and made sure he ate a full meal.

"I will send word to him," assured Aragorn and sat beside the tub. "Your hair is terrible, Legolas. When last did you wash it?" The Man leaned close and plucked a leaf from the tangled golden locks and held it up before the sylvan's eyes as evidence.

"Ai! Elladan washed it for me just yesterday," he defended himself but could not prevent the flush of rose that stained his cheeks. The leaves and twigs clinging to him were due to what Elladan had done after the washing, out doors in their favourite green glade.

"Ah," Aragorn smirked, understanding coming to him as the colour rose in the Wood Elf's fair countenance. "Elladan's claim is no boast then."

"What claim?" Legolas demanded, sitting up so fast the water sloshed over the rim of the basin. "He speaks of private things that pass between us?"

His voice and eyes gave away the hurt this idea aroused and Aragorn was immediately sorry he'd opened his mouth. "Nay, nay!" he assured. "I exaggerated only to jest with you. He says you are insatiable and he is hard pressed to keep your hunger in check, nothing more."

"Oh."

Legolas was not much appeased by this answer and found he was no longer content to remain in the tub, getting out and stalking from the bathing chamber to towel off and dress. There the golden chains and the odd position of the bed met his gaze and he frowned, kicking the metal links under the bed as he passed. He dressed and combed out his hair in silence and for the most part ignored Aragorn, his relaxed mood replaced with a nagging undercurrent of irritation and a vague sense of betrayal. He did not want his private life with Elladan discussed with Aragorn, though he often confided in the Man about other things. Of course, Elladan needed someone to talk to as well, he knew, and considered Aragorn a brother, but this did not make the idea any less provoking.

The Man had wisely left him alone and waited in the sitting room. He said nothing when Legolas appeared, elegantly attired and looking every inch the royal son he was, and Aragorn bowed solemnly. To this he received a curt nod but it was not something the Man interpreted as a reprimand, for he had noticed the rapid changes in mood to which the pregnant elf was prone. Calling attention to that would only make the situation more volatile and Aragorn had learned that Legolas had an explosive temper once he was teased or tested beyond a certain point. He led the way down the halls and into the guest wing, which Legolas at once noted.

"Are we not to meet these guests in Thamas-en-Gûr?" (Hall of Council) he demanded, balking at the stairs that reached up into the turning of the next corridor. "And where is Elladan? You had plenty of time to send for him while I dressed. I will not go on without him here." He folded his arms over his chest, blanched at the sharp snap of pain this generated, and hastily settled them back at his sides, a veritable flood of scarlet blooming and then fading rapidly.

"Forgive me that oversight," said Aragorn, another respectful dip of the head, "but your father thought you would rather meet this particular guest alone."

Now Legolas' ire blazed to full intensity and he advanced a pace, poking his index finger sharply against the Man's chest. "You said nothing to me about that," he accused, "and the reason is clear: I must know this guest by name and you will speak it now, else I will return to my rooms and whoever this person is can petition me directly. Is it Elrohir? Is that why Elladan has abandoned me?" Saying these words took more of his strength than he realised, for the fear of being deserted ran ever in his thoughts, and though he had often exhorted Elladan to go and find his brother, in truth Legolas feared to be left alone, for without Elladan's support he doubted he could protect his child from the sorrow sickness plaguing them all.

"Yes, Elrohir is here in Greenwood," Aragorn answered, knowing better than to lie to Legolas, the one error he would not forgive. "Elladan has not abandoned you; truly he does not know you want him beside you right now, for I did not send him word of your request."

"He should not have to be summoned," Legolas seethed. "Is he not my mate?" He raised his right hand and angrily twisted the golden band from his index finger, holding it up before Aragorn's eyes. "Is this not his ring? Does our child mean so little that he runs to his brother without even telling me Elrohir has arrived?"

By this point the volume of his voice had risen and his pitch was shrill and filled with fury. The corridor echoed with his anger and drew the King and Queen. Thranduil stood aghast as Legolas proceeded to rail against his absent mate and Rhûn'waew tried in vain to soothe their son.

"I tell you I will not abide this!" he shouted. "I am going back to our rooms. Nay, I am going to my own rooms and Elladan can ask where those are if he remembers to whom he is wedded." In anguish he turned on his mother. "How could you do this? You made Aragorn send for me, arraying me in finery as though I would court a suitor, only to beg the company of Elrohir and Elladan. I did not ask them to get involved and at their own choosing did they try to steal me from their father and even from one another. Is it not enough that Elrond rejected me that now I must face the loss of Elladan as well?"

"No, Legolas, I would not make you bear that shame," insisted Thranduil.

"Nor has Elrond rejected you, though he is stubborn and arrogant and wholly unworthy to claim the heart of Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Greenwood."

The voice speaking that rebuttal was such that Legolas gasped aloud, turning swiftly to verify the truth his ears revealed. There indeed stood the Elven Lord, his face careworn and drawn in lines of despair and remorse. His ebony hair was bound in the braids worn by warriors of the House of Oropher, unadorned beyond a thin band of woven mithril ribbons pressed over his brow. Dressed in fine velvet robes of midnight blue, the elegant attire could not hide the degree to which sorrow had eroded his robust vigour. Despite his hollowed cheeks and wasted frame, his eyes were lit with bright hope and an emotion Legolas had only faintly perceived there.

"Liar." The word escaped before the Wood Elf could arrest it, the syllables packed with recrimination and all the hurt confined within his forlorn and forsaken heart. Hearing it, Elrond came forward and cast himself upon his face at Legolas' feet.

"Forgive me, for thy charge is just. I did renounce you and little cause have you to hear my words or bear the sight of me, yet I had to come," said he. "Now I would beg your indulgence not for myself but for you and for the sake of the child you carry, for while my mind turned away my heart has never been anything less than enslaved by yours. Once I abhorred the idea of such bondage, yet now I understand what a gift the Valar granted me in leading me through Eregion that day. This long separation has taught me well how much my soul is entwined with yours. I would not now spurn the love you hold for me, if in fact your heart still yearns for mine."

Then he fell silent and Legolas stared at the figure stretched prostrate on the floor, uncertain what to do or how to answer such words. Into the void Thranduil ventured cautiously.

"Ionen, here are matters that demand much consideration. Would it not be better to listen to the pleas of this, your mate, in privacy?" he asked.

Legolas raised his eyes to his father, stunned confusion and anger and hurt and hope all swirling within them, seeking in his Ada's face some sign that this was really happening and it was right for him to entertain that which his heart most desired, for he was wedded now to Elrond's son. He must have found the permission he needed for abruptly Legolas turned and stepped over the huddled body barring his way, moving off down the corridor in the same direction Aragorn had led him.

"Get up, then, Elrond of Imladris, and I will deign to hear your words, for the sake of my child," he said as he went, the voice wavering in emotion though the tone was still fraught with anger and pain. Not lightly would Legolas relent, for not easily had he endured the years of his bondage, and listening to the noble Lord describe these scant few months apart as though they were the same was not acceptable.

Elrond did not have to be told twice and with Aragorn's help got to his feet and trotted after the departing prince, worried and not a small amount fearful, for this elf he did not know. The shy and silent sylvan he had kept as his pet, a toy for his pleasure and delight, was no more.

At the end of the hall a door stood open and into it Legolas swept, finding himself in one of the best guest rooms in the stronghold. The fire was lit in the hearth and while he was not cold Legolas gravitated to it, stalling by the ornate screen and gazing at the leaping flames, yet his eyes saw instead scenes from the long years of his debasement. Elrond stood behind him and waited, quiet and even submissive in manner, an attitude Legolas had never imagined him capable of projecting, and he knew not how to address this person nor what his role was now. Should he demand recompense and punish the mighty lore-master or open his heart and forgive all, forgetting the agony and anguish his suffering soul had borne?

"I know not what to say," he began, having no other notion of how to start. "I counted you gone from my life forever. I determined that my heart and soul were mistaken, that yours never felt toward me what I thought I sensed."

"That is understandable," Elrond answered quietly, taking a tentative step closer. Legolas looked so forlorn and bereft, so confused and lost, that he longed to gather him in his arms and comfort him. This was not the time, however, and he remained two paces away from the sylvan prince. "I never gave you cause to believe I felt anything for you beyond possessive lust. In truth, I could not admit to myself that my heart was engaged. I believed the son of Eärendil above you in stature and grace. That you permit me to come and unburden my heart, even after the things I did and said, proves the virtuous character of the son of Thranduil. Thus it is revealed how the honour and dignity of a sylvan archer exceeds that of a Noldorin Lord."

"Words," sighed Legolas. "What do they mean? I don't want pretty compliments and ingratiating accolades. What has happened between us is far too grave for that." He chanced a glance at the serious countenance and found grey eyes filled with remorse and regret.

"That is true, nor would I insult you by pretending otherwise." The healer's eyes drifted briefly to the gentle curve of Legolas' middle. "I will not attempt to win you with fawning and flattery but with real proof of my feelings." Elrond took another step closer. "Whatever is required, I will accomplish it. Though it takes ten years of gruelling labour, I will validate my claim upon you if you would but grant me the opportunity."

"I have a mate now," spoke Legolas proudly and held forth his hand whereon the golden band was once more set. "Elladan was willing to provide for me whatever he could, even though his soul is really owned by his brother, even though by doing so he might perish. You, Elrond, were content to watch me go, and my child with me, to a fate fully revealed to so gifted a healer. You were willing to let him follow, taking the role I desired for you to fill. Now you come to Greenwood and would fain have me accept a suit so paltry? You are arrogant indeed, and proud, but the son of Thranduil is not a concubine you may have or ignore as you please, though you treated me so."

"No," Elrond nodded agreement, smiling as his eye travelled over the dignity and grace of the golden elf before him, "he is not. You are wedded to my son, that I cannot change and ever more will I regret the day I let him usurp that place which was mine, not by any right of my own to claim it, but by virtue of the genuine heart which offered it to me: yours. Yet your Adar says that you may be wedded to him and still accept me as your mate. Such conditions have been seen in Greenwood before."

"So they have yet in such cases there is love abiding between at least two of the parties. For me, there are three who claimed me and none who want me, or if so then not with warmth and tenderness, and lust is a poor substitute to a soul already starved for love."

"There is love between you and Elladan; I have seen it in his eyes and I hear it in your words. Upon finding me within the King's stronghold, he would have struck me senseless on sight save that he respects his Adar too well. Would that you could have seen the anger in those same grey eyes that look upon you with devotion and compassion!"

"Do they? How can you know anything of this?"

"I know my son," smiled Elrond, a rueful smile filled with nostalgic melancholy. "It is no surprise to me that he was the one, between the three of us, who would do the right thing, the just thing, the thing his heart craved and his integrity demanded. Can you fail to note that I am proud of him? Yet the nobility he exhibits are due to no action of mine; to his Naneth I give all credit."

"And what can you say of Elrohir? Had she not the raising of him also? Nay, I will give credit to Elladan alone, or mayhap to the ancient lineage of Beren, for there was a selfless mate who would give all to earn the right to wed as his heart insisted and his beloved desired."

"Well said," Elrond agreed, finding this astute and cultured elf a welcome change from the befuddled and soft-spoken waif who once dwelled within his gardens. His heart was surging with excitement, for from within the barbs Legolas aimed at him peeped the proof that the prince's heart hoped to lose this argument. "That kind of love you do deserve, Legolas, and yet I say that Beren was selfish indeed, for to gain Luthien was necessary for his sanity and his very existence. He could not live without her and thus his courageous deeds benefited and preserved him."

"Then Elladan is even more brave and deserving of admiration and respect, and indeed my whole heart, for he has sealed his doom by uniting with me. Yet my whole heart he would not accept, even could I give it to him; for his brother alone is that greater part of his soul reserved. Thus his charity and my selfishness both fail, and it will be Tinu Mín who suffers."

Now Elrond could hold back no more, for Legolas covered the evidence of his pregnancy and turned away, but not before the tears he fought to hide filled his eyes with vibrant glitter. The Elven Lord at once enveloped his sylvan mate within his arms, tense though that body was beneath his touch, and softly, defiantly refuted this dread fate.

"Nay, that shall not be. Tinu Mín will be happy and loved, and you will give birth and live to see him grow to adulthood. Nor is it selfish to want this for your babe, Legolas, but only what is right and ordained so by Iluvatar himself. No life-bearer can do less than demand all the energy the unborn child requires. If it is necessary to draw some portion of this light from outside yourself, which we know is so, then it is not selfish to expect the other parent to supply that deficit.

"Nor would Elladan begrudge you this, nor even Elrohir, though I know you cannot believe it is true. Yet I insist it is so, for Mithrandir removed the darkness from our souls and we have done penance, Elrohir and I, that has humbled us both and enabled us to see at last what fools we are and what brutes we have been." Then Elrond drew breath deeply and proclaimed his rights in determined tones. "Yet while I commend Elladan highly, I find myself in turmoil, for I do not want to hear you say you prefer him to me, or want things to remain as they are now. Without just cause to say it, I assert that I alone am your rightful and true mate, for you chose me and told me so with your own voice. Will you say now that you spoke lies?"

Legolas pulled out of the embrace, comforting though he had found it. He had decided to remain aloof and angry and demand recompense from this haughty Lord, yet his heart betrayed him and opened up at once. Still, it could not be this simple lest Elrond misunderstand his value once more and abuse the privilege of standing beside a prince of Greenwood as an equal.

"I spoke no lies to you then nor will I now. My heart was given, that is correct, yet you cast it aside in scorn. How can I present to you again that which you deemed worthless? I think it is only the son of Thranduil you speak to, seeing an alliance between our separate lands preferable to enmity and isolation."

"No," Elrond denied, once more falling to his knees before Legolas, for he perceived that the elf would turn from him and seek Elladan and Elrohir. "I speak to Legolas, my heart's desire. I did not see before the treasure entrusted to me, but it was not by my own design that this came about. Mithrandir confirmed it; the poison affecting you was rife with potent magic of the blackest sort, created and nurtured by the Dark Lord just to cause this very sorrow. That iniquitous charm has been banished from my person. I am not the same elf you encountered then. Will you not learn if the one your heart chose is worthy of that selection?"

Then Legolas stared deep into the mighty Lord's grey eyes and long minutes did their souls commune. He could not deny that all Elrond had said was true and he could feel the warmth of this heart, at last open, yearning only for him. But he was the son of Thranduil and a prince of Greenwood, and he would have his due in full measure, even to the degree to which he had been debased, so much would he be elevated and adored. And there was yet one thing Elrond had not explained.

"Why?" he asked, the word so softly uttered as to be a sigh. "What made you give me up so easily, there at the ford of the Bruinen? Of all the hurts you have done me, that one was the worst."

"Oh Legolas!" Elrond cried in despair, lifting eyes that were already wet with grief and shame. "It was not easy to see you go, but you were already amid your family's protection ere I came to the river. I did not deem myself worthy to demand your return from those who loved you so well when I had loved you not at all. I believed that was best for you and the babe, to be sheltered within Greenwood by your own people. When Elladan offered to wed you, I felt he was most deserving and best suited, for he never fully succumbed to the hideous effects of the Dark Lord's magic. He resisted it from the start. That is why I refrained from claiming you there and then."

Silence resumed while Legolas considered this, watching as drops of fluid crested the Elven Lord's lower lids and slid down his upturned cheeks. At last he sighed and framed the noble face between his hands, wiping away the teary tracks with his thumb. He tipped his head to the side and smiled, a slightly challenging expression that was also sweetly indulgent and filled with compassion, a look that coyly teased and promised at the same time.

"I will need time to consider this proposal, if such it is…"

"It is!" interrupted Elrond, heart leaping in exultation.

"Then I will think on it carefully," continued Legolas, "and permit you to come to me and formally present your suit. I would know what riches you would offer my father for the privilege of claiming the greatest jewel of his House as your own. You must declare what pledge of alliance your people are prepared to ratify, what commerce and trade my people might enjoy should I decide in your favour. Prepare well! Come to me at midnight and I will judge the merit of your petition."

He turned to go and Elrond scrambled up to his feet, heart hammering, and ran ahead to open the door for him, bowing to this intriguingly regal personage as he did.

"How shall I find you?" he asked, voice subdued and breathless.

"Whenever my soul calls to you," answered Legolas, tendering his beloved a smug and condescending smile, "you come." Then he grew serious again and took one step back toward the Noldorin Lord. "Should you fail to do so, surely on that day would I perish, Elrond." Then he turned in a swirl of blue robes and resumed his lordly gait, disappearing around a turning in the hall.

For long minutes afterwards Elrond stood gazing at the empty space where Legolas had been, a giddy smile giving him a besotted appearance well documented among those newly love-struck, but had he known he would not have cared. When at last Elladan and Elrohir rounded the corner and found him thus, he leaped into action, dragging them inside the chamber and shutting the door, there demanding their aid in drafting the proposal Legolas required.



Part Eight
The corridors were empty and silent, even the sound of his footfalls muffled by the sumptuous luxury of the thick velvet carpets lining the stony paths, and while brightly lighted the place had never held such menace, or so Elrond imagined as he traversed the labyrinth of Thranduil's stronghold in search of the King's younger son. In exalted exuberance he had prepared his manifesto, therein defining every boon and benefit that would result should he be permitted to take possession once more of the glorious lesser prince, secondary in rank alone and peerless in beauty, grace, dignity, and valour. For Legolas would be his again, this Elrond was determined to achieve at any cost to himself, his House, his people, or his realm. Indeed, had Thranduil asked for Vilya he would gladly have handed it over.

The King of the Wood Elves had been surprisingly mellow and beneficent during the formal audience that afternoon, smiling graciously as Elrond grovelled before the throne and proffered the sealed and beribboned scroll bearing the details of his offer. Thranduil had made one or two suggestions regarding the articles pertaining to trade and military resources, opining that perhaps such decisions ought to be delayed until the Lord of Imladris had opportunity to confer with his advisors and with Glorfindel. Beyond that, he did insist on a formally written agreement that any child generated by the union be raised for the first five years of life within the bounds of Greenwood's roots, thereafter to spend fifteen years in Imladris before returning to the sylvan realm to be trained in the ways of the woods by the best archers in all of Middle-earth. Under the eaves he must remain until achieving his majority, though visits to the Hidden Vale would of course be arranged.

To all of that Elrond had eagerly acceded, pleased that Thranduil took it as given that the alliance would go forward and Legolas would be given to him. Seeing this manifest in the Noldorin Lord's eyes, the stern father had at once corrected the error, warning Elrond that only Legolas could decide if a second marriage would take place and that he must not depend too much on the strength of the bond of extremis. What would determine the fate of them all, Thranduil cautioned, was the quantity and the value of the love Elrond presented. Legolas would weigh his heart and if found wanting, the sylvan prince might reject it utterly. Then, Elrond might remain in Greenwood as Legolas' bond-slave, so to provide the necessary strength and light the unborn babe demanded, but not as the prince's royal mate and husband.

That was the cause for the threatening gloom surrounding him, which Elrond knew arose within his own guilty conscience, for surely he deserved no less than to endure the same bitter bondage to which he had subjected Legolas.

Now the direction he was going was an absolute mystery to him, for never before had he been within the underground city of the Wood Elves, and Elrond obeyed the unvoiced signal tolling through his soul absolutely, trusting that it would be as Legolas had said and he would come to him at last. This was the first time that he was aware of the source of the compelling urge, though he could not deny he had felt it often in the past and never once had refused to respond. Now in wonder he thought of the long years that Legolas had persisted beside him, refusing to give up hope that he could win the Noldorin Lord's heart. In all that time, he could have sent for his father's aid to rescue him, as he had finally been forced to do, but instead had buried his identity and swallowed his pride, abiding the slurs and cruelties heaped upon him.

For the child's sake he left and no other's. If only I had sent for Mithrandir long ago, even as Glorfindel exhorted me to do! Great is the harm my pride and arrogance has wrought.

Yet Elrond was sure he could remedy the situation and prove a good mate to Legolas, and so he continued on. The way was rising and growing more austere as the common areas of the fortress were reached. Then he passed an elf occasionally and received stares so cold and filled with enmity that he began to lose heart. It was all too plain that Greenwood's folk, at least those dwelling in the grace of proximity to the King's abode, were apprised of the history he shared with their prince. It was surprising, thought he, that the border guards had allowed him to enter the realm. Just then he turned a corner and reached a set of great doors secured from trespass by two warriors dressed in bright armour with visored helms upon their heads. These grim archers quickly drew their bows and aimed arrows at his heart.

"Daro!" ordered the one to the left. "Alben neledhitha Sant-en-Lanthir pen annol peth-pendrath." (Halt! None shall enter the Garden of the Waterfall without giving the password.)

"I know it not," admitted Elrond. "I go where I must. Is there another way out that does not lead me through that place?"

"Caro inc," (Guess) said the second guard, a broad smirk upon his face as he eyed the mighty Elven Lord.

"Man pedich?" (What say you?) demanded Elrond, crossing his arms, forgetting for a moment that these were not his halls and he was not in a position to command anything.

Now the warrior lowered his bow and leaned in close to glare into Elrond's eyes, removing his helm as he did. "Pennon 'caro inc', hû thaur." (I said 'guess', abhorrent dog.)

At once Elrond realised this was no ordinary guard but Legolas' nephew Aras, Thranduil's heir and the son of Galbreth, most favoured of the King. His haughty demeanour he quickly abandoned and bowed low, remaining thus as he spoke.

"Forgive me, Ernil Aras, I meant no offence."

"Your very presence is an offence," sneered Aras. "You are unworthy to touch Legolas and if I could persuade him to it you would be bound over to me and made to submit to a public drubbing. Yet I will abide by my uncle's wishes and offer you again the chance to answer his summons. Guess the password, abhorrent dog. Here is a clue to aid you: what are you?"

Elrond straightened and met the prince's mocking stare coldly, seeing clearly how it would be for him in Greenwood. Still, he must go to Legolas and so he swallowed hard against the stubborn pride that balked at this debasement and answered.

"I am an abhorrent dog."

"Ah, who can gainsay such truth," intoned the first guard, and lifting his visor also revealed his identity, eliciting a harsh gasp from Elrond for it was his own son: Elladan. "Yet even so I purpose to act as guide to the place Legolas has chosen to meet you."

"I accept your terms," said Elrond bitterly, "But I need no guide to locate my mate."

"He is wedded to me," thundered Elladan and held forth his hand, displaying the shining band there. "By what right do you claim to be Legolas' true mate?"

"By the rights of the heart, this heart, my heart which loves him wholly and without hesitation, without reservation, and without end. Within my heart he alone resides and will never be second to another. Can you make the same claim?" Elrond answered, voice calm and fists clenched. To his surprise, Elladan smiled.

"That is the correct reply," he said. "You may pass, Adar, and be forewarned: another challenge awaits you."

So saying he and Aras pulled back the bolts and drew wide the doors, revealing a clear night bright with moonlight and stars, for the garden was in an open space beside the rocky walls of the mountain and no trees concealed the heavens there.

Elrond walked along the starlit path, listening to the irrepressible crash of a waterfall, hoping to distinguish whence would come this second test, but only the sighing of the wind accompanied the cascade's rushing noise. The call of his mate was even stronger now and this told him he was near, yet whether Legolas would be amid the trees or if some dwelling place might be close at hand he couldn't say. Before he had gone another metre the clear shrill note of a lark met his ears and he halted, not a moment too soon for an arrow sang through the air and embedded in the ground scarcely a hand's breadth from his feet.

"I await your command," the Elven Lord cried out. "Reveal yourself and I will do whatever is needed, only let me pass for Legolas calls ever more insistently."

"Still giving orders as if he rules here," a mocking voice announced. From the shadows stepped its owner, none other than Rhûn'waew, Legolas' Naneth and Queen of Greenwood. "Mithrandir assured me you were humbled and contrite, that a new spirit of tolerance and generosity had awakened within you. Yet here you boldly make demands and insist on having your way."

"Nay, fair Queen," Elrond bowed low before her. "I only wish to go to your son as soon as I may. That alone inspired my impatient words. Whatsoever you require of me, willingly will I submit."

"Easy words to utter," said the Queen, drawing near. "Yet I wonder can you honour them?"

"I can and I will."

"Give to me Vilya, the Ring of Manwë's Breath, and then you may go to Legolas." The Winter Queen held out her palm as her sharp black eyes delved the very soul of the elf who had so harshly used her dearest son, second to none in her heart of hearts.

Elrond did not hesitate more than a second, deeming that she would refuse the item as soon as he showed her his intent to obey. Off slipped the sapphire gem and he held it above her palm, yet she did not draw back her hand. Another second passed and Elrond's heart froze, realising he must really make this choice. To do as she asked he must break a solemn vow sworn to Gil-galad as the High King lay dying. To refuse meant to lose Legolas, or at least the right to become his husband. Sadness overwhelmed Elrond, for he could not hold to his hastily given word and must own his false tongue.

"Noble Queen, I cannot. Too great is the risk for me to pass this item to any other, save in direst need. The Rings must not be used, especially here in this place where the servants of the Enemy reside so near at hand."

"Did I speak of use? I am sylvan and descended by direct line from Melian; no need of a jewel have I to command the elements of nature. Is there any other reason why this may not be safeguarded by anyone other than yourself?"

"I swore a solemn oath to Gil-galad not to let it beyond my sight nor put it from my person until the day the Enemy is banished from Middle-earth for all time." Elrond gaped at her, shocked by this claim to kinship with the Maia, his great-great-grandmother.

"Through Eluréd," she answered his unspoken question, "who is my grandfather. As to the Ring, you hold it not to increase your prestige and might but only to save others from the burden?"

"It is at times a burden, noble Queen, as now. What prestige I have was not made through use of the Ring but by diligence and forthright action on behalf of the free peoples of Arda."

"What actions? Long have the Wood Elves, a free people, suffered the unending war against Darkness alone. We have not seen you nor your agents in these woods before."

"That is true," sighed Elrond, dropping his head and rubbing his forehead. "I have not extended my watch over Hithaeglir nor opened dialogue with the people of the forests. This was an error on many counts, most importantly that cause you name: the defeat of the Shadow encroaching over all the world, it seems. I regret the estrangement that grew between our people and hope to amend this fault."

She watched him for a little while and then shook her head, a sigh of her own drifting on the night air. "I cannot judge you, for after the Last Alliance we have never ventured to engage with our kindred across the mountains. The fault lies on both sides. Keep your Ring and see if Legolas will have you still. No guidance from me is required to find him, nor will any be needed for me to locate you should you cause him woe of any kind. Whatever pleases him, that you will do or endure a mother's wrath. Know this: Galbreth is favoured by Thranduil most but Legolas is my own joy and delight." With those grim warnings she strolled away and vanished in the darkness.

Elrond trudged on, brooding and fretful. He had begun this journey in high spirits, certain Legolas would grant him a second chance, eager to show his real character to the woodland prince. After his encounter with the archer's kin and legal husband, he was less than assured of the young sylvan's true intent. Mayhap Legolas had led him on this merry chase as punishment, never intending to entertain the carefully executed petition.

By this time, the insistent call had led him beyond the falling water and stony paths into a stand of tall trees, the species of which he could not name, never having seen any this size save in Lothlorien, and these were not Mallorn. They stood well apart from one another and little brush or brambles filled the space, which was well as the light diminished beneath the high, spreading limbs over head. Before long, he spied a flickering light and headed for it, coming upon a tree ringed in small torches set in pikes thrust into the ground around its broad boll. A single note sounded above and he glanced skyward, yet nothing but darkness met his sight. Then a slight sound followed like the whisper of new leaves in the breezes of spring and the ends of a rope dangled in the air before his face.

"Climb up," commanded a fair voice, unmistakably Legolas, and Elrond hastened to obey.

The rope passed through a wooden floor by means of a rectangular trap and once above it a flash of sparks and a bright flare signalled the lighting of a lantern and the talan was filled with its golden gleam. Elrond clambered onto the platform and gazed about him, searching for the Wood Elf and finding only simple furnishings. A portion of the space was screened from view and to this place he headed, pulling aside the curtain to at last discover Legolas reclining within a vine-covered bower.

"Legolas," he whispered, heart racing to see him at last, fully aroused within seconds, and he hurried forward, leaping upon his mate's inviting body, tasting and licking and caressing the warm flesh everywhere at once for the Wood Elf was naked.

"Elrond," moaned Legolas, shuddering as the Noldorin Lord's tongue laved his ears and then his nipples. No pressure of teeth or pinching fingers were required to make them burn and throb after the long labours Elladan had expended to make them nearly raw.

Yet teeth did strike against the metal studs and Elrond could not resist trying their strength, closing on the gold and pulling just a little, hand vigourously stroking Legolas' cock the while. A sharp gasp and a strong jolt thrust the node hard into his mouth and Elrond sucked it in further, repeatedly stroking the tip with his tongue. Legolas writhed under his attentions, hips and legs working against the grip around the rigid organ, arms supporting him from behind as the nipple was suckled hard as though Elrond hoped to draw milk.

He let go of Legolas' cock to free his own and shifted to the other nipple as he mounted the sylvan, spreading the bent knees wide and penetrating the slippery slit just behind the scrotum. His mouth came away from the archer's chest and he claimed the ruby lips, eagerly delving the mouth that opened for him at once, just as it had in all the days he'd kept Legolas in Imladris.

"Ai! How I have longed for you!" cried Elrond, pumping hard and fast into the cavity, relishing the sensation and never striving to find the sensitive zone so deep inside. He peaked quickly, for he had denied himself pleasure, even the lonely act of masturbation, since Legolas left Imladris. His seed flooded the Wood Elf's interior as a deep roar left his lungs. His pivoting pelvis slowed to a halt and he gazed down upon the fair countenance beneath his, leaning in for another kiss ere he pulled out and flopped beside his mate, a deep sigh and a smile signalling his joy while Legolas remained silent.

"That was pure bliss," Elrond breathed out, his smile growing larger around the sound of the words, and he reached for Legolas' hand, carrying it to his lips to press adoring kisses upon it.

"Was it?" asked Legolas, for he was not as content. He withdrew his hand and rolled to his side, meeting the Elven Lord's gaze with cool appraisal.

A chill gripped Elrond's heart as he met those icy blue depths, seeing that the way to treat with this sylvan prince was not the same as the way he'd used his sylvan bond-mate. It dawned on him that Legolas had not experienced orgasm, his cock hard and red against his belly, a provocative display where it poked out from beneath the new curve in the archer's anatomy. Elrond rested his hand upon the firm mound and caressed it, realising for the first time the reality of Legolas' fertility. Forgetting the mistakes just made, he leaned forward and kissed the stretched abdomen and laid his ear against it.

"Tinu Mín," he whispered. At once his head was shoved off and he sat up to find Legolas livid in rage before him.

"Don't dare," hissed Legolas, fists clenched and voice shaking. "Don't ever call him that without my leave. He is mine and mine alone."

"Legolas, saes," pleaded Elrond gently. "I meant no harm. He might be my progeny, after all."

"He could as easily be the progeny of one of your sons," Legolas seethed, casting the Noldo's words back into his teeth. "What can it matter to you? Did you not abandon us both at the borders of your nation, by your own admission judging Elladan better fit to be the babe's father and my spouse?"

"Aye, but it was in error that I made those decisions," Elrond insisted. "Legolas, I thought you meant to give me hope. Will you turn me away after all?"

"When have I turned you away?" spat the sylvan prince. "Have you not just had your lust gratified and your pleasure spent within my body?"

"I thought that was what you wanted also," replied Elrond sadly, aware now the gravity of his mistake, for he had not spared a thought for Legolas' delight, instead relieving the need his deprivation had inspired and the sight of the naked flesh had heightened.

"I want to be loved, Elrond. Sexual gratification I can procure anywhere, can I not? Surely you recall the result of your numerous experiments: anything in there will do."

"Ai, Legolas. Hearing you speak thus shames me."

"As it should."

Silence filled the talan and Legolas remained as far from Elrond as the boundaries of the bower permitted, without leaving it. This was not how he'd imagined it would be between them, for he had desired the Elven Lord to worship him and bring him to ecstasy with long and tender ministrations, his bruised and abraded flesh already ripe and needing no more abuse to grant him the level of pleasure to which he was accustomed. Indeed, he had warred within himself, trying to decide whether it would be better to have Elrond take him as he soaked in a healing bath or here in the bower built for his bonding night with Elladan. Tradition had won, Legolas deciding the symbolism was important only to find that Elrond just wanted a good hard satisfying fuck.

That he hadn't been able to summon the will to stop him filled Legolas with self-loathing, underscoring the cruel things his Noldorin lovers used to say about his hunger and indiscriminate compulsion to feed it. Tears returned and filled his eyes, not the first since leaving Imladris but surely the bitterest, for even here in his homeland he was still nothing but a slave to the bond enjoined between them on the plains of Eregion.

Elrond could not see the tears for Legolas was turned away from him, hunched up with his arms covering the small round stomach, but he sensed them and was mortified to have harmed the Wood Elf when really what he had wanted was to heal him. They were true, the words of the Winter Queen: he had not placed Legolas at the top of his priorities, even after all the months of soul searching and penance. This bespoke the obdurate nature of his pride and how deeply rooted was the flaw in his character. Carefully he reached out and settled a hand upon the softly heaving shoulder only to have it shrugged off as Legolas shifted even closer to the trunk.

"What can I do?" asked Elrond. "I do not want to cause you this sorrow. I came here expecting only to be granted leave to see you and beg forgiveness. Now I have done more harm for which I must make restitution."

"Is that what concerns you?" A rancourous laugh punctuated the query. "Fear not, Adar wants only to get you out of the forest before Aras succumbs to kinslaying. Once you are on the road to Carrock, he will forget about you. As will I." Yet his voice broke over those last three words and his shoulders quaked as a sob rocked his frame.

"That's not what I meant," replied Elrond gently, distressed beyond thought for having brought this elf more anguish. "I would see you smile and hear your laughter rather than listen to the misery in these tears, for you deserve only joy and happiness. I want to give you those emotions, the ones filled with light and love, instead of the negative kind fraught with heavy and impenetrable darkness."

"Your glib tongue forsakes you this night," jeered Legolas. "Or perhaps it is your conscience that betrays you, making you speak truly, revealing that you remain at the centre of your concerns, when otherwise you would phrase things so prettily that all would be fooled and think your devotion was genuine." He sniffed loudly and cleaned his face with the edge of the coverlet, his tears dammed as his sorrow deepened. "Go back to Imladris and think on me no more. I will journey to Aman with Elladan, even though it means I must endure Elrohir as well." As he said this he dressed, slowly and with obvious discomfort.

"I do not want you to go away with them," said Elrond, his heart skipping in frantic dread of this. "I do not want to lose you forever, nor for you to abide Elrohir for Elladan's sake. They are secondary to me in your heart and soul; this you cannot deny."

"I have never denied it," cried Legolas, rounding on him in frustrated outrage. "You are not the one who was used and abandoned and I will not hear your self-pitying moans of woe over my parting from Middle-earth!

"Do you imagine I wish to leave all that I love behind and raise this child on the strange and shadowy shores of Valinor? Your sons will forget about me once the child is born and we will be alone, Tinu Mín and I. Yet I must try and make it there, for this night has taught me well that I can not endure broken-hearted, unloved and scorned; nay, not even to the completion of my child's nurturing."

Now Legolas was already descending the rope and Elrond came after, hastily doing up his pants, unwilling to lose his chance even though he had failed so fully to be considerate and caring.

"Wait, Legolas, it was just the great pull of the bond, for we had been so long parted, that made me too eager to join with you this night. But now that urge is vanished and I can show you the real nature of my heart's desire."

"You have already revealed yourself, Elven Lord, in every way."

"Aye, and once you believed in that person, even though he did atrocities to you that he cannot now even bear to name. Do not deny yourself the love you want and so dearly deserve."

"Again you place the blame with me! I am not the one who failed to exhibit love and mercy. I am not the one who denies things to those he loves."

"Yes, you would! I made a mistake but it does not mean I do not love you." Elrond reached for the Wood Elf's arm and dragged him to a halt, forcing him to turn and meet his eyes. "Legolas, I love you. I cannot live without you, nor will I permit you to go from me. Where you go, there I will be, striding beside you, arguing my case until you finally grant me reprieve." Then he kissed Legolas, pouring all the passion of his heart's longing into the connection. The sylvan did not repulse him and gradually melted, kissing back and permitting the Elven Lord to wrap him in his arms, evidence of hope that made Elrond's soul soar.

When it was over Legolas sighed and rested his head against the Noldo's chest. "You love me?" he asked quietly, afraid to hear the answer, afraid to look into the sombre grey eyes for fear of discovering a lie.

"I do, more than I dreamed it possible to love any living being."

"Never have you spoken thus before," whispered Legolas and he clutched tight to the strong body supporting him. Valar knew how much he wanted to believe these confessions. Some sign is required, for the needs of the child will bind me to him even if he despised me. Yavanna, I need a sign. No sooner had he sent forth this desperate prayer than the babe in his womb stirred for the first time. He gasped, hearing the same great intake of air from Elrond as the mighty Lord held him out at arm's length, round eyed in amazement and fear together.

"Was that…?" whispered Elrond.

"Aye, I think so," Legolas whispered back, in awe for so powerful an indication. Carefully he laid his hand atop his belly and pressed. A small flutter moved the fabric beneath his hand and he laughed aloud, a huge grin breaking free as he lifted shining eyes to Elrond. "He moved! He is well and strong, just as Aragorn promised."

"Ai Valar, was this the first time he has kicked?" asked Elrond in wonder, letting Legolas settle his palm over the spot. He pushed a little and immediately a strong jolt met his senses. The Elven Lord smiled and nodded, rubbing the spot lovingly. "Aye, you are strong and courageous, just like your Ada, aren't you?" he crooned, bending low and unbuttoning the loose robe Legolas wore so to caress the smooth skin. On impulse he leaned in and kissed the naval, smiling up at Legolas' shining eyes when this made him giggle.

"He was waiting for you," said Legolas in tones almost reverent.

"What do you mean, because of the kick just now?"

"Aye. He was waiting for his father."

Several heartbeats of time elapsed before Elrond found thought sufficient to form words. "Does this mean you will grant me one more chance to prove my love for you?"

"It does. We shall be wed, yet not right away. I have thought on this all day and here is my offer: For five years you will dwell with me here not as my husband but as my bond-mate only. You will serve me even as I served you, save that I promise not to degrade you nor revile you for the natural desires that arise between mates. Tinu Mín will treat Elladan as his father, for this will satisfy the ruse we have already established before the population, but he will know from my words that I consider you his true sire.

"At the end of five years, we will journey to Imladris, the five of us, and there you will wed me before the assembled Lords and Councillors of your land. Elladan's ring will remain with me always on a golden chain about my neck, but thenceforth I will wear on my hand your ring only, as you will wear mine. All other provisions named in your petition to my Adar I approve and will be honoured by me and all my House and all Greenwood's population. Can you abide these terms, Elrond?"

Elrond did not have to think about it even for an instant. Solemnly he took up Legolas' hand in his and the other he rested on the bare stomach. "I can abide it, Legolas. Willingly and with gratitude will I accept these terms, for through them you grant me my heart's desire."

So it was decided, and Elrond dwelled within Greenwood beside his mate those five years, never begrudging his beloved the least of his wishes or wants. After the passage of that interval, they returned in splendour to Imladris, bringing the child created between them, Elladan and Elrohir, Aragorn proudly attending, Mithrandir solemnly leading the way, King Thranduil and his Queen following, their youngling Galbreth with them, watched over diligently by Aras, and before all the courtiers and maidens, lords and ladies, nobles and warriors of the realm, Elrond married Legolas and installed him as his equal, his true and only mate for evermore.



Part Nine
Legolas broke from the cover of the trees in a dead run, sprinting with every ounce of energy he could force from his weary muscles, willing them to carry him across the open meadow to the wild tangle of hardwoods defining its boundary on the opposite side. Just a few metres more, but he had been running for hours, sometimes on ground and sometimes mid the branches when he could find any, splashing through streams and stumbling over rocks and through brambles, desperate to get away. He heard them, the pounding of their horses' hooves easy to track, and knew they were closing. A loud whoop of triumph sounded as they cleared the tree line and spotted him and now he raced with feverish frenzy, glancing behind to see the trio galloping hard toward him, knowing they would be upon him in seconds.

So it happened and they captured him, Elrohir throwing a weighted sling that wrapped around Legolas' ankles and brought him crashing to the earth. Almost as one they leaped from their horses and caught his hands, busy trying to break the binding, and bound him despite his wild struggles. Then the one who had thrown the bolo claimed winner's rights and cut the clothing from him, exposing him naked and vulnerable for the delight of the other two. Elrohir teased and played with the captive's penis, laughing to see it already hardening before he even touched it, and bound a tight cord around its base.

He did not bother to undress himself, merely opening his leggings and drawing forth his cock, stroking it to rigid hardness for Legolas to see. Then he turned him over and propped him on his knees, spreading the naked thighs and positioning his penis where a red wet slit begged for penetration, lunging into motion with the initial thrust and riding the sylvan until he spilled. He pulled out and flipped Legolas over, showing him that he was not depleted but would have need of him again after his kin had taken their pleasure as well.

One after the other Elrond and Elladan took him, each spilling deep inside the bound elf as the other two watched and offered encouragement and suggested alterations in position and pace. Only then did they untie his legs and turn him on his back, grinning to see Legolas' cock still rigid and dark. Elladan bent to suckle it, rending soft cries and pleas for release from the captive, which were ignored. They spread his legs wide and staked them down.

Then they stood and stripped and settled around their captive. The twins went to kneel side by side one to the right and left of his head. In unison they dipped their heads and seated their mouths over the two rigid teats presented there upon the archer's rising and falling chest. Deeply they suckled and moaned in pleasure, for the captive elf began to imitate what they were doing, alternating between the long red penises that fairly brushed against his cheeks. First the left he took within his mouth and teased, using teeth and tongue until he had Elladan rocking into him. Then he would turn to the right and find Elrohir's identical cock waiting there, and he would give it the same attention.

Watching this, Elrond was not content. He settled between the fettered legs and fucked the prize they had captured, alternating between the soft wet heat of one hole and the tight, squeezing compression of the other, switching each time the captive switched cocks. Even that was not enough and he stroked and pumped the hard organ between Legolas' thighs, tormenting him into cries that excited the two whose cocks he was worshipping with such avid adoration.

The mouths came away from the elf's chest, meeting above the pectorals to share a long kiss, revealing the wet nipples from which pearls of clear fluid welled and cascaded down his skin. Legolas' child had long been weaned, but none of his three mates were willing to let him dry up. Elrond lurched forward as he fucked the paired holes and lapped the sticky trails, stealing a quick sip from each node as his sons egged him on. Then he relented and let them have their sweet treat again, increasing his pace and watching as he struck the core of their captive's body repeatedly, all the while fondling the hot shaft and directing the other two to bite if the nectar was too slow to flow.

Legolas brought the twin cocks to spurting orgasm first, sucking the juices alternately and receiving no small amount of semen across his neck and in his hair. Then he felt Elrond come, driving deep inside him and spilling hot seed, adding to the mix already seeping into the grass beneath his arse.

They all withdrew and rested for a time, though not long. Elrond crawled up and kissed his mate, turning aside and spitting as he encountered the residue of his sons seed. Then he moved lower and nuzzled the tender pink buds, licking over the nipples delicately.

"Did you save me any?" he demanded of the others, working the flesh beneath his mouth gently, not sucking yet but tickling and teasing the sensitive peaks until they were high and hard.

"I think so," this answer came from Elrohir, who rolled to the side and propped himself on an elbow to watch as his father began to take small quick bites at the nipples that had Legolas' body jerking off the ground. "Ai Valar, you torture him," he whispered in husky tones, his cock growing hard as he saw Elrond's fingers delving into the sylvan's anal opening.

Without realising it he was pumping his shaft and when Elrond simultaneously plunged his cock in that tight hole and clamped down on a teat, he was himself breached by Elladan. The elder twin drilled into him, groaning loudly, matching his father's pace as Elrond rocked into Legolas. All the while Elrond swapped between breasts, pinching the one he could not suck, sometimes lapping the fragrant beads of milk his fingers squeezed from them, sometimes offering the free teat to Elrohir. It was long before they could achieve orgasm and the three of them came together: Elrohir spilling into his hand, Elladan pumping his semen into his brother's arse, Elrond doing the same to Legolas, their gratified cries loud and exultant.

After that, the twins took Legolas together, one in each hole, while he sucked their father, the Elven Lord worrying his nipples and his ears and the Twins teasing his restrained penis until he would have begged for release except that a huge cock was thrusting in and out of his mouth.

Then the mania was over and they were sated, except for Legolas who had all this time been denied his pleasure's fulfilment. The twins wandered a little apart and curled together to rest, while Elrond untied Legolas and unbound his cock, finally relenting and sucking him to completion. Then he gathered his mate close and held him while they recovered. After a time, the three Noldorin Lords feigned sleep, and seeing his cue Legolas extricated himself from Elrond's hold, slipping away at the run, wondering how much of a head start they would give him and whether he should permit them to catch him again or teach them a lesson about the length of time he had been made to wait for his release.

He grinned in wicked delight and signalled for the horses, instructing them to return to the Last Homely House. Before he let them go, however, Legolas gathered the slings and ropes and chains stored in the packs they bore. Racing away, he laid plans to trap the hunters and truss them up securely, images of claiming the three of them, plunging into their upturned arses one by one, making him smile.

~ The End ~

Disclaimer: Main characters and settings originally created by JRR Tolkien. Just for fun, no money earned. OC's and story are erobey's.