Lord of the Rings: Seek and You Shall Find

To Part Two: Love and Obsession

By Paladin

Main Characters: Aragorn, Legolas, Gandalf, Elrond, Glorfindel with prominent appearances but not main roles for Gimli, Saruman and Boromir.

The Pairings Consist of or Will Consist of: Aragorn/Legolas, Elrond/Glorfindel

Warning: This story contains graphic images of male/male sex a.k.a. slash. It also contains elements of nonconsensual though not brutal sex of the same kind. If you are 18 or younger, or below your state or countries legal age of consent, leave now. If you are offended by this material, leave now. I do not own the rights to any of the characters, the world, or general Tolkien concepts. No money is being made or will ever be made by this story or me on ideals not of my own. Do not archive this story in any other location without my direct permission.

Info Note: This is an Alternate History look on Middle-Earth, even a bit of an Alternate Universe so if that is not your thing, sorry :o(.

Aragorn shifted unsteadily on his throne, his agitation clear to all who mingled about the throne room yet only his loyal servant Gimli, the dwarf, truly knew the depths of his frustration. Gimli was a strange sort of fellow, one of the few remaining on the surface of his kind. His hair was dark and thick, as were all dwarves, the long partially braided beard a great prize of his. Gloin's son, he was, which made it even a bit odder that one of such stature would have been fond in Gondor. Since the rise of the powerful and demanding warlord king Sauron, the dwarven race had all but retreated to their vast underground kingdoms, locking their gates to the outside world, forever. Still his greatest friend and advisor warned him of utilizing such a word as forever with races that were rumored to live so long. Even if it was a commonly accepted fact amongst the human kings, lords, and peasants alike that dwarven kind was lost to the world of man, Gandalf would heed not a word of it.

"You brood far too long in this dismal place," came the wise quiet voice of the very wizard that occupied his mind.

"Gandalf, you have returned. Perhaps this place will brighten a bit for awhile."

"Only a while aye?" The wizard, dressed in his grey flowing robes with a lengthy gnarled staff pulled at his long white beard peered at him with a twinkle in his eye. Even if a thousand wrinkles were to tug at his aging face, the strength and clarity of this man's eyes would never fade.

Aragorn shook his head, his own long hair curly and dark no doubt frazzled with lack of general upkeep. "Affairs do not hold well my friend."

Gimli grunted in the back, no longer content to hold his tongue. "Not well! If you continue to let Sauron gain power then there will be no affairs left but his own version of slavery masked by some foolish ideal of ruling." The dwarf's voice echoed too loudly in the large stone chamber.

Aragorn turned to Gimli sharply, his anger rising quickly. "Silence yourself. Gondor does not need to enlist an enemy of the likes of Sauron. His power grows because he wields it well. It is an honorable thing..."

Gandalf let his staff hit the cold hard floor quickly. "Honorable! I see in my absence Saruman has wasted little time in whispering into your ear his foolish notions of honor."

Aragorn sighed heavily. "Not this again Gandalf. Saruman is wise and has served my sires long and well. His wisdom and knowledge has not once failed me in battle or construction of my kingdom. We are strong and because of that Sauron respects our borders and our ways."

Gandalf eyed Gimli yet spoke to Aragorn. "Do not mistake intelligence for wisdom. Sauron hardly notices our borders with his orc parties moving all about, and what he does notice is there only because you continue to bow down."

"Enough," the young king stood swiftly. The servants and the guards in the hall all held their breath knowing full well that even Gandalf had overstepped his position as friend and as advisor.

If it were not for the commotion sounding outside the two large oaken doors, the argument could have turned quite ugly. Instead, the two large doors were thrust open and four guards escorted a large wooden cage housing three figures inside its hemp roped boundary. The leader of the band, a dark-haired man who was tall and grey-eyed stepped forward and spoke calmly despite the whispers and concerned faces he beheld during the unorthodox action he partook of. "A thousand apologies my lord, but we've little notion of what else to do with these three. The others fear they are bewitched and will have nothing to do with them. I myself am afraid to touch the like of these strange looking creatures. We think they were fleeing the forces of Sauron. Give them over to him, the men pleaded, but we serve you my lord and not this Sauron so I bring them here for you to decide their fate."

Before their lord could answer, a calm chilling voice cut through the room like a whisper of death. "If Sauron's men are in pursuit of them, then they are indeed criminals and likely great ones. Our treaty would have use send them back to the great lord at once."

Gandalf turned to Saruman, bowing in respect for the man was a great deal wiser than he, but the aura of unpleasantness was not one he could easily ignore. "Our treaty has many words in it Saruman, if they are read one way, perhaps that is so, but another... it still gives our king the right to rule."

Saruman's dark gaze pierced Gandalf steadily. "Are you implying the treaty 'our' king signed is an unfair one?"

Aragorn stepped forward smoothly, motioning Gimli to follow him as the sword clanged against his belt and armor. "I don't really think this is a debate over who signed what treaty or what the treaty says. It's an inappropriate argument to have here in this room and before everyone here. Boromir, right or wrong, you brought these fugitives to me and it will now be my decision and no other's. You and your men find guest quarters, for you look weary and deprived of good sleep. The matter is no longer in your hand. Now, let me have a look at these creatures that the some fear so greatly. If their look and smell is better than that of orcs then at least they can stay here in the castle for awhile." He pushed aside the hesitant guards who blocked his view.

There were indeed only three that caused such a ruckus and they were not of orc's blood of any kind. The first Aragorn looked upon was the figure lying down, pale as the moon with the sweat of sickness gracing his brow. His hair was long and golden, laying splayed across the makeshift wood of the cage. It seemed to him that this person shimmered a bit though it could not be for magic was the trait of his two advisors and should they sense it would they not react? Seemingly bewitched by these strangers, Aragorn gazed on in silence at the lithe but strong figure whose hand clutched the fingers of one of his companions. The one who seemed sick also seemed young to him but he could tarry no longer for the one he touched and who kneeled beside the wounded now held his fascination. This one seemed neither young nor old and his hair was the color of twilight, his eyes grey and clear, a might hidden in those depths. His garb was plain as the others, worn from travel and the sheath on his waist empty which somehow brought sorrow to the human king's heart, it seemed so lacking for this stranger whom he did not know. His eyes however did not linger long on this one either for it was the one that stood that stilled his heart. This one was younger than the others, he could feel it, and was dressed in green and brown. His hair was pale, almost white and his face noble, fair, unflawed. An empty quiver laid draped over his shoulder. This one starred back at him not with the calm indifference of the first but with a curiosity that almost matched his own. So much so did these blue eyes captivate Aragorn that he almost missed the smooth ears lightly hidden beneath the graceful mane, pointed ears.

"The Hunted," came Saruman voice. "This is indeed a misfortune my lord. Sauron has forbidden to speak to or of this accursed race my lord. Let us send them to him at once for it is said their voices are like those of sirens, capable of calming a soldier to dropping his sword so that he may be slain as easily as a newborn babe."

Aragorn was not listening for the two conscious captives began speaking. He was disheartened to realize he could not understand a word of it. As king, he had been amongst many who's tongues were unfamiliar to him but this one was somehow different. It was as if there were no syllables or hardly even sound, more like an echoing whisper that slowly entered his mind like a thousand taunting needles. It was for this reason he was about to send them Sauron's kingdom as suggested yet two words suddenly rang clear and sweet to him though he did not recall hearing them. "Legolas, Elrond," he whispered.

The two captives turned to him sharply, the youngest clearly shocked, the beautiful eyes locking with his in what seemed like joy. The other, the elder, turned quiet, his look thoughtful yet still calm.

Aragorn moved forward hesitantly as he peered at the younger with the empty quiver, his heart strengthened and driven as if he had uncovered some hidden knowledge but he did not know what that knowledge was. "Legolas," he voiced again and reached his hand out ever so slightly. If only he could touch that hair, was it as light as it seemed.

"My lord!" Saruman voiced anxiously awakening Aragorn to the fact that he and the three were not alone.

"Take them to the dungeon," he managed to voice hoarsely. "I will decide their fate later. And go, find a healer to tend to their sick."

Saruman, who's voice was calm and clear with confidence spoke wisely once more. "Their touch maybe harmful, and even if instructed not to do so, a healer may take pity upon these creatures and lay hands on them. Would you wish such a death on our hands?"

Aragorn sighed heavily, turning to Gandalf and Gimli who both oddly remained quiet. His wizard friend seemed thoughtful, quiet troubled, yet Gimli eyed them steadily, his gaze uncharacteristically steady and strong. "Gimli have you knowledge of these hunted?"

Gimli did not look at Aragorn as he spoke, causing the human to suspect more but not know what. "No my lord, but I will tend to them if it pleases you."

Aragorn nodded quickly. "Of course, yes it does it indeed. Go with the guards and see what can be done. Be wary my friend." He then turned to his two wizards. "Go, find me lore on these hunted and bring me the treaty. Let us see just what the words have hidden."

And so the throne room was slowly emptied of all but servant, guard, and spirit.

Part 1> The Captives

Gimli moved outside the iron barred chamber that held the captives, ignoring the two ever patient and watchful eyes examining his every move. He had gathered them warm blankets, water to bathe and drink as well as fresh fruit and bread to eat. All this was done without a word from either party. It was as if each one was afraid or at least hesitant to speak the first words now that the human's were no longer near. Finally, the dwarf broke down, knowing full well that the prisoners' patience would far out last his own. "Was it one of the nine?"

The one he heard called Legolas spoke quickly, his brash youth shining. "Then you do understand us dwarf, understand us without pain?"

Elrond spoke next. "It was feared that even your kind's hearts and ears would be poisoned if you dwelled amongst the humans too long. Sauron's venom runs deep and too quickly for the bodies of mortal men."

Gimli pulled up a wooden chair, that was hardly comfortable for his race but something he had grown accustomed to. He stroked his beard thoughtfully as he looked at his companions again, this time reluctantly. Deep down, the dwarf knew that the drive to stay above was given to him by the gods for an important purpose, he had just hoped it would wait a little longer until he and Gandalf could gather more information. "Not all men."

Legolas nodded quickly, crouching down as graceful as a cat and staying there at ease, as if he too sat upon a chair. "Aragorn, you stayed because of him."

Gimli smiled weakly. "Well Gandalf really but in the end I suppose it was actually Aragorn and a handful of others. The songs, the books of elves were long ago destroyed by Sauron and his minions."

"Why do not the dwarves battle against him then? Clearly you see the evil that is being done."

Gimli snorted gruffly. "What makes you think we are not? My father and those like him have many plans in action. We are simply fortunate enough not to be hunted by the Nine and have offered many times to house refugees in our walls."

Elrond spoke softly. "We will not run from our enemies nor will we bring the wrath down upon another race. Sauron wars against us and claims to human ears that we are weak and vanishing but it is folly. If the dwarves are indeed in action against Sauron in secret, then the news has truly softened my heart. Our companion is in grave need of healing Gimli son of Gloin."

Gimli sighed heavily. "I have been forbidden to enter the cell elf. It is said the memories of your race are great and long. You remember or at least have heard of me. Yet tell me, of my original question which of Nine hunts you? I send word to the dwarves when I can and if it be possible, we will find these hellions and drive them away to weaken his forces."

Elrond stood smoothly, his strong long fingers curling around the bars, the sorrow and grief in his eyes strong and urgent. "It is not one that hunts us but all if they can manage. You need not break your word to your king and enter this cell. The healing can be done by my own hands, but there are a few items that I require to do so. Tell me, friend dwarf, will you aid us? Glorfindel was struck by their horrid blades and is near death. If it is in my power to do so, I will ensure he remains amongst us here in Middle Earth longer."

Gimli pulled at his beard and looked at the unconscious elf who strangely, seemed to sleep peacefully though in truth was unconscious and very ill. "Tell me then, what you need and I will return with it."

Gimli the dwarf spent the next few days departing from the castle at the unawares of Aragorn, his lord. At no choice of his own, the axe wielder found himself often consulting Gandalf on the whereabouts of these strange herbs Elrond had spoken to him carefully of. It was an odd task for the son of Gloin, one that troubled him a great deal. On more than one occasion, he was required to tell his bored lord that he was merely going about the countryside to relieve his stiff joints and the stuffiness of the courts. It was a sad affair for he knew his human friend desperately wanted to hear about the elven captives and what tales Gimli had unfolded. Unfortunately, Saruman was very strict on how to take care of the captives which meant keeping all but Gimli at bay for "safety's" sake, especially the king who's people would grieve horribly if he were to come to some harm.

On the rising of the sun on the fifth day after fulfilling the task to help the elven prisoners, Gimli returned with his last root which stunk of corpses in his mind. He handed it over to the fine strong fingers all too willingly and peered inside at thick mud the elf seemed to be preparing. "You don't aim for him to drink that horrid mess do you?"

Elrond smiled briefly, pleased to have a bit of humor in the grim task he had begun to undertake. "Not even in death would Glorfindel forgive me for attempting such a feat. No, friend dwarf, I will apply this to the area of the wound and then perform the healing miracle myself."

Legolas paced a bit, his restlessness growing quickly. Day in and day out, only the marking of the stone walls allowed him to keep track of time for under no circumstances were they to leave or even have access to the outside world.

Elrond raised one brow in the direction of the younger elf but said nothing as he continued with his work, his hand rarely straying from that of the Glorfindel's who's appearance had become even paler and very still.

Gimli grumbled lowly. "Tell me already, where do you hail from?"

Legolas spoke first, eager, most eager, to spend even the slightest amount of energy in chatter. "I come from Mirkwood where my father Thranduil rules. On his leave, I departed to Rivendell with grievous news of approaching darkness to that area."

"Rivendell!" Gimli pulled his beard strongly. "My father, Gloin, spoke of the place. Then these are hard times indeed. Till now the name Elrond escaped me. Now Glorfindel, that name is new I am certain."

Elrond spoke softly though his fingers did not tarry from the careful task of parting the roots in smooth even strips. "Glorfindel is a lord of Rivendell and a very close... friend. It was good fortune that brought us to the prince for the nine were in pursuit of us and had been for great length."

"Ah, and in the throws of battle your friend took the blade. My heart swells with the notion of battling evil though I respect your grief. When the dwarves have prepared, we will go forth to this Sauron's land so that he may know the might of my people!"

Legolas spoke quickly and softly. "Calm yourself Gimli. Sauron has many spies in these lands and has fooled the rest."

"Bah! I've no fear of the likes of them..."

Elrond stood smoothly, his eyes stronger and glistening with relief. "You should have. Sauron has managed to cast a dark veil open those around him, blinding them to all his evil plots and deeds. Only the absents of the one ring holds him at bay. The refugee for my people, Rivendell, will fall to even a power as great as that in these times. No, Glorfindel was not wounded in a battle but an assassination attempt on my own life. His bravery caused him this great pain and praise the gods he will recover. Now on to more important matters. Gimli, son of Gloin, you must tell me what you know of this place and the people."

The elves and dwarf spoke late into the night of the king and his council, the guard Boromir, and the plans of the dwarves. Gimli spoke at great length and in confidence though he felt as if much of the information given was already known to Elrond save for the dwarf plans and the mighty army they were brewing. On this, the elf lord sought for detail repeatedly though each time, the dwarf could not help but feel as if Elrond disapproved and believed it all to be naught.

"It was our choice to make," Gimli suddenly snarled, unable to contain himself any longer. The elf's constant facial expressions but lack of any clear words infuriated him. "It doesn't matter that I didn't agree but I see their reasoning. If the dwarves were to remain on the surface as you, we would have become the enemies of human's and Sauron or worst, betrayers ourselves. The gates are locked but I assure you not forever, never forever."

Elrond stood smoothly, his gaze steady and piercing. "I have not said otherwise Gimli."

"Said! You've not said at all." His frustration was clear and the argument may have continued had Glorfindel not moaned just then.

Elrond's eyes quickly left that of the red faced dwarf and dropped to that of his companion, the worry and anxiety apparent to Legolas.

"My Lord," the whispered words were uttered in pain and breathlessness. "We live, then, then we are home... in Rivendell... yet the smell is so moist and dark here..."

Elrond's strong hands kept his patient idle as he stroked the hot brow. "No, we are not home just yet but in the human kingdom of Gondor."

"Gondor," Glorfindel tried to sit up, using Elrond's reluctant hand for support. "Friend or Foe?"

Elrond could not sit back and watch his companion struggle needlessly and suffer more pain and so aided the effort to right the wounded elf to a comfortable sitting position, one that left the golden hair elf leaning against his lord for support. "We are captives at the moment. Whether the humans will be friend or foe, only the winds of time can foretell."

Legolas kneeled down and gave Glorfindel one of the bowls of water in silence, noting there was a sadness in the elder elf's eyes that had not been before he was wounded. It was not deep yet still hardly hidden.

"Rivendell," Glorfindel whispered longingly before regaining himself. "And of the nine, the Nazgul?"

"We escaped them in the thickness of the forest and then later in Gondor."

"My horse?"

Elrond smiled fondly, pushing a loose golden strand behind the thirsty elf's ear. "We loosed them. My heart tells me that your mount will find his way home. Now eat a little and rest, for you have been very sick for days."

Glorfindel sat up straighter and sighed heavily. "So much time has been lost. The ring, surely it is nearly in the grasps of our enemies. You should have left me and continued on..." He voiced softly, a calmness radiating from his person despite his illness.

Elrond looked at the outer wall of the basement cell, knowing that a few feet of stone stood between them and their freedom. "It has been said that foul deeds, no matter how noble, will ultimately lead to evil results. Abandoning you to the hands of our enemies was not an option, not even to those who do not cherish you as I."

The two elves gazed at each other for several moments before Glorfindel turned to Legolas. "You have my many thanks Legolas, son of Thranduil and prince of Mirkwood."

There was a light clatter as a heavy gauntlet hit the floor near the stairs. Quickly, Gimli took up his ax and went to investigate warily. "Spy, show yourself and face a noble death."

Aragorn stepped from around the corner, his brow glistening with sweat and his hands clenched so tight that the nails dug into his palm, leaving trickles of blood gliding down his fingers and knuckles. His eyes were dark with pain and his jaw clenched even as he spoke. "You understand them then Gimli. I too hear words, strange words but they are painful to me, driving me to near madness. I could have you executed for this betrayal..." His words were soft and light as the elves remained in silence. "But there is much that I do not know. My heart tells me to trust you and so I will." He turned to the captives. "I see the one is treated. Most fortunate." His eyes then focused on the youngest of the three. "Legolas," he stated with confidence and thought.

Legolas stepped forward, bowing lightly as his clear eyes gazed at the human king in wonderment. "Yes..." he voiced softly, stopping when he witnessed the human flinch at his words.

Elrond stood and went to the bars. "The sorcery is foul and dangerous. Seek the light, Aragorn. Do not yield to the poisonous lies and magic."

Aragorn's sword went to the elf's neck quickly, the point pressing firmly against the tender skin. "Silence," he ordered with clenched teeth, his body trembling from the mere effort it took not to slay the fair creature. "Gimli, bring the one called Legolas to my chambers." He then departed calmly, taking a moment to catch his breath and sag against the wall only after the human king left their sight. These elves were important somehow... and he had to know why despite the danger it would bring him and his kingdom.

Elrond placed a hand gently on Legolas' shoulder. "Be careful. There is light in him but the darkness is dominant. He does not know what is controlling him or how to fight it."

Legolas ran his fingers through the long silken strands of his blonde mane. "I will proceed with caution. If it is possible, I will send word to Rivendell that our plans are now halted yet may fair well still."

Glorfindel clasped Elrond's hand tightly. "May the light follow you Legolas, into this lair of growing darkness you face alone."

Gimli opened the sturdy iron door and eyed the elves steadily as he closed the door once again. "You are mistaken Glorfindel. It is not a growing darkness you see, but a faltering. I've not spent my decades here to let it fall."

Legolas turned and viewed his companions once more before following the brawny dwarf up the stairs. It was possible, he would not see them again, ever. The possibility was sad yet he did not walk with a heavy heart. Fate had drawn this human king to him and oddly, he to this king...


Aragorn paced about in his large chambers, his heavy boots thudding against the smooth stone floors and echoing down the halls. His fingers glided over the short beard he bore as his gentle dark eyes closed behind heavy lids. There was more to these elves and to Sauron than he ever dared believe. Long had Gandalf warned him of the impending strength the warlord gathered about himself. Elves, the mysterious people who's names and deeds were whispered about the flickering camp fires of those who were brave enough to live on the outskirts of civilization. A people whom he had dismissed easily in an effort to unite the kingdom and gain the throne in order to drive out the dark goblins and foul creatures arising from the depths of the earth. Creatures that Gandalf had claimed from the beginning were being led by Sauron himself. Aragorn sighed deeply. Yet Saruman too was a man of wisdom and vast knowledge who believed Sauron would lead them to their greatest hours. The king's thoughts were interrupted with a pound to the door.


Gimli nodded to him once, the dwarf's worry yet confidence as clear as the hand stroking his beard. "Legolas, as you requested."

"Thank you Gimli. You may leave."

The air about the room seemed cool and calm as the elf stepped into his quarter's, the lithe figure's grace and footsteps smooth and silent. Aragorn's breath came slowly as he watched an unseen breeze tumble the long blonde strands of his prisoner about the room. Those eyes, they were so clear and unafraid, even now. "Legolas," Aragorn whispered as the door was closed.

Legolas nodded slowly, a slight smile forming on his lips. "Yes, my lord. I..." His voice trailed off as Aragorn winced. The king did not know it, but the spell was greatest on him and even the softest whispers of elven kind issued great pain.

Aragorn's eyes darkened as he raised his hand. "Silence prisoner. I will do the speaking." He motioned to the bed. "Sit."

Legolas bowed briefly, though a hint of defiance stiffened his shoulders as did so.

Aragorn took two goblets and concentrated on filling them with wine to avoid appearing as uncertain as he felt to his prisoner. What could he do if no words could be spoken between them? The human king turned and handed the elf a goblet. "Of the finest of wines in my kingdom."

Legolas smiled slowly as he sipped the dark red brew. There was amusement in his blue eyes and Aragorn could not help but believe that this wine was nothing to that of their people. He pulled up a chair and sat facing the elf. "The elves have long since vanished from our lore. You are known here as only the Hunted, the enemies of Sauron and would be masters of all races." His voice was calm, harsher than he intended but clear. There was anger in him towards this one, the one he was drawn to, the one he wanted, but he did not know why.

Legolas placed the goblet, barely touched, on the stone floor. There was a boldness in his eyes long before he leaned forward and clasped Aragorn's strong hands in his. The touch was soft, electric and yet powerful for he managed to pull Aragorn to his knees with a smooth motion. Then, the light soft fingers brought his hand to the youthful elven face. From there, Aragorn needed no further encouragement. He followed the rise of the cheek bones, graced the delicate lids that closed for him and traced the pointed ears. Then the bright eyes opened and held his gaze steady, the lips moving carefully in a faint whisper. "Do I seem a monster to you Aragorn?"

Aragorn shook his head slowly, feeling like a child who had made a rather obvious discovery. "No, yet your voices, they are weapons." And yet now, he felt nothing. The pain was absent. Why? If only Gandalf or Saruman was here to tell him.

Legolas spoke quietly, a gentle smile forming on his lips, their bodies and their faces close so the faint words could be heard. "They are songs, beautiful and light. Sauron's evil has filtered our words into horrid sounds to you and your people."

Aragorn allowed his heart to melt under the soft utterances, his breath came deep as he attempted to ignore the light pain that resounded in his head like tiny high pitched bells. As the silence continued, he noticed Legolas seemed uncertain for the first time since he entered the room. The elf had very much taken control of the situation, which angered him though he felt as if a gap had been closed during the undue boldness. Then, his prisoner shifted and spoke again. "I am not a creature of quick passion Aragorn. Coming here was not with that intention..." Before Aragorn could stop himself he struck the fair face, sending the lithe figure back against the bed swiftly.

The human king stood. "Silence prisoner, I have allowed you far more freedom than due." Aragorn's voice quivered slightly, and he wondered if his regret was clear in his eyes as well. There was no anger in Legolas' fair features as he sat back up, not too quickly and not without a slight wince of pain from the light reddening of his cheek. For reasons unknown to either, Aragorn offered his hand, the same hand that had burst forth in violence just moments ago, and Legolas accepted. Without a word, he took the elf out of his room and down a few halls, ignoring the surprised looks of his servants and guards until they were standing just outside a small wooden door, peering upon the vast rolling hills dotted with a number of trees. His grip tightened as he led them out towards the gazebo near a small pond he favored. "Do not attempt to run elf. There are many guards in the area and your friends will be the ones to pay the price."

Legolas squeezed his hand gently. "I will not flee," he whispered as they entered the tall white gazebo decorated only with the thick leaves of ivy and one lone stone bench.

Until now, Aragorn had avoided looking at his prisoner for he knew there was something that had to be seen in this elf, something that would only be shown in the light of the world itself and no man made fire. He turned, his fingers tight on the small wrist, and beheld Legolas in the world his folk had lived long before the word man was uttered. The sun illuminated his pale hair, his skin and even the glory of his blue eyes. Encountering only light resistance, he pulled the smaller figure into his embrace and captured the surprised lips, crushing them to his will as the strength of his arms refused to release his newest desire.


Glorfindel relaxed in the arms of his lord, his long golden hair shining under the long overdue attentions of Elrond's fingers and comb. "Do you think that Legolas will fair well alone with their king?"

Elrond paused, the hint of sadness in the other elf's voice pricking at his heart. "I believe Legolas will do fine though he is likely to encounter more than he expects," he voiced softly.

"If you say so..."

Elrond let his fingers glide down the smooth forehead to the cheeks below which were lightly damp. He breathed in swiftly as his forefingers gripped the reluctant chin and forced Glorfindel to face him. The eyes dropped to the floor instantly even when the elf lord bent forward and kissed the damp trails as if to kiss away the pain itself. "I should never have kept our affair secret and will do so no longer."

Glorfindel trembled delicately beneath him, his strength sapped from the overwhelming experiences he had encountered since the evil blade had entered his body. "Your sons... It matters not. Your heart is weary for you know I am dying despite your efforts."

Elrond tensed, his voice angry and his eyes sharp. "Your body is healed Glorfindel. You must find the courage to overcome the darkness. I cannot face these evils alone my love..." His head dipped, the dark mane draping over them as their lips touched gently, hesitantly at first as if testing the brink of reality before allowing the passion to flow. Glorfindel lifted his pale hand, grasping the proud head as he responded eagerly, desperately, his eyes closing as more tears flowed from the depths of his being.

"You are not alone my love, never alone. Not in this world or the next," Glorfindel murmured finally.

"How touching," Saruman voiced quietly. "You two seem to have known each other for some time."

Elrond stood smoothly, his eyes angry as he recognized a mocking enemy. The elf lord set his chin stubbornly, not ready to back down even if he was indeed the prisoner. "Saruman, I should have known you would come here, creeping in the darkness as too does your soul.."

Glorfindel stood as well, his eyes thoughtful and sad yet he remained silent, oddly passive.

Saruman's dark intelligent gaze regarded them coldly. The wizard wore long white robes with greyish hues and embroidered symbols of the arcane arts. "I go where I please Elrond of Rivendell for as you can clearly see, I have the king's ear. He will listen to me over Gandalf for it is I who lead his army to victory against the troops of our rivals for the throne he sits upon." His long fingers held a staff close to his body. "Sauron will rule these lands. You are all foolish to oppose him."

Elrond shook his head. "Sauron will destroy these lands and all the blessings life has to offer. I will not waste my breath on you for your heart is clearly black."

Saruman laughed lowly. "I suppose it would be useless to inform you that I could arrange to have Sauron come here and finish the job himself." He pulled at his long thin beard slowly. "You would not believe my word on the matter in any case but there is another threat, one far more plausible and one that not even you can ignore." The dangerous glint in his eyes slowly focused on Glorfindel. "It is not uncommon for a person to appear to become well and recover only to lapse into a worst state than before, eventually dying all together. No one would think twice about it, not after seeing him unconscious and with high fever in the throne room."

Elrond paled though Glorfindel appeared unaffected. The elven lord shifted, blocking the wizard's view of his weak lover. "Even if you were to succeed, you cannot undo the progress that has been laid at hand here. Aragorn will break your spells. Sauron will be defeated."

"Ah yes, the proclamations of the desperate and weak. That may well be. Now isn't it fortunate that if either Aragorn or Sauron are victorious, I will be well established."

Elrond's slightly slanted eyes narrowed. "Not if we are the victors Saruman. You will pay for crimes then. Ten full."

Saruman sneered angrily. "That is highly unlikely and even so, how will your fair race deal with their gallant lord's heart broken with sadness for a lost love..."

Glorfindel, who had remained watchful and quiet, spoke then. "What is it you want Saruman, or is your sole purpose to come here with threats?"

Saruman smiled slowly. "Let us say that I can be persuaded from notifying Sauron of your presence and can certainly insure no harm will come to any of you here."

Elrond's anger was not masked as he narrowed his eyes again, his heart racing in fear and pride. "In exchange for what?" he demanded.

The wizard's smile suddenly sent a chill down Elrond's back. "It is rather fortunate that you two are already quite familiar with each other else the task would be most difficult."

Glorfindel's eyes blazed as his body tensed, the inborn fight Elrond new so well, radiating from his love's body. "I will die first wizard."

Saruman stepped forward, his staff tapping the iron bar loudly. "You may indeed."

Elrond's heart felt torn in two. The coldness in the dark gaze of their tormentor and the anger in his lover were both strong and real. Still, Glorfindel was weak and if poisoned, who would indeed think that it was anything but the sickness taking its toll? Who would believe the words of an elf captive who could barely communicate with humans? Even so, what did it matter if there was suspicion. Glorfindel would be gone from this world. Elrond moved next to his lover, his strong fingers grasping the still heated shoulders and pulling the blonde against his body allowing his lips to caress the back of his lover's neck as he whispered. "Let us do as he says." The body before him tensed again but did not pull away. "If this Aragorn can be reached, then let it be now. With the humans on our side, we can vanquish the evil. And I..." He took a quivering breath. "I must not loose you. Not here and not in such a manner. Not when I can do something about it."

Glorfindel closed his eyes slowly and spoke quietly in turn. "You would have us perform for this man, like... like animals."

Elrond let his fingers drop down the strong arms and clasp the tense hands below, stepping in so his chest pressed firmly against the strong back, their closeness in heart now matched in body. "To him we may seem animals that will do as ordered but know I will never see you as anything less than what you are Glorfindel. This Saruman will make good on his threat. What purpose would your death serve here... here when we maybe closer to..."

Glorfindel shook his head in dismay. "Elrond, you ask so much... and because it is who you asks, I will obey. Who am I to refuse you anything?"

The older elf breathed in deeply, his heart fluttering under such a declaration of love and admiration. If they had been else where, he would have shed a tear for being shown such a truth as this, yet the presence of Saruman could not be ignored. The dark haired elf turned, his long straight strands whirling with him as he regarded the wizard warily. "Very well Saruman. We will do as you wish, for now."

Saruman chuckled lowly. "Very good. Perhaps your arrival is not a complete loss after all." With a small wave of his staff, the iron door opened and two sets of hefty chains drifted into the room. "Adorn yourselves in these, and we will find a more... appropriate location."

Elrond took the cold metal in hand and stroked his lover's long golden hair as he clamped the large ring about Glorfindel's neck. Before placing the restraints around the pale wrists, he kissed the tense knuckles and palm, his eyes lifting to meet Glorfindel's who returned the gaze with wonderment perhaps, for the moment, forgetting the other was there which was what he had hoped. After finishing with the ankles, Elrond dressed in chains himself, looping their restraints together through double clamps that locked them together. Saruman stepped forward, taking the single chain and pulled, leading the elven prisoners up from the depths of the isolated portion of the dungeon. He gave them little pause and ignored the questioning look from Boromir who stood as the wizard entered the staircase leading up to his carefully sealed tower.

Beyond the thick darkly stained door was Saruman's study, bedchamber, and sitting room. Naturally, the wizard carefully avoided the study, slamming its smaller framed door shut sharply as he lead his prisoners into the lavishly decorated room. The bed itself was round and covered in thin silk sheets of white and dark grey. The pillows were embroidered with silvery frills and square shaped. A chair of thick oak stained dark with rounded arms and legs leaned against a back wall next to a securely locked chest. Heavy tapestries of ancient events covered the walls, clean of dust and even loose thread. They were, surprisingly, of light events, of times when good vanquished the darkness of evil. When man, dwarf, and elf kingdoms thrived in close proximity to each other.

Glorfindel's strong fingers suddenly tightened around his wrist bringing Elrond's attention to his lover. The gentle eyes were turned away from him, his face hidden behind the long loose golden strands he treasured so much. Still, the body was tense. Something had spooked him.

"What...?" Elrond's voice trailed off as his grey eyes beheld the source of anxiety. It was a strange device of wood and iron clamped against the stone wall. There were four shackles and one thick leather band to hold ones neck back securely. Next to it were three whips of different sizes and styles.

Glorfindel whispered to him softly, so quietly in their own tongue he almost did not catch . "His guard is down Elrond. We can defeat him even while bound."

Elrond shook his head, carefully watching Saruman move about the room and pulled out wine, seemingly uninterested in the elves and his torture device. "Even if we were to escape, we cannot leave Legolas here. Trust me, no matter what happens, I will not allow such a thing to be used on you."

Saruman's staff hit the ground hard as he took a seat, gaining the attention of both elves. "We've not the entire day you two. The others will venture down and wonder where I have taken you. On with it, and do it right or I will attend to the situation myself."

Elrond narrowed his eyes but complied taking Glorfindel's hand and leading him over to the bed where they both sat down. His long strong fingers gripped his lover's chin firmly and turned the reluctant participant to face him. Grey eyes beheld him tenderly, his words but a whisper. "Focus only on me Glorfindel."

Glorfindel nodded sharply as he was pushed back onto the soft silky bed. Elrond's fingers left the stubborn chin and trailed down the tender portions of his lover's neck as his lips sought and found the gentle curves of his pointed ear. He nipped and licked the sensitive skin, drawing a pleasurable gasp and shiver from the blonde elf.

"To the side Elrond. I wish to see more of your lover," came the cool demand.

Elrond rolled over slightly to the side, capturing the trembling lips below when he noticed Glorfindel turning to look at Saruman icily. His fingers stroked the blonde strands soothingly as his other supported the neck while he explored the moaning mouth. Ever so tenderly, his fingers dropped to the front strings of Glorfindel's garments, loosing the fronts ties and pushing the shirt open revealing the pale skin of the golden haired elven warrior. His fingertips glided over the slightly pronounced muscles to the two pink nubs that seemed to crave attention. The elven lord bent forward and nipped the tiny peaks to hardness, relishing the tremble the body beneath him produced as Glorfindel let loose a small gasp. Elrond, Half-elven, continued to torment his lovers sensitive nipples.

Glorfindel's fingers pressed into Elrond's neck as the golden haired elf leaned forward, whispering softly. "Please, my lord, do not make me cry out in front of him."

Elrond's knuckles graced his cheek gently as he replied in a soft whisper of their own tongue. "I will try, but I fear if we use too much caution, this Saruman will harm you."

Glorfindel leaned back, nodding briefly as he sat up, removing the rest of his garments himself. The elf hero said nothing, avoiding eye contact with the other two, his long treasured hair shielding much of his expression until he laid back again, his eyes closed and body tense.

The Lord of Rivendell paused a moment, the agony gripping his heart as strong as if it were a physical hand. Then he lowered his head again, the twilight hair carefully shielding both their faces as he brought his lover into a strong, warm kiss, his fingers cupping the light cheeks and encouraging the other to open his eyes. He shifted his body as the shining eyes revealed themselves to him, his own grey glistening with light sorrow. Glorfindel's fingers found themselves lightly tangled in his dark strands as he leaned forward, willing himself to be lost in Elrond's efforts.

With their bodies revealed clearly to their tormentor but their faces thus hidden, Elrond allowed his fingers to continue their exploration, not wishing their gaze to be broken. He found his lover's thighs to be parted, Glorfindel's desire hard and pulsing within the golden forest he knew to be there. Tenderly, gently, he stroked the hardness, claiming the low moan from his lover as his own with a passionate kiss.

The light in Glorfindel's eyes shown bright as they clouded with desire and a hidden acceptance. With the firmness of one in want and yet the tenderness of lover, he grasped Elrond's hair and willed him to travel down his body.

Elrond complied his lips leaving a cool trail on the hot skin of his lover's neck and chest. He paused, watching Glorfindel arch and gasp, his beautiful face tense in passion and hair pressed heavily into the silken pillow behind him. Had they been home, in the great halls of his manor in Rivendell, nestled in the safety of the elven sanctuary, the half-elven lord would have willed his love to speak, to plead even for the desires his body craved. His touch would have been harsher, grasping Glorfindel's wrist above his head to wait for the needy thrust of the strong hips to follow. Here, he was gentle, his kisses, his touches light and tender, no less or more loving than their unions before.

Taking Glorfindel's hand in his, and squeezing firmly, Elrond's other hand freed itself from the twitching desire below and traveled over the round muscle further down. His fingers probed the smoothness, pressing into the waiting warmth with light difficulty for they had no oil, no solvent to ease the coupling. Somehow, he doubted Saruman would offer such a remedy without greater sacrifice required. His strong, long fingers moved inside his lover carefully, his grey eyes watching the mix of emotion play across his lover's pale face. Then, Elrond insert another, and then another, pausing when the heat contracted about his digit, when the body arched and an audible gasp erupted from the attended body. Their hands continued to clasp, a vice like grip of support, of understanding. He took several minutes to work his lover's heated haven, relaxing the muscles, encouraging submission. Elrond would have taken greater and further care if he had not heard the light stamp of a wooden staff nearby, reminding him that they were not alone and their onlooker was growing impatient. His practiced eyes roamed over his lovers lightly glistening body, watching the parted lips pant in desire and discomfort, the eyes quiver beneath the light lashes. Always, Elrond insisted on taking his lover like this, with their eyes locked, with the beauty of the elven warrior, so strong before others and on the battlefield, quivering, moaning and displayed for his lord. This time, as Elrond withdrew his questing fingers, he choice a different path, unwilling to share this side of Glorfindel unless he had to.

First, he leaned forward, stretching his own body over his lovers to gently kiss the parted lips, his tongue slipping in only briefly. Then, he encouraged his Glorfindel to turn and then flip entirely so that he was on his belly. His fingers trailed down the sloping spine and traveled along the rib cage, causing small stifled gasps to arise. He could feel the tension in his lover, the uncertainty radiating from the golden haired elf for he was not used to such a position, at least not with this lover. Later, perhaps, Elrond would discover if he had done so before with another. Then, the elven lord's fingers moved over the round muscle of his warrior's rump, stroking, gentling him back to ease as he positioned himself for a rather rough entry. He allowed his chest to rest warmly on Glorfindel's back but not heavily, very much pleased to see the golden hair he treasured so greatly now hide the others features from onlookers. For but a moment, a twang of regret arose for he wished to see his lovers features, he wanted to not only feel but see Glorfindel's reaction to this. It was not to be, and he was not selfish enough to entertain such thoughts here. Elrond grasped his light lover's hips and pressed inward deeply, forcefully knowing that to prolong the impalement would prolong the pain.

Glorfindel's reaction was swift and almost violent, nearly bucking Elrond free of his glorious body. The elven lord held stead fast, his hand lightly stroking his lover's back as he settled into the hot depths. A light whimper sounded from his elven warrior, causing his lord's heart to melt. His lips dropped to the tense shoulders, kissing the hurt away as he began to move, easing in and out of the fiery enclosure. It took only a few good, hard strides before he felt Glorfindel press back, desiring more contact more speed. Elrond readily granted the request, his hips striving to drive into the needy body. He closed his eyes, his fingers splayed over the muscles before him, riding his lover at a grueling place, feeling the pleasure enter his veins but not succumbing to it. Elrond clenched his teeth to keep from moaning aloud, from uttering Glorfindel's name in desire, in love.

Elrond plunged repeated into the hot haven, gasping softly as the muscles surrounded his pulsing length. His strong sure fingers moved between them, grasping the dangling sacs and pressing firmly, watching the strong body before him arch in want and pleasure. Glorfindel continued to press back, allowing himself to be penetrated to the fullest potential, gasping in quiet surrender each time his lord bore into him.. The intense heat nearly intoxicated his mind, willing him to let go completely, a sweet siren's song in the form of pleasure.

The two elves panted in their efforts, the delight and the harshness of their union lost on no one, not even their observer. Then, he felt the familiar sensation, a tightening in the lower regions of his body, the twitching of desire and pressure coupled with the unyielding desire to cry out. Biting his lip to silence himself, Elrond drove forward fiercely, releasing his essence into the depths of his lover...

His body trembled and his knees felt week as he broke their union, pulling away and lying beside his lover who remained kneeling with his head bowed and body heaving with deep breaths. A light flush of shame rose to his cheeks as he realized the pleasure he took from such an event, but Elrond paid it no heed. Instead, his fingers pressed the golden hair aside, gliding over the sensitive pointed ear as he beheld his lover's features. Glorfindel's eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth parted in desperate efforts to bring in air and his cheeks, they were lightly damp.

Elrond breathed in deeply, rage entering his bowels as he kissed away the moisture. They had caused him to hurt his lover, his beloved, his treasure. Yet, when Glorfindel's eyes opened, those eyes that were so often filled with wisdom, strength and the determination of a being who had seen so much, he beheld not the pain and humiliation he expected, but a defeat of another kind. Then, the golden warrior, beloved of his people and of many, spoke, his voice raspy, exhausted and yet still beautiful to Elrond. "I am sorry my lord for I took pleasure in this."

The Lord of Rivendell grasped Glorfindel's shoulders and pulled him into a tight, warm embrace. His kissed the temples, the forehead, and the quiver lips of his lover repeatedly, his fingers stroking the beautiful being he knew to be his. He was heedless of the moisture of the golden haired elf's own release upon the silken blankets, and bid his lover to relax in his arms. Glorfindel sighed softly, his damp forehead resting on Elrond's shoulders as the lord himself spoke quietly in his ears. "My beloved, my beloved," he said, "bare no shame for it is not our shame to bear." His reward was a weak nod, and he smiled.

After remaining entwined in a lover's embrace for a few moments, he turned, only then able to face their tormentor, their would be master. Saruman was gone and later, he would discover the tower door was locked. When the wizard departed, he did not know. What he did know was that his Glorfindel was out of direct danger, his body tended and spirit rekindled. The deed had been done, and for now, they were safe if not enslaved. How, he wondered, did Legolas fair?

Lords of the Rings: Seek and You Shall Find Part 2
Love and Obsession
Part One

Warning, this is a Deathfic but not necessarily angst and as always, my fics end on a good note so give it a try. To give out more information would give away the surprise.

<Approx. 2 Weeks Later>

Glorfindel sighed softly and murmured as he stirred awake. Elrond's strong yet gentle fingers stroked the golden strands resting against his chest with an easy smile forming. "The morning is late," he voiced quietly.

The golden haired warrior blinked a couple of times and then sat up, stretching briefly, an uneasy frown gracing his beautiful features. "The night, it was long for me."

The Lord of Rivendell nodded solemnly. "Your nightmares, they have returned. Is it the dark blade that haunts your dreams or the ringwraiths?"

With bare feet, Glorfindel moved over to the washbasin of their cell. Trembling hands splashed the cool water against his skin. "No, of a time long ago."

His lover did not elaborate, worrying Elrond for he knew of Glorfindel's past but in no detail. Forcing a smile, Elrond stood, moving next to the other elf, his fingers gripping the sturdy shoulders of. "Come, we've fruit and cider this morning."

A soft chuckle sounded from the elven warrior. "Do we? Perhaps they hope to win our affections with treats." The bitterness was too pronounced miss.

Elrond turned his love to face him, his fingers moving aside the gold strands that covered the despaired features. "I believe it was Gimli. The dwarf knows you are under spirits."

Glorfindel nodded apologetically. "I am sorry my lord. Sometimes I forget that we are both prisoners here and there are those who work for on our behalf."

Elrond kissed the damp lips tenderly. "I am sorry you cannot go with me during the day..."

"Saruman," Glorfindel voiced angrily.

He hesitated. So much anger and hatred already resided in his lover towards the wizard, their tormentor, who had them perform for him almost nightly. "Yes, I believe it is his doing. The dwarf tells me Saruman has advised Aragorn that if you are taken beyond our cell for long or even outside, you will flee at whatever cost or..."

His concern must have shown brightly in his grey eyes for Glorfindel's fingers rose to his cheek, a sweet hesitant caress. "Or?"

"Or you will find a way to end your life."

Glorfindel breathed in deeply. "And you believe this as well?"

Maybe, Elrond thought. Then, he recalled his lover's gentle promises, the sweet words that promised never to leave alone, not in this life or the next. Really, such words could mean any number of truths, though he let the darker one lie. "No, I do not. Gimli is certain Aragorn has chosen the latter reason to worry about and so you must remain."

"It is so dark here Elrond. The sun, the breeze, the gentle rustle of leaves, all these things I cherish are held at bay by this cold stone." A light smile formed, heightening Elrond's spirits for even though the words led one to mourn, the gesture was light and good. "I am not alone, even in this my lord. Have you spoken at length with Legolas then?"

Elrond nodded briefly, wrapping his arms around Glorfindel fondly. "The prince has this human in a frenzy for he has proclaimed to Aragorn that the human shall not have him willingly until words can be spoken between them without pain."

The surprise that shown in Glorfindel's sea green eyes was priceless. "And this king, he has complied to such a demand?"

"It would seem so. The wizard Gandalf can work on nothing else though Gimli says the poor servants are terribly frightened of their lord's foul mood. This Aragorn can think of little else but what he wants, desires and cannot have just yet."

"It is a dangerous game this elven princeling plays. Does he mean to follow through with it, to give himself to this human of all people?"

Elrond smiled fondly, his fingers gliding over the pleasantly pronounced muscles of his lover's upper arms. "Is it so surprising that an elf might find love in a human, even during these dark times?"

Glorfindel blushed lightly. "Of course not. I meant no offense my lord."

Elrond chuckled in turn. "I know, forgive my humor if you will. I believe Aragorn and Legolas are rather taken with each other. Perhaps Sauron's spell is not strong enough to withstand such a force even without a counterspell."

"Then we must wait and hope. Hope that this Gandalf will succeed with his research or that a king's desire turned love over powers the sorcery." Glorfindel sighed. "Alas, I am restless and my heart craves the blue or grey sky; it matters not to me at this point."

Elrond's fingers glided down the lightly covered chest and sides. Oh, how he loved to explore this strong body. His musing faded as he felt Glorfindel wince suddenly. "Your wound, it is still tender?"

Glorfindel nodded. "Yes, but not greatly so. It will heal eventually even if the darkness left by the accursed blade..."

"Will dim." Elrond cut in. "And in the halls of Rivendell, your heart will be so full of joy and grace you will not notice even that." His lips rested gently against the others temple. "And during the nights, when the songs are not so prominent, and the chorus a bit sadder, you will rest in arms, when you sleep and when you awaken."

"Hmm," Glorfindel's voice was soft and warm, as if willing to grasp the light thoughts himself. "The idea has merits. However, I love you far too much to come between you and your children and the powers of the courts. I relish what we have and do not require more."

He sighed then, inwardly. According to Glorfindel, he had no needs at all, which was, of course, not so. There was so much strength and pride in his golden haired warrior that Elrond was not surprised it took these evil events for him to even express his need for the natural world, and unfortunately, his growing want of vengeance against Saruman. "The twins may find it difficult at first. They hold the memory of their mother so strongly, and with anger, but they enjoy your company and presence a great deal. Arwen, she is my heart's child, and wishes me happiness and love. She will be surprised, certainly, but joyous for me."

"They must be worried now, for we are days overdue. Does Thranduil expect a message I wonder?"

Elrond frowned heavily. "Glorfindel, I am certain they are worried and have begun to search for us. They would not think to venture this far or here. And the reason, my love, that I have kept our affair..."

Glorfindel's fingers went to his lips then, silencing further words. "It is all right," he murmured. "I love you as you are, and if you say there was or is a reason, I trust it for I trust you." The golden haired warrior kissed him, gently, tenderly, their bodies warm despite the cool moist air of the cell.

When they parted, Elrond felt the rush of blood color his cheeks as he laughed quietly.  He was beyond pleased to see the gorgeous light of love and passion returned to his lover's eyes even if Glorfindel refused to hear him out. "Stay strong my beloved. We've one lobbying for your increased freedom even now. You will see the light of day, my heart tells me this. Our capture will lead the forces of light to victory."

Glorfindel relaxed in his lord's arms. "Hmm, Gimli is an invaluable friend, but he has lost much of Aragorn's trust in the deception."

Elrond smiled, his fingertips gliding over the small golden hairs of the neck before him. 'It is not Gimli of whom I speak..."

(Aragorn's Chambers)

Aragorn, you are not listening to me. It is damn odd of him to take the elves to the tower at night. There is something strange going on here and you are so consumed with this Legoals..."

Aragorn frowned heavily, ,pushing the serving tray of food aside. He had trouble sleeping, was grouchy, and even Boromir's usually calm and low voice seemed sharp. The elf slept less than a hundred passes away at night, clad in fine clothes, fine light clothes and he couldn't even touch! Not if he wanted the beauty to be his completely.

"Are you listening to me?" Boromir fumed.

"What? Oh yes, the other elves. He is being fitted today for more garments right?"

Boromir openly scowled at his lord. "Who? Oh yes, Legolas. Yeah, I think the tailor is here. She might have time for the others too. My lord, please, this is important. I am sure of it. If you will just listen."

The human king sighed, his fingers traveling over his short beard as he regarded Boromir steadily. The guard was a great deal bolder than any of the others, and insistent. Perhaps it was because of their brief history during their youths. Proper or not, it was refreshing if annoying. "Are there markings, bruises, cuts, even the slightest signs of abuse?"

"Well no but..."

"Saruman does not have the power to remove such blemishes completely. You said yourself the golden haired one is looking better and the other, Elrond, goes for walks with Gimli daily. Has he said anything to the dwarf?"

Boromir sighed, his eyes full of worry and displeasure. His hand ran through he sandy brown hair slowly. "No, what ever is happening, the twilight haired elf does not speak of it."

"Then what is it that you wish from me? They are prisoners Boromir. As long as they are fed, clean, and treated properly what should we care what is done. More importantly, why should I care? Now, if you wish to request something of them, let me hear it."

Boromir paced a moment. "I am not convinced what is being done is proper And no my lord, I want nothing from them."

Aragorn stood then. "Excellent, then let us consider the matter dropped unless actual information happens to surface. Be useful now and see if Gandalf needs assistance."

"As you wish my lord. Please do keep I mind what I have said. And if you find it in your heart to do so, please consider giving the other more freedom as well." Boromir bowed briefly and walked away.

Before the other man left his sight, Aragorn spoke. "Boromir."

The guard turned and faced him, a questioning gleam in his eyes.

"Feel free to come to me and voice your concerns."

Boromir smiled. "Thank you my lord."

The human king was then left to brood further alone.

(A Guest Room)

Legolas lifted his arms and turned slowly, his blue eyes clouding with displeasure and annoyance. The elven prince's patience was wearing thing. This fitting was on its third hour and it had the promise of being much longer. The problem was, he couldn't speak to the girl, not without bringing tears to her eyes and even then, most of the words were not understood. Gimli had been in the room earlier but after telling the girl to leave and return twenty or so times, it had become clear the dwarf had had enough and left. Perhaps he was being too picky, but there were certain things he could not just bring himself to wear. Not only that, but the condition of him being free to roam the castle required him to remain silent.

"Excuse me Elsey, may I have a moment?"

"Of course my lord."

Legolas turned in time to see the wizard enter the room. He had a long white beard, sharp eyes and a rather pleasant smile. The fact that this one never seemed to change his grey robes made the elf wonder if perhaps the torment of the tailor ought to be his. "Gandalf is it?"

The wizard nodded. "Yes, so it would seem." His hand stroked his beard a moment. "I thought it might be nice to free you of this charge and take a turn in the garden, with your friends of course." He waved his hand in light annoyance. "We'll call it a research project of some kind. That will get the other free for a bit. Come along."

Legolas dropped the fine fabric onto the ground carefully before going after the strange fellow. "But you can hear me, and will not Aragorn wonder where I am?"

Gandalf nodded. "Aye, he probably will be he's a grown man and can wait. You have him waiting for a great deal more after all. And my young friend, there are a many things that these ears can hear."

Legolas blushed lightly as he followed the wizard down to the dungeon doors. The elven prince was not allowed to enter the area himself anymore, so he waited, and the wizard emerged a short time later with the other two prisoners. Glorfindel was in tow, with two leather wristbands attached to chains which the wizard held in his grasp. Neither one looked pleased at the arrangement. He fell into step beside the Lord of Rivendell, who seemed slightly relieved. Soon, the small party found themselves out doors enjoying a shaded lunch beneath a propped whit tent.

The prince of Mirkwood found himself wishing for Aragorn's presence, despite the calm and pleasant nature of the luncheon and those attending. He had not the stomach to dine much, neither did Glorfindel from the looks of it. Legolas smiled slowly, watching Elrond's hand absentmindedly glide through the gold hair as he chatted with Gandalf. Although they had not spent a great deal of time together, he found the couple to be rather charming, both of them easy to like. It was difficult to believe that such a union could be kept secret in any setting. The prince wasn't sure if it was time or perhaps the refreshing outdoor air that did the trick, but the previously ill elven warrior looked a great deal better and in higher spirits. In fact, it was the first time he observed an actual smile on the others lips.

Legolas sighed again and looked out over the tall grasses that danced lightly with the breeze. This cast, its residents, and especially its lord were so intriguing to him. Under more favorable circumstances, this would be a wonderful place to spend ones time and learn of humans. He crossed his legs and let his chin rest in the palm of his hand. Aragorn, his mind proclaimed. At first, the man's advances had been unexpected and rather unwelcome, even a bit obsessive and frightening, but quickly, he came to realize that it was not the man that caused the deterrent but the spell that Aragorn suffered from. The prince smiled then, oh how the human was trying to break that.

"One does not need age or wisdom to guess where your mind has wandered to," came Elrond's strong and patient voice.

The blue eyes blinked a moment and then turned to the grey. "Oh, I had not realized my thoughts drifted long. Where is Gandalf?"

Elrond stood, smoothly his garments as he motioned for Legolas to follow. "He had an errand to finish quickly and will return. Come, let us talk while Glorfindel rests a bit."

Legolas nodded and followed. "I imagine his dreams will lighten while under such a pretty sky."

"Yes, yes they will. You have not been in the cell for sometime, how did you know of the nightmares?"

"Aragorn receives many reports during the day. He does not often forget, but others do, that though they may not hear us well, I understand the humans fine."

Elrond smiled at that, a bit humored. "Most fortunate. Is there news worthy to note of our people or fate?"

"Yes my lord. Aragorn plans to move you and Glorfindel from the dungeon to a room adjoining to ours with Boromir as guard. There has been no sign of the Black Riders or elves in the area, and the spell Gandalf seeks to thwart is still unknown."

The grey eyes brightened. "Truly, he plans to move us from the dungeon. Such news is most joyous. Glorfindel will pleased. He has taken our imprisonment rather hard."

"Yes," Legolas hesitated. "Boromir has suggested that Saruman maybe troubling you two. Is it so?"

Elrond smiled weakly, his emotions carefully masked which troubled the blonde elf greatly. This dark haired lord was hiding something, but he was no closer to the source than Boromir or Aragorn. "Saruman is a fiend we must all be  weary of. And you, young elf, must be wary of them all. There is no telling who here is listed amongst Sauron's allies and who reports to him."

"I tread carefully my lord. My heart tells me we are closer to breaking this evil that has made the human's our enemies."

"As does mine, but come now, let us tell Glorfindel the good news. This will be our most joyous day here yet."

When they returned to the tent, they found that Glorfindel was gone and Gandalf not returned.

Legolas shrugged and patted Elrond on the shoulder. "Not to worry. The post that held his chain is not tampered with. A key was used, Gandalf must have returned Glorfindel to the cell since he can not be left unattended."

Elrond nodded. "Then I will go to him. I wish to be there when he awakens. If it is possible, please visit us this evening. We've much more to speak of, and Glorfindel would relish any news you can give him directly."

"I will try."

The two elves then departed. The prince of Mirkwood remaining in the gardens.

(Saruman's Tower)

Glorfindel sat upon Saruman's bed warily, his sea green eyes taking in the unpleasant but familiar atmosphere with barely controlled anger. "This is early, even for you Saruman, and Elrond is not here. You said he would be."

Saruman took a seat after having the elf take a goblet of wine. "I said that he would be on his way. Relax, Glorfindel. This is hardly a new experience for you. After all this time, you are still so uneasy?" The wizard leaned forward a bit, his fingers tight on the wooden staff. "Although nothing can be compared to the first time now can it?"

Glorfindel sipped his wine a bit, knowing not to do so would only agitate their tormentor, and Elrond had warned him about doing so. He turned from the wizard, looking at the tapestries, unwilling to dignify the other with a response.

It must have been several minutes the two of them sat there in silence before Glorfindel shifted, the feeling of warmth and drowsiness overwhelming the cold angry that had begun brewing the moment he set eyes upon Saruman outside. Blinking lightly, Glorfindel laid down, hugging a pillow as he waited for Elrond with a soft sigh. What was taking his love so long? He didn't want to be a alone with this fiend a moment longer than he had to.

At first, he didn't notice the movement behind him, and by the time he did, strong cool fingers were already caressing his hair and neck, lips dropping to his shoulders. It sent a shiver throughout his body. The caress was not harsh or unkind, but the cool strength of it was not his lovers. "Saruman," he hissed, which came out only as a soft whisper. "This is not part of the arrangement. I will not have it."

Saruman laughed quietly as he worked the shirt free from the elf's body. "Then stop me my pretty."

Glorfindel tried to sit up, tried to even raise his voice, but he felt powerless, weakened and very light headed. No matter how repulsed his mind was, his body was awakening to the attentions. He breathed in deeply then. "You have drugged me," he voiced aloud in realization.

"Mmm, relax little elf. We have sometime before your lover will arrive..."
Elrond ventured up the spiraling staircase to the wizard's tower with a dark frown. His lover had not been found in the cell, and when a guard told him that Saruman would like to meet him in an hour, he had been troubled. Fortunately, his human escort was easily distracted by the tailor who was, admittedly, a rather attractive creature, allowing him to venture off on his own. He paused at the door, contemplating his next move. His own powers were considerable if not well hidden here. To burst through the tower and cause a scene could possibly lead to the very event he was trying to avoid by humoring this fiend. On the other hand, he still did not know if Glorfindel was with Gandalf or else where. His fingers fanned open on the door as he thought further, his grey eyes widening in surprise to find the door open. That was the most careless thing he had seen Saruman do yet. And it was rather promising. Now the Lord of Rivendell could venture up and stealthily affirm his suspicions and depart without notice. Taking the long fabric in hand, he began to ascend the stairs quietly.

His pace quickened and all thoughts of stealth fled as he approached the second door and heard a moan, a moan that was definitely not of human tongue. Hot fury raced through his blood as he flung open the door. What he beheld, did nothing to dampen his anger. Saruman, still fully dressed in his noble and elegant white robes, had both his hands on his victim, the often sneering lips traveling down the strong back of his lover. Glorfindel's shirt had been removed, his leggings lowered. The elven warrior laid on the bed, almost as if he were relaxed, his eyes closed and not a hint of fight in him.

"Saruman," Elrond voiced angrily, stepping forward swiftly. "You fiend. I will not allow this. I will not."

Saruman stood quickly, his surprised expression lasting only a few seconds. "I see the fools have forgotten how to keep an eye on a prisoner properly. Calm yourself Elrond, or I will make good on my original threat. I grow weary of watching. Believe me it was most worthwhile in the beginning, but now I fancy myself a bit more of an interactive entertainment."

The elven lord ignored the threat visibly though his heart raced at the possibility. He moved to Glorfindel's side, his fingers pulling his beloved into a warm embrace. Elrond kissed the silky golden strands and forehead, finding the skin not hot with fever but warm and the eyes cloudy, unfocused. It was as if Glorfindel did not realize who he was or  what was being done to him. "Glorfindel?" The only response he received was a muffled incoherent word.

"He can barely hear you Elrond. Worry not, you are more than welcome to watch me, insure nothing improper is done. Most likely, he won't even remember the experience." Saruman's words would seem assuring, but his voice was icy, thick with mocking.

Elrond kissed his lover's lips gently, before laying him back down. He stood and faced their tormentor. "There is nothing proper about this arrangement. Although you have sworn not to harm either of us, you have in fact dealt us no physical damage, your wounds are no less felt."

Saruman sneered. "Your point? If you will kindly move aside, we will continue. A month or two from now, Aragorn maybe free of Sauron's influence and it will end. Peacefully. For now, you are still mine."

Elrond took a breath, his fingers rising to his robes as he began to unfasten the small clamps and light ties.

"What are you doing?" Saruman demanded. "I told you I tire of watching."

The color rose to his cheeks swiftly, despite all his efforts to prevent it. What if he was refused after all. "I am offering myself to you Saruman."


"Think of it," he voiced quietly, trying his best to sound alluring and not sickened at the same time. "Would you prefer a lover who is heavily sedated and barely responsive, or one awake and able, willing to please?" He dropped the first layers of his garment to the floor and made short work of the other.

Saruman's eyes narrowed with mistrust and disbelief. "You would do this for him? Your lover may not even remember the experience, and if he does it will be as if a dream. Elrond, your memories will be whole and complete."

Elrond closed his grey eyes, stilling his beating heart long enough to whisper clearly. "Will my experience be so horrid that I would wish to forget?"

There was silence, and then Saruman laughed, loud and cruelly though there was an eagerness in his voice that made the elf shudder. "Perhaps not my elven whore. I was so intrigued by this golden treasure that I never truly considered you." The wizard moved closer, the smooth fabric brushing against Elrond's flushed skin as a cool hand gripped his chin tightly. "Yes, I can picture you squirming in pleasure, begging for release, wanting to be filled." Thin lips pressed against his throat. "Mmm, will you whimper as prettily as your lover I wonder?"

When the strong demanding fingers dropped to his dark forest down below, grasping his hardness tightly, Elrond did not suppress the deep moan that swelled from his inner being. He willed himself not to think, not feel on an emotional level, but still respond.

The wizard pulled away, his fingers lightly gracing the elf's left cheek. "Move your lover to the side elven lord. We will need the space."

Elrond calmed himself as he complied. Crawling on the bed, he kissed Glorfindel quietly on the temple, checking his breathing a moment before pushing him over a bit. The elf warrior was still awake, his eyes unfocused as if in a haze. If he could hear or see anything, he said nothing. "Forgive me," the elven lord whispered softly as his fingers closed the eyelids tenderly.

He barely had a moment to turn around for Saruman was suddenly there, his fingers biting at the light flawless skin eagerly, his other fingers entwined in his dark hair. Elrond let his head rest against a silk pillow, willing himself to relax, even when the wizard suddenly threw his legs open. There was nothing stopping his loud cry as a warm moist tongue flickered down his navel and traced the growing hardness of his arousal. He arched swiftly into the pleasing warmth as the mouth enclosed over him complete, the tongue flickering along his tip briefly. Elrond squeezed his eyes shut, hissing softly as teeth was scraped against his tender yet firm flesh, his body trembling from the experience.

"Wondrous," Saruman remarked as he pulled away and discarded his own garments. Then, the wizard was on him, surprisingly heavy, his fist grasping the twilight strands tightly as a forced kiss was sought. The invading tongue explored his mouth greedily, a hint of wine passing between them. He could feel the other's hardness press firmly against his thighs as Saruman straddled him. Their tormentor returned to his neck, biting down firmly which must have broke the skin for a hot heat raced through his mind.

Its all right. He told himself, feeling himself bend his neck back lightly and arch into the hot unwelcome warmth of his new lover. His body seemed apart from him, but alive, and almost eager. The perfect participant in this dark union. Then, his eyes flew open as he felt the strangest thing. A trickle of moisture running down his abdomen. It was in an odd place for Saruman's lips were pressed against his throat and the man's hardness was still against his thigh. Then, the other's body seemed surprisingly heavy and still. Something was wrong, and it was not the rape he was referring to.

Elrond's fingers moved down between them, and he brought it back as he felt the moisture. His grey eyes widened in horror as he beheld the red sticky substance coating his digits. The Lord of Rivendell jumped back, checking his body carefully and finding no wounds. "What?" he exclaimed, and then he saw him.

Glorfindel stood at the edge of the bed, his breathing hot and heavy, his eyes still fighting to focus and his forehead damp with the effort to remain coherent. The elven warrior, still bared from his own experience, held in his hand a long candlestick, black in color. The end was pointed, and long, thick where the candle had been and now shining brightly with the life essence of their tormentor, Saruman.

Elrond scrambled back, his eyes wide as he checked the neck of the wizard for a pulse, finding none. "You have killed him Glorfindel," he breathed.

Glorfindel nodded in silence, dropping the candlestick and falling to his knees. "He was, he was hurting you," the golden hair elf finally declared.

The elven lord stared at him wide-eyed, still unable to comprehend fully what just had happened. When he found the strength, he went to his lover, checking him thoroughly though he knew they were both unharmed which made their situation even graver. Elrond had Glorfindel stand and then embraced him tightly, his lips pressing against the other's temple. "You, you cry Glorfindel?"

He nodded and allowed Elrond to lead them back to the bed where they sat. "I have not killed an unarmed creature before, and, and I may not be able to stay with you as long as I had hoped. My spirit will be with you always."

His grey eyes narrowed swiftly. "You are not going anywhere Glorfindel and certainly nowhere without me."

A half smile formed as the tear streaked face lifted to look at his lord. "I am a prisoner here in this human kingdom of Gondor, and I have just executed my keeper." His voice was soft, and calm. "It is not death that I fear, but that I have disappointed you, failed you my lord."

Elrond gripped his chin tightly, perhaps painfully so, but his heart and mind raced too swiftly to dwell on it. "You have not, and you will certainly not die for this." He stood then, wiping the blood from his neck and body carefully as he began to dress in his own garments. "I must go find aid and you must stay here Glorfindel. Promise me you will stay here, that you will not flee, that you will do nothing but wait here for me. Promise me," his voice was strong, fierce.

Glorfindel seemed a bit bewildered at the tone but nodded.

"Say it!"

Glorfindel breathed in deeply, his bottom lip trembling lightly. "I promise," he whispered. Hesitantly, he added. "I can barely manage to stand as it is."

Elrond nodded, not giving the comment much time or thought as he walked down the staircase quickly. The drug, that would be a good defense if they became desperate, for now, he was in search of but one person...
"I tried to warn him something was amiss. I practically begged Aragorn to look into this. Now it maybe too late." Boromir's fury seemed directed at himself and at the human king instead of the two elves involved as he ascended the stairs with Elrond. The twilight haired elf, who's presence was normally pleasant and welcomed, had come to him with the most distressed expression and disheveled appearance. Boromir was not certain how the elf managed to find his private room or pick up on the written language of Gondor. It left him uneasy that such a being, a prisoner no less, was able to do so. Still, he had to clear his mind of such things and contemplate the problem at hand.

He wasn't sure what he expected when he opened the door to the wizard's tower. Certainly a body, but seeing the naked man and his killer, equally exposed, lying on the bed was a bit disheartening. One lay with his eyes open in shock and death, the other, his lids partially closed and breathing lightly, hardly stirring when they entered. The murder weapon was clear enough, and he picked up the offending candlestick with a frown. There was not a rational way to make this look like an accident. It was far too tall to trip and fall upon, and the penetration to deep and straight to the heart from the looks of it. "This will play out as murder," he voiced suddenly and loudly.

Elrond, who was trying to help Glorfindel sit up right looked at him sharply. "Glorfindel was drugged, and this situation was the monster's own doing."

Boromir took a seat, finding himself needing support as he gathered his wits. "Gandalf can testify that the drug was meant to impair movement and resistance, certainly not murder. It would take a great deal of control and effort to do this under its influence."

"You know of this drug?"

The human guard sneered. Yes, and it had a long line of victims. "Yes, it is something some nobles carry around. Mostly to use on servants. It is highly frowned upon by the king and those loyal to him, but we have more pressing matters of war and goblins to address it properly."

"There must be something. Glorfindel cannot be executed for a crime against a man who has been wronging us for so long, and sentencing him to a worst location than the cell we are already in may end in the same results. He is still weak Boromir, and the blade's darkness so pronounced."

Boromir nodded. He understood this. Gimli, though not his personal friend, had kept him rather informed. If he had known the course of events these elves would have caused, he would never have brought them in to the king and certainly not have captured them. His fingers went to his temple, rubbing them slowly. He was responsible for this. It was his duty to protect all those in the castle, including prisoners. "Tell me this, it was forced right. You never consented to Saruman's advances?" When Elrond did not respond quickly, the human turned to him again.

The two elves were embracing each other, speaking softly to one another in their own tongue no doubt.

The grey eyes then looked to him. "Saruman threatened to poison Glorfindel if we did not cooperate. He said it could be easily done and no one would suspect a thing or believe me. This time around, he wanted more from us."

Boromir narrowed his eyes. If  he hadn't felt a bit sick at the moment, he would have voiced his disgust more elaborately. "The slime. Well there is only one solution for this. I will take full responsibility." He held his hand up to silence objections. "I will tell Aragorn that I was passing by when I heard strange noises. When I ventured up, I found the door ajar and found him kneeling over you. I thought he was strangling you so I took the candlestick and stabbed him. Now come, we need to get Glorfindel to Gandalf to make certain this drug has no adverse affects on elves. Dress him and support him, try to act normal."

It took a few minutes to situate everyone, but eventually the trio made it down the halls and past surprised residents to the wizards room.

Gandalf looked up from his scroll, regarding them silently before standing and closing the door behind them.

At first, Boromir had no intentions of telling Gandalf the truth of the situation, and started with his lie he hoped to sell to Aragorn. The wizard, however, was far more observant and it didn't help that when Glorfindel spoke as the drug was counteracted by another. That, and killing with a candlestick while Boromir clearly had a sword in his sheath made no sense. This all lead to the whole truth, and a great deal of silence.

Elrond spoke first. "Gandalf, you must believe us. This was not our intentions. We had no desires to kill Saruman."

Gandalf tipped his hat back a bit. "I seriously doubt that. At least one of you desired to kill him a great deal. But none of that matters, Saruman is dead and Aragorn will demand answers and circumstances. Still, even that is minor compared to the recent discovery."

"Gandalf! How can you think of research now? Aragorn's wish to bed Legolas is nothing..."

The wizard scowled at Boromir quickly. "Bah, I would not have bothered at all if that would be the only result. Those two can play their games on anothers time. No, this is about facing and defeating evil. This is about keeping Sauron from gaining even more power and destroying all that is good." He pulled at his beard now. "Which brings me back to my original statement. When, Boromir, did you start hearing these elves and with no pain?"

Boromir blinked. "What?" He voiced the words even though he found himself answering that question. Elrond had written his first plea of help, the rest had been verbal. And really, the only thing he felt now was a bit nauseated. "I wasn't thinking of it. It just sort of happened."

Gandalf nodded. "Yes, yes I suppose it would. That was the answer all along wasn't it." It wasn't really a question. "One must only accept that one can speak to the elves and it happens. That is why I and Saruman could hear them, and Gimli. It never occurred to me that I could not. And this spell was to affect humans not dwarves." He smiled a bit. "Perhaps it is an illusion then, no real sorcery at all."

Glorfindel sighed heavily. "That does us no good now. I have killed a man, and there will be consequences."

"Yes, indeed there will be. I hate to do it, but it is for the best. We will hide this evidence then. Boromir, I will leave that to you. Once Aragorn is able to hear those involved fully, then we will present the problem at hand."

Elrond hesitated. "What of Saruman's absence?"

"Leave that to me."

And so the two elves, man, and wizard began to work on their own form of deception, without Gimli this time.

Love and Obsession
Part 2 - Posted 01/14/03

Aragorn at the table in silence, sipping the sweet onion soup as the servants pulled them both some wine. Though the royal tailor expressed a great deal of displeasure in working with the elf, she had done a rather stunning job. Legolas’ blue shirt was a close match to those heavenly blue eyes he adored, and the white undershirt a pearl white and loose fit. Of course there were hints of green and brown leaves about the collar and wrists which reflected the sort of scheme the elf had originally shown up in. The leggings were not nearly as impressive, but then again, she only had time to do so much to begin with. Today was a fitting after all, and from there he expected great things. Oh how he longed to hear a few words from this one, to hear more than a couple of syllables before the overwhelming sensation of pain. The human king smiled, watching the flawless youthful face brighten at the light pleased gesture. It was clear, Legolas thought highly of his opinion and reactions, which made his spirits sore. Clearing his throat, Aragorn spoke. “I have decided that tonight, Elrond and Glorfindel will receive their room. It is being prepared as we speak. I want you all comfortable here even if I cannot allow you to leave. For your own safety and the safety of my kingdom, you must remain here. I hope you understand Legolas,” he purred the name in his head but did it reflect in his voice?

Legolas nodded a light smile gracing his features as he sipped his wine.

It was a difficult thing to eat dinner with the person of his desire unable to enter the conversation. It was frustrating, infuriating and yet he had to be patient. Gandalf was working on the solution, and even if during their most private moments, when they were so close that their breaths mingled, he could hear without pain, it had to be a flaw in the spell and no real solution. “I have been wondering Legolas, if it would be against your wishes to merely kiss?”

The light haired elf blushed beautiful and shook his head quickly.

The human king merely smiled and continued eating, ignoring the expectant expression on his would be lover’s face. “I see. That is good to know.” His reward was a swift scowl. Oh how he loved the spirit, the fiery emotions. If he had not thought Gimli would only be in the way, he would have summoned the dwarf so they could speak. After all, it was Gimli who had relayed the information to him in the beginning, including this youthful immortal being’s demands. Demands indeed. What a sight he must have been when he was told. It was unbelievable at first, but Legolas’ refusal to further their exploration beyond kissing was clear. Aragorn only hoped that there was more than a political reason behind the declaration. There was no doubt that this prince of elves would give himself to Aragorn as promised, but he wanted more than a willing bed partner, he wanted everything and aimed to have it in the end.

Legolas suddenly stood as dinner was brought out, shaking his head a bit as he began his escape to the door to his small room, which was a large closet but two weeks ago.

“Legolas,” Aragorn voiced calmly.

The blonde elf turned to him, the annoyance and displeasure clear in the blue eyes. It really wasn’t fair since Aragorn could do all the speaking, but he was not the one who kept them apart after all. “Sit, dinner has only begun. It is rather rude to leave another at the table alone, and the cook prepared this with you in mind.”

Legolas frowned a moment and then returned to his seat, his fingers tapping the silverware lightly as the Cornish hens, spiced with honey and vinegar were put before them. They were coupled with cinnamon spiced apples, berry tarts, and roasted nuts. The servants took their soup bowls and left the two alone.

Aragorn watched the elf pick at the food a bit with a broadening frown. Surely the food was not so bad. He ate a few pieces himself, quite pleased with the flavor and general texture. Then, he thought a moment. “Legolas is it that we cannot talk that has you in poor spirits or the food.”

The beautiful blue eyes lifted to meet his gaze. Aragorn was about to retract his question when he realized that it could not be answered easily when the elven prince smiled a moment and ate a spiced apple.

“It is our lack of communication then,” Aragorn voiced, troubled himself.

The elf nodded though it was not necessary. There was no simple answer to the dilemma, not when they wanted to keep things private and when neither could write the other’s language, though the elves could speak it fairly well.

“Aaah, the silence is most deafening in here.”

“I stated this was to be a private...” The human king’s voice trailed off as he witnessed the wizard Gandalf enter their room.

The thick eyebrows rose slightly and the eyes regarded him curiously. “I see. One would think that you would wish to hear the news I have for you, but of course it can wait till the morrow. It is not nearly as pressing as the silence you have here.”

Aragorn was not pleased at the light mockery nor at Legolas’ amusement of the display. “Very well, what have you to say, and be quick with it.”

“I believe we may have solved the riddle of this accursed spell. Boromir has had success in listening to our elven guests.”

Both Legolas and Aragorn leaned forward excitedly.

“However,” Gandalf continued after a moment. “It is a not an easy task to undertake and...”

“If Boromir can do it than I certainly can. Gandalf, out with it. I must have this cure.”

Gandalf shook his head. “Sadly, it is not so simply and it is my belief that the spell is stronger on you than anyone here.”


“Of course, who better to poison than the leader of the lands? The ignorant are more easily controlled after all.”

Aragorn frowned. “Tell me then.”

Gandalf nodded and called out. “Bring her here.”

A serving lady entered with a young child, a girl of red locks and alluring green eyes. She was the child of one of the guards, if Aragorn recalled correctly. In her palm was a small white daisy.

“Here we are.”

“A daisy, surely you jest!”

“Silence Aragorn. Do not make a fool of yourself. This is simply test and I believe it will be successful. In fact, I will stake my life on it.” The wizard dismissed the serving lady and addressed the child. “Legolas is the one at the end of the table child, the one with the light hair.”

A bright smiled formed on the girl’s face as she moved over there and jumped in the elf’s lap. With a gleeful laugh, she put the daisy in the elf’s hair. “Pretty,” she declared.

Legolas was clearly puzzled and a bit surprised but smiled readily as he seemed to marvel at the child of humans.

Gandalf cleared his throat. “Are you not going to say thank you Legolas. Is the gift not worthy?”

The blue eyes regarded the wizard hesitantly with a frown, but the wizard merely gazed back at him, hard.

Legolas was silent for a few moments and then he spoke. “You are most kind child.”

The girl beamed. “Not Child Gloria.”

“Ah, Gloria it is then. Thank you.”

The girl nodded and blushed shyly before dropping down from his lap and running away.

Legolas smiled again and turned to Aragorn. “Did you see that. She understood...” His voice trailed off in dismay.

Aragorn, who had been watching the scene with growing wonder and excitement, now sat stiffly in his chair, his knuckles white from gripping the table tightly as the pain of even the quiet chatter raced through his veins.

“I don’t understand,” Legolas began but fell silent when the human king’s fist slammed against the table.

“Enough Legolas!” He could hold the growing anger back no further and feared for the safety of his desire. After a few moments of silence, his pulse slowed and he relaxed. “I am sorry Legolas. The agony is great still.” His dark gaze turned to Gandalf. “What has happened? Why can this child understand his words and receive no pain and not I.”

Gandalf sighed wearily. “It is as I feared. She can understand because she does not know she is not suppose to. The spell is an illusion. It was cast with no real effect. Then the enemy circulated rumors about this spell and what it does so that those who listened believed that when they came across an elf and heard the words, there would be pain. Because they believe it to be so, it is.”

“But you said Boromir can understand them, can hear them?”

“Yes, his mind was so preoccupied with other thoughts, other emotions that when the elf spoke to him, he forgot about the pain, or more correctly, to expect the pain. Now the spell has released him. Not entirely, of course, but the sickness he feels after speaking to an elf should fade.”

“So I have to believe that there will be no pain and then there will be none?” It sounded absurd. Impossible even.

His old friend nodded. “Precisely. The times before when you heard Legolas speak and felt no pain, you were, preoccupied in some way, greatly so.”

“But the spell did not release me then?”

“No, because you are an intended target. I suspect the rest of the kingdom is not as strongly influenced as you.”

Aragorn stood. “I cannot believe this Gandalf. What you say is like no other spell recorded in history. I wish a second opinion. Go, fetch me Saruman. I wish to hear his view on your discovery.”

Gandalf eyed him a moment. “I apologize. It seems you were not told. Saruman has departed in search of more information about...”

“Without my leave. That is damn odd of him and unacceptable. Go, send a troop to find and bring him back. This is far too important.”

Gandalf nodded. “I would do just that if I thought we could find him. He has left alone to parts unknown. Where would you have me send the riders. East, North, South and West in the hopes of tracking him down?”

Aragorn scowled. “That is so unlike Saruman. You are right, of course Gandalf. I will have to wait until he returns.

Legolas motioned Gandalf to him, and the two spoke in whispers briefly before the wizard addressed the human king again.

“It would seem,” Gandalf began. “That your guest would like to see you in your chambers.” The grey wizard hesitated then, clearly finding the rest of the message awkward at best. “Apparently he has proclaimed that you shall not have him while you are under the spell but that if you are willing, the elven prince would gladly entertain himself with you at his mercy...”

Aragorn listened to the words, caring not that his old friend spoke something so intimate at all. The possibilities that came to mind were all rather pleasing though the human king was not certain he wanted to give the elf, no matter how beloved to him, free reign over his person. to give Legolas that much power. Still, they had waited so long and a solution did not seem near. “Very well Legolas. After dessert. I will join ‘you’ in my chambers.” He emphasized you to let the other know he understood the full implication of the request.

Gandalf cleared his throat. “Well then, I will look to the others and continue my research.”

Aragorn waited for the wizard to leave before having dessert served immediately. He ate the cream pie leisurely despite his growing anticipation. Legolas was willing to become intimate despite their setback, and even though he could not take the elf as he wished, something would surely ensue. Right?

*Aragorn’s Chambers Again*

Legolas paced back and forth, his nervousness rising as he continued to wait for the human king to join him. Apparently two nobles had begun a feud over uncertain land lines and it required Aragorn to make them believe his steward’s decision. It gave the elven prince a chance to breathe and plan out the nights activities though the prolonged length began to take its toll. The light haired elf could scarcely believe Aragorn had agree to it, an event almost as unbelievable as Gandalf’s discovery. With Saruman gone, and Boromir’s and Gandalf’s ability to hear them, their future seemed brighter. Now all he had to do was break the hold on Aragorn.

With almost trembling hands, the Prince of Mirkwood loosed his garments and put on a robe of white and silver. He then filled a nearby tan ceramic wash basin with hot water and light cloth, and placed them near the bed. His careful fingers lit a few scented candles which he placed strategically around the room. Gaining Aragorn’s attention and trust would be that much more difficult without the human being able to see him. Legolas then took a seat on the bed to await his lord.

Aragorn entered with an obvious scowl, his temperament clearly foul as he even glared at Legolas. The gaze gave the elf instant doubts though he pressed it aside, standing as the human neared. If Aragorn noticed the elf’s light preparations, he made no indication as he sat on the bed and removed his boots.

Legolas took heart and moved forward, his hand tenderly touching the warm skin of the human king as his fingers moved over the hard muscle to the tiny hairs at the back of Aragorn’s neck. His massage began light, tender as he felt the other begin to relax.

“I must warn you Legolas. This had best not be a trick of some kind. I have given you my word to control myself but don’t think that means I will take kindly to testing.”

The elven prince smiled quickly, containing his laughter. Aragorn meant to sound menacing, he was sure, but came off a bit sulky.  It did not take a lot of coaxing or even effort from either party to remove the king’s upper garments and boots. Legolas wasted no time and dipped his clean cloth into the hot water, allowing his fingers to marvel at the pleasing warmth before running the damp cloth down the strong back leisurely.

“A bath! Legolas this is not what I had in mind...”

Legolas’ light fingers silenced him slowly. “Shh,” he murmured, more of a sound than any words which did not seem to affect his would be partner negatively. Cloth and fingers traveled over the back, chest, and abdomen  slowly, drawing out slight shivers deepening the human’s breath. Aragorn tried a great deal to hide how such simple movements affected him, and when Legolas placed lips against an exposed shoulder, the king nearly leapt off the bed. This time, the elven prince did laugh, a soft sound that caused an instant scowl of displeasure to the one targeted.


Again, he was able to silence his pursuer with fingers, only this time they dipped down to the belt of this lord’s pants. His graceful fingers moved carefully, opening the buckle and easing the dark garments down, revealing to him a hardness that had began to become obvious even before the exposure. Legolas breathed in deeply, his blue eyes wide as he beheld the sheer length and size of this human. It made his nervous, a fact that amused Aragorn who’s own smile reflected in his dark eyes when the elf made the mistake of looking up at them.

They both froze for a moment, and it seemed as if all plans would be tossed aside, words and vows thrown aside so that they could both endure promised pleasures. Instead, Legolas was the one who tore his eyes from the intense gaze and finished removing the rest of Aragorn’s clothes. He paused briefly when he felt the human’s palm on his shoulder. Briefly he wandered if Aragorn would take him anyway and go back on his word. Really, in this sort of surrounding, there would be little Legolas could do to stop him. But, Aragorn merely shifted, helping the removal of his garments before going further back on the bed to lay down in his naked glory, the dark mane splayed across the overstuffed pillows. “Now you,” Aragorn voiced lowly, almost as if it were a challenge.

The blonde haired elf paused, considering the request, weighing the possibilities carefully. He nodded then, standing easily and stripping down as if he wore but water that would fall to the ground at command. Then, the elven prince, returned his attentions back to bathing, allowing the other to take some satisfaction from sight alone as he roamed over the rest of the body with the dripping cloth.

Legolas found it very difficult to focus on the task at hand and not allow himself to be affected by their bareness, a fact that clearly disappointed the human king. The elf’s total lack of arousal must have been a discouraging and misleading thing since he was anything but uninterested. Still, he was far older than this fledgling of a man, and could control his mind to disregard their status when his plan was far more important.

Several times he let the hot cloth grace near the hot, hard groin glaring in front of him, and several times he avoided it, drawing a low groan of frustration from Aragorn who appeared to be loosing control very quickly which was a good thing, he hoped. After several minutes and  a deep breath... Legolas brushed the engorged flesh lightly, allowing the cloth to barely grace the dark colored flesh.

That was the last draw it seemed. With a low growl, Aragorn sprang forward to a sitting position, his powerful hand grabbing Legolas’ wrist in a bruising grip. “Enough! No more of this!”

Legolas tried to pull away, his heart fluttering in light fear, but being unable to do so. The anger and desire in the dark eyes that bore into him was far greater than he expected, the passion far more considerable than anticipated. “Would you force me Aragorn? Could you?” he questioned softly, tentatively.

Aragorn threw him, sending the elf sprawling on the floor, his anger swift and strong. “I am no rapist. There is no need for me to force anyone. I could have nearly any man and woman under my rule with but a gesture. I will not participate in your foul game any further.” He turned to the door. “Boromir, come take this prisoner back to the dungeon!”

Legolas scrambled to his feet. “No. Aragorn, you do not understand. My purpose was not test or torture you so. I merely wanted...”

Whack! Aragorn back handed the elf hard and quickly, causing tears of pain to swell in the elf’s eyes. “Your words do not counteract your actions. I would have given you so much; I have wasted enough time as it is.”

The elven prince lifted his hand tenderly to the red tender skin of his left cheek, blinking rapidly in disbelief. “I don’t understand Aragorn,” he forced his voice to remain steady. “Can you not hear me now. Are my words not clear...?” This time the blow was harder, nearly causing the elf to black out. Legolas remained on the floor this time, his blue eyes looking up to meet the hard, cruel gaze of Aragorn’s dark eyes, but not the dark eyes of passion he had seen earlier. They were black, hard, heartless as if alien to the man himself.

Aragorn stepped forward, his hand now balled into a fist and raised to strike.

Legolas closed his eyes and held his arm up in defense, his mind too bewildered, too shocked at what was occurring to put up a proper defense.

The attack never came.

“This is not right,” Aragorn whispered, his fist lowering as his eyes softened. A look of helplessness entered the human’s dark eyes, and it seemed as if the proud shoulder’s sagged a little. “I am sorry Legolas. I understand what you were trying to do... This thing, it is stronger than I.”

The elven prince stood then, slowly his legs a bit shaky, but not out of fear or weakness, merely the overwhelming shock of the situation. He approached Aragorn, without even blinking as he took the hand that had struck him so cruelly earlier and placed it against his lips, kissing the knuckles tenderly.

“I love you Aragorn.” Legolas remained bold and spoke again, in a soft whisper. “You have managed to steal my heart, but I do not know how to make you love me Aragorn, for it is through love that I believe you will defeat this, not passion.”

Aragorn breathed in deeply, his body still tense against the elf’s but he spoke quietly. “I do love you Legolas. I do, and by the gods, I heard you just now, I heard your words... and  they were beautiful.”

Legolas’ heart soared at the words. Though deep in his mind he realized the spell had yet to be broken, defeated, he relished the occurrence. The young elf moved forward then, and pressed his lips against Aragorn’s, his body going lax as the strong arms surrounded him and the king’s will crushed his lips in return.

The prince broke the contact, his fingers traveling over the light stubble the king maintained marveling at the texture as much as the man himself. “Take me to bed Aragorn, for you have heard the words my heart longed to whisper.”

Aragorn nodded, his dark eyes enthralling the blue gems that looked into them. The king picked up the light haired elf, their lips joining as his kneeled on the bed, his bundle tight against the man’s chest.
Legolas moaned softly, his fingers entangling themselves in the dark strands while his body arched against the coarse palm that roamed down his front, grasping his soft yet hardening groin. The strong fingers encircled his pale member, squeezing, stroking the young elf into soft pleasurable gasps.

With one smooth motion, Legolas found himself on his back, pressed against the softness of the bed by the strong man of his heart, the king’s hot lips tasting the tender sensitive regions of his throat. The elven prince trembled, his body awake and eagerly responding to the needs of his beloved, of his captor.

Their hot groins brushed against each other as Aragorn settled himself more comfortably atop his Legolas’ pale, glistening body, the elf’s thighs spreading to accommodate his efforts.

“I do not know that I can hold off long,” Aragorn murmured just before his blissfully hot and moist tongue circled the tiny nubs before him.

Legolas whimpered softly, arching into the caress, pressing his hard member against the length he had enticed earlier, writhing from the contact. “I do not wish you to.”

Aragorn humped against his body a few times firmly, his fingers gliding down Legolas’ sides leaving a passionate tingling feeling in their wake as the settled against his hips, grasping the elf tightly and lifting him a bit off the bed. “If you have doubts Legolas, now is the time,” he murmured.

The blonde elf turned his head to the side, the cool pillow caressing his cheek as he breathed his soft reply. “None.”

Prolonged anticipation felt worse than any true pain, which he new was to come. Legolas had had his share of elven lovers, but Aragorn was a man, larger in all ways, and harder, an appeal that excited and impassioned his very being.

One hand loosed his hips, drawing a disappointed sigh from the light lover. Perhaps Aragorn had doubts or he was getting his revenge for having to wait so long. His blue eyes turned to Aragorn, as the free hand stroked his cheek warmly. “I wish to see your beautiful eyes Legolas, as I claim you.”

Legolas’ heart beat loudly in his pointed ears, his breath caught in his throat as he regarded the dark eyes peering down at him, the sheer beauty of the man breath taking and ominous. “Stake your claim,” he voiced without thought, without hesitation.

Aragorn’s heated length pressed against his entrance, seeking and finding welcome.

The elven prince gasped, his fingers moving to the strong harms that held him and grasping him tightly as the impossible width stretched him greatly, easing into the hot haven. Aragorn’s demanding lips captured his.

Their tongues met in a light dance as their bodies joined together and began to move. The hot length nestled inside him, sent the elf into a heavenly bliss, his body rocking eagerly against the intruder. Aragorn thrust into him repeatedly, deeply, his sacs bouncing lightly of his pale rump. The human king rode him steadily

“Harder,” Legolas murmured. His eyes squeezed as Aragorn complied the penetration impossibly deep and pleasurable.  The elven prince trembled then, light trickles of tears escaping his lashes though they were welcomed.

Aragorn kissed the wetness tenderly even as his body continued to plow his offered desire, the strong hands gripping the elf powerfully as he rocked the bed with their union.

Legolas held back no longer, his voice filling the room and the halls as he cried out beautifully, his glistening body grasping onto his love desperately as Aragorn ground into him feverishly, grunting lowly as he spewed forth his essence, filling his elven desire.

“Aragorn,” he whispered softly as the human withdrew his softening manhood from his aching body. The human grasped Legolas’ engorged member stroking a few times firmly, carefully until the pale length twitched and released its own stored seed.

The human king breathed heavily, rolling to the side, pulling Legolas into a hot embrace.

“Rest my beauty, we will break this spell together.”
Boromir sighed and walked away from the door, glad he decided to await busting through the door and dragging Aragorn’s beloved to the dungeons. Well, partially glad, it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to experience outside the door either. Shaking his head, the head guard ventured back to his chair to rest and watch.
Elrond smiled lightly as the servants helped them into their new room, his fingers running over the oaken chairs and bed posts briefly before he turned and took Glorfindel’s hand. The room was impressively large housing one large bed with draperies of light green and tan. A rug of similar colors with added roses and their vines weaved into its texture covered much of the open space.  The table and chairs were finely stained and polished, already sporting silver serving ware with fresh fruits and iced wine. Double doors led to a wide balcony and tucked behind a tall screen lay the baths. “This is very nice Glorfindel. Come, this will ease your mind.”

The golden haired elf said nothing and went to the bed, laying down with his back turned toward the dark haired lord.

The Lord of Rivendell sighed, moving next to his lover, his fingers gliding through the silky hair. “All will be well, you will see. Light will prevail here.” Elrond received no response, still he bent forward and kissed his lover’s temple. “Come, let us bathe.”

“I do not wish it,” Glorfindel whispered. “Allow me to rest here in peace.”

“And await a death that is not to be, I will not.” Elrond stood, pulling his lover to his feet. “If I must fight you every step of the way, so be it.”

The sea green eyes turned to Elrond, the light nearly vanished from the globes. The elven warrior, however;  nodded, and followed his lord to the warm bath prepared for them.

The set up was marvelous with stone steps leading into the waist high steaming water, a wonderfully light aroma of petals arising with the heat. Elrond Disrobed, ignoring the light traces of blood that still clung to body as he pulled Glorfindel forward, easing his fellow elf of his soiled garments.

Glorfindel hissed as he was lead into the hot water, Elrond too finding the heat rewarding and disarming. His grey eyes turned to his dispirited warrior and embraced him. His heart lifted to feel Glorfindel relax in his arms, the tension easing away as their naked bodies pressed together.

The silence remained unbroken for several minutes as he merely stroked Glorfindel’s lovely strands, willing his own assurance to enter Glorfindel, praying that it would.

“Do you know,” his lover began, “much of Gondor justice? Is it swift or... or do they prolong the experience as do he denizens of Mordor?”

“Do not fret over such things for it will not be. It will not be.” Elrond voiced almost angrily, his frustration and determination evident.

Glorfindel rested his cheek against Elrond’s shoulders, his lips pressing lightly against his lover’s throat. “I... I do not fear death, but their are certain ends that frighten me. Never did I dream that this would happen again... so soon.”

“Tell me,” Elrond encouraged, his fingers running up and down the strong moist back leisurely.
When the golden haired elf complied, it stirred his heart for his lover was very adamant about omitting any references to his past life. Although he desperately wanted to know about such a rare occurrence, it troubled him for perhaps it was, for Glorfindel, but a confession before the end.

“I remember very little of those times, of that age. In the end, there was heat, unbearable heat that I thought would burn me, but it did not. Such a terrible creature of darkness...” The soft voice was barely audible and hesitant. “When we fell, I remember great fear. Those brief moments of falling seemed so long and I dreaded the pain... I do not recall the pain itself, but the fear... it still haunts me.”

Elrond’s fingers gripped Glorfindel’s chin firmly, forcing his lover to face him. “There will be no pain for there will be no end. You will not part from this world without me Glorfindel, and I’ve not the notion to die just yet.” He smiled weakly, allowing his own humor to settle his beating heart.

Glorfindel returned the smile, the desire to believe glistening in his eyes.  “Make love to me my lord, so that I may hold onto a memory far more precious to me than any other.”

Elrond’s lips brushed against the others, his grey eyes closing as he spoke. “I will give you this memory only to treasure until the next time and for the time after that.” His fingers trailed over the strong shoulders, entangling themselves in the moist golden strands as they grasped Glorfindel’s neck firmly, pulling his lover into a a more passionate, demanding kiss.

The two elves moved together, merely pressing their strong yet lithe forms together, relishing the moist contact.

The golden haired elf’s fingers trailed down Elrond’s chest, tracing his hardening nubs and sending a gentle thrill through his veins that settled down in his groin. “Take me,” his lover began. “As you did our first time here.”

His grey eyes at his lover’s closed eyes, his lips pressing against the quivering lids as his fingers held his elven warrior firmly in place. “From behind?” he whispered.

“Yes,” came the breathy reply.

Elrond captured Glorfindel’s lips, greedily plundering the depths of his beautiful lover’s mouth as his fingers entwined themselves in the golden mass, grasping the strands tightly. “Very well,” he whispered. The dark haired elf pulled his lover’s head back sharply, relishing the gentle gasp that was his reward as his lips pressed against the tender region of the blonde’s throat. “Turn for me,” he commanded quietly.

Glorfindel trembled delicately and turned once his lord’s grip loosened. His smooth back trembling beautifully as Elrond’s fingers traveled down its strength.

The Lord of Rivendell stepped forward, his fingers now gripping the elven warrior hips as he pulled them together abruptly, his hard groin wedged between them. “Easy,” he murmured as his tongue traced the sharp slopes of the light pointed ears before him.

“Please my lord....” Glorfindel whimpered sweetly, pressing back against his lover. “Make me forget this day, let it wash away in this water, in our passion.”

Elrond nipped at the tip of the light pointed ear gently. “When I am with you, there are no others,” he replied, his fingers traveling over the firm hard muscle pressed against him. “Relax, be with me think of nothing else.”

Glorfindel nodded after a moment. “As you wish...”

“As we wish,” he remarked tenderly, easing his hard length in between the heat offered to him. He nearly trembled from the intensity as his member embedded itself in the wondrous haven. His golden haired lover lifted his arms, reaching back and grasping his dark strands while Elrond’s lips dropped to the smooth shoulders. The elven lords fingers traveled up his light haired lover’s chest, tweaking the tiny nubs and feeling the tremble of the strong body as it clamped around him tightly, and moved against his slick body.

Elrond began to thrust for deeply, slowly, one hand dropping down to Glorfindel’s hips again to guide their movement, encourage compliance.

“Harder... please,” Glorfindel whispered.

“No, my love. Escape in us, not the moment.” He replied.

Glorfindel pressed into the thrusts, not urgently, but gently, a coaxing delightful motion that sent ripples of pleasure racing through the Lord of Rivendell’s veins. He complied, moving deeper and that much faster, kissing away the moisture stemming from the corners of his lover’s eyes. “Keep your hands around my neck,” he commanded, somehow finding rational thought through the cloud of passion. He then shifted his hands, running across the tight abdomen and exploring the small blonde forest before grasping the straining hardness further below.

A small gasp sounded from his lover as his long strong fingers trailed over the silky smooth flesh, feeling it move beneath his caress.

“Elrond,” the blonde breathed deeply, as the finger tips traveled over the glistening tip tenderly.

The two elves moved together, the slight sound of moving water couple with their panting filling their new chambers. Elrond closed his grey eyes, allowing the sensation of their union to cloud his mind.

“It’s not long now my love,” he murmured, his hot breath against his lover’s ear causing his beautiful lover to writhe against him.

True to his word, Elrond gripped Glorfindel firmly, implanting himself deep inside the moving body as he spewed for his seed, capturing the soft cry with his own lips.

Glorfindel continued to moan thrusting his hips forwards, the hot flesh moving easily between Elrond fingers. His breathing quickened.

“No my love, not yet.” Elrond teased gently. His free hand drifted through the golden strands lovingly. “I wish to see you when you come.”

Glorfindel drew in quivering breaths, withdrawing from his lover’s proximity as Elrond’s member softened. He turned, the sea green eyes clouded with desire.

Elrond drew him closer, their chests pressing together as his fingers moved down between them, grasping the hard organ tightly. His grey eyes locking onto the glisten globes. “Now,” he murmured.

Glorfindel’s eyes closed slowly, his body trembling as the white essence covered his palm and lower region.

He smiled brightly. “Beautiful. Now perhaps we ought to finish our cleansing.”

The sea green eyes opened, but they were far from filled with amusement. “This is  all my fault.”

Elrond stroked flushed cheeks, damp with water and tears. “No...”

“It is. Had I not been harmed, the human’s never would have encountered us...”

Elrond took a moment and rinsed their body before lifting his lover easily into his arms, leaving the water and ignoring the cold that his wet body ensued. “As I said, you tried to save me and I would not depart from your side were there tens of Ringwraiths upon us. Your sacrifice may have brought us here, and in turn, caused us to discover the source of our conflict with the humans.”

He knelt on the bed, placing his wet lover on the sheets. His fingers ran through the moist hair gently as he smiled. “There is hope, not only in our situation but for our people, for all of Middle Earth. Had we not come here, all that may have been missed.”

Elrond laid beside him, pulling his damp love against him. “Rest Glorfindel. For I will watch over you.”

Glorfindel closed his eyes easing into his lord’s embrace. “I will be stronger for you my lord...”

“Shhh...” Elrond murmured. “You are strong for I draw my strength from you.”

-Please let me Know what you think-  Paladin

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