26. Extending The Spell
Completely A.U. Legolas slave fic. This story was inspired by Bluegolds story "Bound", which can be found here: http://daemel.freespaces.com/authors.html#blue
I use similar plot ideas here with her permission.
Betareader: Many thanks to Surreysmum, who polished this and made it so much better! All still remaining errors are my own.
Warnings: Slash. M/m, BDSM, d/s, torture, toys, non-con and debatable consent. Very graphic descriptions.
Special warnings for this chapter: gang-rape; foursome (two Men and a Dwarf with one hapless Elf). I mean it! If you do not want to read this, you might try skipping this chapter and read on with chapter XXV, "Repercussions"; there it should be safe to read again. Please heed the warnings!
Disclaimer: Universe and characters are not mine, but Tolkien's. The idea of the spell, however, belongs to me.
Guide: Occasionally I work with flashback scenes. Here is a Guide:
// /flashback/ //; ************Time change within a flashback***********; "speech"; 'thoughts'
For all other warnings, other disclaimers and author's notes see Story Intro.
XXIV. Extending the Spell
It took them barely an hour to set up camp, gather firewood, build a small fire, divide the watches and have Sam start to prepare some dinner. They were just a fortnight from Rivendell and had not yet met any hints of spies from the enemy, and so they deemed themselves reasonably safe, but it would never do to be unwary. Still, the first watches would belong to Gandalf and the Hobbits this night, for the warriors of their little group had other things to do.
While they prepared their bedrolls and their camp, Aragorn constantly felt Frodo's eyes on him. The Ring Bearer watched the Ranger with a mixture of new wariness and barely hidden horror.
Legolas turned up to add some more firewood to their small stock and take one of the blankets. Aragorn shook his head and said something in Sindarin, and the Elf looked up at him a bit startled, but then only bowed at him obediently. He took another blanket from the pack and vanished behind the bushes and the boulder that separated the two sites of the camp.
Finally Frodo found his courage and approached the Ranger.
"Do you really think it wise to separate the camps, ...Strider?" he said carefully. "Two camps will be harder to guard."
Aragorn was busy sorting through his medicine pack. He gave the Hobbit a veiled look. There was more to this, he knew, but he decided to wait until Frodo was ready.
"It is just for the evening," he said. "When we are finished with the ... ceremony, we will all come to this side."
Frodo flinched and looked down to his feet.
"It... It's not right!!" he finally blurted out. "I watched Legolas all day. He is scared! And to force him to offer himself like this... to people he doesn't want... How can this be right!?"
Aragorn sighed. He left his pack alone and knelt beside the Hobbit. "Frodo," he began, "I know this must seem horrible to you and must be quite a shock. But it is necessary for Legolas' protection. Boromir is right! I do not like it, and I hate to put Legolas through this, but he has a point. This is a dangerous quest. Legolas is bound to me. Should I die or be grievously wounded, his life would be in danger. It is important that his survival does not completely depend on me!"
He made a face.
"Yet I regret deeply now that I did not do it sooner. I should have told all of you about a week or so after we left Rivendell, and after I made sure that Boromir and Legolas performed some sparring matches together and encountered each other as warriors. Then I could have told the Fellowship about Legolas' predicament without them ever learning that he is not only bound to me because he is a hostage and under the spell, but is indeed my slave and property as well. We could have pretended that aside of his dependence he submits himself to me and follows my command out of his own free will."
Frodo wrinkled his brows. He frowned. "Why should you have wished to do that?" he asked. "Why did you wish to hide he is a slave?"
Aragorn gazed over to Boromir and Gimli.
"Because of Boromir!" he said quietly. "He is all too taken with his pride and station. He has never seen Legolas fight, has never seen his fierce deadliness in any battle, and never came to owe him his life several times over, as do I. He just sees his beautiful face and his lithe body and desires him, and he just sees him as a slave and bed toy now. And he disdains him for that." He shook his head. "And that Dwarf will not forsake any chance to harass and torment the Elf, now he knows him unable to fight back."
Frodo's frown deepened. "Until now Legolas has not seemed helpless against Gimli's scorn and attempts to harass him to me," he said. "I seem to remember him quite capable of holding his own."
Aragorn snorted. "Yes, he was!" he said, "Because he knew the Dwarf had no call to harass him and I allowed him to fight back. But now? Now that Gimli knows Legolas is a slave he will no longer accept any words of disdain, any mocking or any retaliation by one whom he sees as being of considerably lower station than his own. He is a free Dwarven warrior, after all, and Legolas is but a slave who is permitted to carry weapons. That is the way he will see it now."
He sighed bitterly.
"That is the reason I decided to pretend that Legolas and I were only comrades and lovers when we began this quest, not a master and his slave. But now? Gandalf is right, this cursed spell is evil and nothing good will ever come of it. Yet Legolas is bound to it without escape, and I am bound to make sure he doesn't die from it. And since there is no way to set him free, I have to do anything in my power to ensure his survival, even if it means putting him through this accursed ... ritual ... again."
He looked away. Without another word he turned back to his pack, gathered a few things and stood up.
"Excuse me, Master Hobbit," he said courteously and grimly, "it is time!" And with that he signaled Boromir and Gimli to follow him, took his heavy water skin and some cloth and left the main camp through the bushes to the smaller one.
___________________ o _________________
Legolas shivered. He waited for them in the other camp, kneeling on a blanket he had spread on the grassy ground. He had already discarded his weapons, which rested neatly some distance apart yet still in easy reach. A few steps away from the blanket he had built a small fire, with some firewood resting beside it, and on one side of the blanket rested a small, empty bowl and a pestle. His head was bowed and he did not look up as his master and his two companions entered the clearing.
Aragorn stepped close and squatted down before him. Gently he touched his cheeks, his sensitive ears, then traced the neck down to his shoulders. Finally he tipped his chin up and kissed him.
"Don't be scared," he whispered to him, "Trust me!"
Then he let him go and commanded a bit louder: "Undress."
Swallowing, the Elf bowed his head again and began slowly to take off his clothes. The vambraces came first, then the tunic and shirt. All clothes were folded neatly and set beside his weapons. Finally, he slipped out of his boots, leggings and the loincloth that he wore around his groin. Placing them on the neat bundle of his other clothes, he went back to the blanket and knelt down again in glorious nakedness, head bowed in shame.
It was not Aragorn's presence that had him embarrassed. His master had seen him in every state of nakedness and arousal, and he belonged to him. But to be forced to present himself like this to this other Adan, the man of Gondor, who stood on one side of the fire and devoured him with hungry eyes full of desire, was something completely different. And on the other side of the small fire stood the Dwarf. He watched him with an unreadable expression. Hunger? Hate? Disdain? Legolas did not know and could not discern it. Shivering again, he waited for Aragorn to begin the ritual that would bind him to these two besides his master.
Aragorn stepped in front of him again. He had discarded his weapons and set them beside those of his Elf, and now he carried the small, earthen bowl. He used the pestle to grind something within it. Legolas shuddered at the familiar and hated scent.
Eredh Saew'ador (1)! The main component of the spell that caused his body to produce the deadly poison that would kill him if he was not taken by those who could provide the antidote with their essence. He wondered at the number of seeds Aragorn would use to renew the spell this time. The amount of the poison used would determine how regularly he needed to be taken to avoid growing ill. It would not be less often; there was no way to unravel the tightness of the bond. Unfortunately, there also was no way to extend the spell to others who could give him what he needed without winding it more tightly, either. Whatever the amount of poison Aragorn would use, he would need him more often after this. He began to tremble in earnest.
Aragorn knelt down in front of him. "Shh, melethron," he said in Sindarin, "I will wind it just barely tighter than it is. Trust me! I know this is hard on you, but you can do this, and it's for the best."
Aloud and in Common speech he explained: "This is one of the main components of the spell. It is a plant that causes his body to need us. The number of seeds used will determine how often he needs us to take him. I am using seven seeds. That means he will need to be taken by one of us at least once a week, and possibly more often, before he starts to go into withdrawal. One of us has to lie with him and to give him his essence at least once a week after this night."
He set the little bowl aside, added a few drops of oil and mixed the components carefully to a smooth, bright red paste.
Boromir watched him with interest. "One of us?" he asked, "Or all?"
The Dwarf added, a bit red in his face: "And what do you mean by giving him his essence?"
Aragorn gave him an ironical glance. 'A bit late to play the naive, Master Dwarf!' he thought, but nevertheless he answered: "One of us once a week will be enough to keep Legolas alive after this night, but this is just what he will absolutely need to avoid withdrawal. If he is taken by more of us and more often it will be better for him and improve his health. That is the point of the ritual."
"It causes the victim to get addicted to his master, who abuses him," the Dwarf translated with awed disgust.
Aragorn turned to him. "Exactly, Master Dwarf. And 'giving him your essence' means that you have to spill your seed. Within his body. Like you would take a women of your people."
He knew his words were brutal and crude, but so was the whole ritual. Legolas was completely pale and stiff with fear and anticipation now and Aragorn set the bowl aside and placed a soothing hand on his slave's arm.
Boromir snorted. Gimli was bright red. He muttered something indiscernible, that sounded like "what would you know of our women", but Aragorn wasn't sure. It seemed to him the dear Master Dwarf was having second thoughts already.
Boromir rescued Gimli by asking: "And how, pray, is this ritual done?"
He nodded at the little bowl now resting beside the kneeling Elf.
Aragorn bowed his head. "First I will give Legolas a drug that contains the other component of the spell. Then I will have to insert this paste into his body, and finally, Boromir, we have to take him, one after the other, and give him our essence. This will complete the bond." He gave the man of Gondor a hard stare. "Afterwards, Legolas will need us."
He felt his slave shiver under his hand and said very quietly and in Sindarin: "Hush! Do not fear! This is for your good, Little Leaf. Trust me!"
Legolas held his head bowed and swallowed hard. He was breathing hard and fighting to compose himself, but with little success. Aragorn drew his brows together and started to pet him. Inwardly he cursed himself. He had not realized that Legolas would have such a hard time bearing this.
Behind him, Boromir asked dumbfounded: "That – is all there is to it?"
Distracted and a little annoyed Aragorn snapped: "Yes, Boromir, that is all there is to it, at least to an extension of the spell to others. I suppose there has to be more the first time it is cast! Anyway, this is what we will do. And it is much easier to do it when Legolas is aroused and not frozen and stiff with fear like now. So I suggest you come here and start to get familiar with him!" He felt his slave jerk a little and soothed again: "Shh. Be still. Don't fear! Let him do this!"
Legolas suppressed a sob. Behind him, Aragorn could hear Boromir gasp. "You mean... really?" The Ranger just nodded, not breaking his concentration on his slave, and continued to speak quiet, soothing words in Sindarin.
Boromir swallowed hard and stepped closer. Carefully he knelt down beside the naked Elf, an expression of raw hunger on his face. Astonishingly gently he began to touch the shuddering body, first the arms, then the shoulders, the face, the muscled, flat, well defined and hairless chest. He looked captured in wonder. Very softly his hands moved down at the side of Legolas' body, towards the slightly spread thighs, but he stopped short of the flat, lifeless Elfhood of the shivering slave. Carefully he trailed his hand back up to the bowed head and gently parted the blond mane that covered the face, small intricate braids and all, and tucked it back behind the Elf's shoulders and his ears. He discovered the Elf was weeping. Guilt kindled within his soul and nagged at his conscience. Obviously, the slave did not enjoy the experience. Yet some other part of him, located closer to his groin, was eagerly assuring him that everything was all right. After all this Elf was just a pleasure slave and accustomed to sharing his body. And Aragorn had offered, had he not? And he had said the Elf may even need this...
Boromir was a hard and proven warrior who was not shy to take what he felt was his due, but in bed he preferred gentleness. And yet he felt that by now it was far too late to back out again. So he decided to be as gentle as he could.
"Shh, don't be afraid," he said, "I won't hurt you!" He regretted he could not say it in Elvish, since Aragorn continued to murmur quietly in that tongue, but after all the Elf normally spoke and understood Common well enough.
Carefully wiping the tears away with his thumbs, he placed his lips on the enticing ones of his partner, kissing, then licking along them and tasting their softness. Under his lips, the slave obediently opened his mouth and Boromir tasted sweetness. Meanwhile, his fingers explored the delicate, pointed ears and wondered at their form. He traced one of the ears, following the leaf-like shape, and felt how Legolas caught his breath and leaned into his touch. He grinned. So this was the secret of how one aroused an Elf! Experimentally, he petted the captured ear a bit more between his fingers and felt the lithe body react to his touch. He kissed the Elf once more, deep and demanding, then he let him up for air and moved on to the ear, licking and exploring it with his tongue, and finally he started to nibble. Legolas flinched, then he whimpered softly and started to stammer words in his own melodic Elven tongue which Boromir could not understand. But he understood the tone and it did not sound afraid or dismayed now, but rather begging for more.
Aragorn had long since moved away and left him the place in front of the Elf. Boromir used the opportunity to move close and hug the lithe body to himself. One of his hands trailed over the well defined shoulder blades and followed the curve of the spine down to the small of the back, finally exploring and massaging the tight muscled cheeks of the ass; the other hand trailed down at Legolas' front, followed the lines of his chest and found one of the delicate nipples.
Boromir gave up teasing the ear and licked down the slender neck of the Elf, kissing and nibbling along the way. He played with the nipple under his fingers, feeling it harden. Satisfied, he stopped caressing the sensitive body part and his hand trailed further down between Legolas' thighs and finally touched his groin.
To his satisfaction, he found the slender member had stirred with arousal and was now at least half erect. Gently, but firmly, he began to touch and massage it. A word from Aragorn, who was by now standing beside the Elf, and the slave opened his thighs further apart, giving Boromir better access. Then Aragorn was at the other side of the Elf, concentrating his attentions on Legolas' other ear.
By now the Elf was again breathing hard, but now it was obviously with arousal. Boromir felt the slender member under his fingers slowly grow and fill out. He stole another kiss, and this time he was hungrily welcomed, finding the mouth and tongue of the slave eager to play.
Then Aragorn was beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing him gently away.
Aragorn took a small skin, uncorked it and held it to Legolas' lips. "Drink!" he commanded quietly in Common Speech, "Three sips!"
Legolas was back to shivering again, but he obeyed. Aragorn counted, then he wound the mouth piece away and corked the skin up again. He set it aside, leaned close and kissed his Elf deeply.
Legolas shrank back and tried to turn his mouth away, then he said something in Elvish and tried to escape Aragorn's grip of his face. Aragorn seized his chin and held him firmly in place. He shook his head and said something in the same language, then he claimed the Elf's mouth again with his own. Legolas gave up and opened for him obediently.
Aragorn savored the kiss, then he signaled Boromir to continue his attentions and went back to lick and nibble at one of Legolas' ears. Boromir saw that he had seized the small bowl and brought it around to the Elf's backside. Aragorn coated one of his fingers with the paste and brought it to Legolas' entrance.
Legolas flinched and gasped as a finger with the burning paste touched his opening. His instinctive reaction was stopped by a sharp bite to his ear and a hard hand on his shoulder. He gasped.
"Be still!" Aragorn commanded. "Lean forward!"
The Elf obeyed, but he was shuddering. Aragorn told Boromir: „Hold him fast. This will hurt!"
Boromir was stunned. „Hurt him? Why?" he asked. "He is eager with desire, now!"
Aragorn looked grim. "The paste will burn," he said, "and I have to place it deep inside. I will have to use my whole hand."
Boromir's eyes widened. He took both shoulders of the Elf and pulled him gently, but determinedly to himself, hugging him close. Then he pressed Legolas' face to his own shoulder and began to mumble gentle nothings into the closest delicate ear, nibbling and kissing, while he held the shivering body firmly in his arms. With morbid fascination he watched as Aragorn inserted first one, then a second finger into the opening of the Elf.
Legolas whimpered and clutched himself to him. He cried with pain, trying to hold still as he had been ordered, but jerking involuntarily at the burning intrusion.
Then suddenly the Dwarf was beside them and took one of the slender hands of the Elf, holding it firmly. His other hand petted gently over the golden hair and found the other ear. His callused fingers explored the delicate form carefully and obviously intrigued.
Legolas felt the familiar fingers of his master intruding into his body. The burning irritant hurt him immensely, but at the same time he was eager for every touch and caress, even for the pain, because of the need caused by the sogo nen anira (2) Aragorn had given him. This drug, the other component of the spell, caused the lasting addiction to his master's touch and the desperate need to be taken. Aragorn had given him three sips, because he was to be bound to three different males. But then Aragorn had kissed him while traces of the poison still lingered in his mouth.
Legolas had tried to warn him, had tried to stop him, but to no avail. Aragorn had insisted. And that meant that he had bound himself to everything he would get of his slave this night: his fear, his lust, his pain, his desperation, his humiliation and his obedient acceptance. Aragorn would desire it all, more than before. Again.
His master would not need to take him to stay healthy or alive; that part of the spell belonged just to the slave. But he would desire the helpless submission and obedience of his Elven slave, his fear and pain, like the most potent drug. And in turn he would be content with no less. It had been Estel's mistake from the start. He had been eager to bind himself as tightly to his Elf as his slave was bound to him, and had never understood that Elrond used this eagerness to twist his desire and strengthen his slightly cruel streak to the point where he could not be satisfied without it.
And now he had done it again. Aragorn would need to be even more cruel to find pleasure in his slave after tonight. Legolas shuddered again, and not only from the pain that burned in his anus. He did not even find the strength to mourn the Estel he had once known - and loved - any more.
He swallowed and clutched himself to the other Adan. The paste burned, and worse yet he felt that Aragorn had kept his ring on when he entered him. The delicate metal of Barahir's ring scratched and sliced him open where it came into contact with his channel, leaving tiny wounds that were aggravated by the paste and burned even more. Legolas muffled his cries and sobs of pain in Boromir's shoulder. He knew it was not mere thoughtless cruelty of Aragorn; the small wounds were necessary to ensure the poison of the paste, and later the essence of the ones who took him, would take hold within the slave's body and blood and the spell would work. At least Aragorn was not using the hideous, specially prepared staff Elrond preferred to use for this. But nevertheless it hurt and Legolas began to cry again.
Then Aragorn withdrew only to enter him again with one more finger and a new amount of paste. Then Aragorn found the gland that was the center of both Legolas' pain and pleasure, and rubbed the burning paste methodically into his slave's sweet spot, slightly slicing it with one of his fingernails to make sure the poison could take hold. Pain and pleasure alike exploded in Legolas' head and he cried out again, then gasped and stiffened. He could hear Aragorn's hard breathing in response and understood. His master would not hurt him with his normal practices in front of the others. Aragorn did not wish them to believe pain was one of the things Legolas needed. But to take him Aragorn had to get aroused, and it was this, his pain and helpless wriggling, that caused his master's desire and arousal.
Then Aragorn added the fourth finger and Legolas started to whimper and try to get away. Boromir held him firmly, and Aragorn laid his hand on the small of his back and commanded hoarsely: "Stop it! Be still! Open up to me! This is necessary for the spell to work, and you know it!"
Legolas gasped and tried to obey, but he couldn't. The ache was just too great, and he screamed as the Ranger drove deeper into him, stretching him and rubbing the burning paste into him as he went. Aragorn commanded harshly and in Sindarin: "Be silent, or I have to gag you!"
Legolas stopped screaming instantly, but he whimpered in pain. Finally Boromir turned his face within his grip to his own and drank the Elf's constant whimpering in a kiss.
Meanwhile, Gimli's hands roamed down from Legolas' hair to his breast and explored the strange, hairless skin. This was the first time he had ever touched an Elf, especially a naked one, and he was curiously fascinated. He found the delicate nipples, hard with arousal, and toyed a bit with them, then he pinched them, hard.
Legolas jerked and gasped, and Aragorn gasped in response. Gimli cast a sharp glance at the Ranger, but was distracted by Boromir, who kissed the whimpering Elf in his arms again and reassuringly petted his shoulders. Gimli's hands trailed down and explored the shivering torso of the Elf, his powerful thighs, and finally the space between them. Curious, he closed his fingers over the member of the Elf, feeling its texture. Legolas' Elfhood had waned a bit under Aragorn's torment, but was still half erect with arousal and need. Gimli explored it carefully. So slim, so different from his own! He squeezed a bit, experimentally, then slowly and carefully began to massage the slave, feeling the member wax again under his attentions.
He did not give in to the brief temptation to cause pain. It was true, he had suggested all of this to humiliate the Elf, but it had turned out to be far more horrible than he ever had imagined. It was one thing to humiliate and harass an equally strong foe with words and pranks, but to outright torment a helpless victim was another. And it was not as if the slave was able to fight back! Yet it was too late for Gimli son of Gloin to back out now. He had brought this dishonor on himself and now he was bound to continue. All he could do was to try not to cause even more suffering, even if the Elf remained strange to him, the son of a hated foe of his family, and an unwanted companion.
Still... the Elf felt curious to his touch, even if his body was hideously hairless and he had no beard. Far too slim and tall to be a beauty, too, to be sure. But he had very nice hair; Gimli admired the golden tresses. Maybe he could indulge a bit if the Elf was truly forced to share some of his nights with him from now. He supposed he could grow to like trying out some new forms of braiding these golden tresses, and it would work to put the Elf into his place quite nicely if he had to wear his hair in Dwarven braiding, too. Gimli did not need to force him to share his body or let himself be raped again after this night.
Nor would he try to make this night's ignoble deed of group rape even more horrible for the victim, even though he was one of the rapists.
Boromir did not pay attention what the Dwarf was doing, although he could feel the shivering body in his arms stiffen a bit and then relax again as Gimli's hands reached the Elf's groin. He watched with horrified fascination as Aragorn withdrew his fingers slowly out of the Elf's body and reached for the last portion of the paste. He felt Legolas shiver in his arms. Boromir was already so hard he could barely move, and his still closed leggings were uncomfortably tight. To his amusement he could see that he shared this state of arousal with his would-be king.
Aragorn swallowed hard. "It is well, melethron, it will soon be over, we are nearly there," he soothed hoarsely in Sindarin, "you will just have to be brave for me another moment. Just a little more!"
Then he took the widened entrance of his Elf again with his fingers. But this time he did not stop but used the whole hand. Legolas gasped again and nearly screamed, but his cry of anguish was caught in Boromir's mouth. He jerked against the Man of Gondor, then gave in and stilled, allowing his master entrance. Aragorn gasped. He could feel the living sheath of his Elf's body closing around him, could feel him shiver and submit, and it made him giddy with desire. His head swam. Legolas' constant, quiet and helpless whimpering of pain and need, interrupted only when Boromir drank it with his kisses, drove Aragorn mad with need. He felt his manhood leak, so erect he feared he would come then and there. He disciplined himself. It would not do to come outside Legolas' body, not while they did this.
Carefully and mindful not to touch himself too much he used his other hand to free his leaking, erect member from the constricting leggings and coated it with oil. He did not use very much; Legolas' entrance was already slick with blood and with the paste and widened enough that he would not hurt him with his member anyway. But still he wished to make this part pleasant for himself, and if possible, even for his slave. This part of the cruel ritual was supposed to be the part of healing.
"Shh," he soothed again in Sindarin, voice hoarse with passion, "Shh, just a few more moments! Feel it! Yes, like this! Soon now, melethron, very soon... brace yourself.. thats it! Now!"
With that he slowly withdrew his hand, holding the body of his slave down with his other hand so he would not jerk, and wriggled out of the hurting and widened passage.
Legolas sobbed and clutched himself to Boromir but tried to hold still. It hurt immensely as his passage was stretched wide again when the main part of his master's hand came out, but then it got better. Then he felt Aragorn's manhood entering him in one, fast thrust, and since he was stretched far beyond its size and the oil lessened the burning of the paste a bit, this brought not pain but relief.
Legolas' passage was far too widened due to the recent abuse for Aragorn to feel much, but it was hardly necessary anymore. He had nearly reached completion anyway, and it took just a few more thrusts for him to come. He climaxed, gasping and shouting Legolas' name. Normally he enjoyed staying within Legolas' body for some time after his climax, but this time he withdrew immediately. Stopping his essence with two fingers from running out, he commanded: "Boromir! Your turn! Now!"
The man of Gondor did not need a second prompting. He let go of the Elven body in his arms, and left him to be supported by the Dwarf; who took over without any comment. Then he changed places with Aragorn. Quickly he freed his manhood of its constrictions and buried himself within the Elf, not even bothering to use any oil.
It was not necessary, though; Legolas' passage was slick with blood, oil, and the paste, and still widened enough not to offer him much resistance. Yet Elven bodies heal quickly, and so the channel had already receded a bit towards its usual size. So it enclosed Boromir a little more tightly than it had enclosed Aragorn, and Boromir felt bliss and the highest pleasure. He stayed his movements for a few moments and gave the passage some more time to adjust, holding his partner close and mumbling sweet nothings into one of his ears. Meanwhile, Aragorn had placed himself in front of Legolas again and took over the supporting part of Gimli, holding his Elf within his arms and murmured soothing endearments in Elvish. Legolas had stopped his whimpering, and slowly he also stopped shivering.
Boromir took that as a good sign. Slowly and at first tenderly, he began to move within his partner's body, then he quickened his pace, mindful of his partner's reactions. He felt the Elf jerk and gasp as he obviously hit the hidden gland. He had had male partners before, not very often and hardly as intense, but enough to read the signs, and so he adjusted his own angle to make sure to give his partner the maximum amount of pleasure, too.
Legolas shouted in surprised pleasure, then his mouth was caught by Aragorn who muffled his noise with a kiss. Aragorn tasted him thoroughly, plundering his mouth and enjoying Legolas' eager and instinctive reaction.
When he finally stopped the kiss and abandoned Legolas' mouth, he busied himself with one of his ears, then moved down to lick along the neck, tasting in his slave's sweat mixed pain and lust, desperation, hopeless submission, and combined trust and fear. It made him giddy and he felt himself getting aroused again. His hands found Legolas' ears and started to massage them, and he could hear Legolas moan. Smiling, he trailed further down. His mouth found a nipple and he busied himself with giving it his full attention, licking, suckling, nibbling until it was hard and red and erect. Then he bit down a bit harder and heard Legolas gasp, but he was mindful not to draw blood. He soothed the offended body part again with his lips and tongue and moved on to the other one, repeating the process. Finally he let his hands trail down and found the Elf's fully erect member. Gently he guided the hand of the Dwarf away and signaled him to ready himself to change places with Boromir. Then he bowed down and took the member of his Elf into his mouth, sucking and teasing just the way he knew Legolas liked it. He concentrated himself fully on giving his Elven slave as much pleasure as he could manage.
Legolas gasped as Boromir climaxed within his body, at the same moment when he himself came within Estel's mouth. He shouted Estel's name and was rewarded when his master's head came up again and took his mouth in a gentle kiss, letting him taste his own essence.
His muddled, fuzzy mind was trying to tell him something, something important, but he could not discern what. He was too caught up in a heady mixture of arousal, hurt and pleasure. Estel let go of his mouth and was replaced by Boromir, who took him with a searing kiss. The man of Gondor finished the kiss, pulled back a little and whispered: "You are beautiful and a wonder. Thank you!"
Dizzy, Legolas wondered at Boromir's gentleness and tender words after his palpable disdain at the beginning of the night, but the thought floated away. The need of the drug still held him in his grip and it was hard for him to concentrate. Then Boromir found himself pushed away by small, callused but surprisingly gentle hands and Legolas felt another body at his back, this one stocky and compact and astonishingly hairy.
Neither Boromir nor Estel had disrobed for him before they took him, and for a moment he was irritated. Then it dawned to him that it had to be the Dwarven beard that caressed his sensitive skin.
"Come, Master Elf," the Dwarf's gravelly voice said, "it is my turn to give you what you need."
Then, without further ado, Legolas found himself seized by small callused hand on his shoulders and entered by a strangely thick and big, well oiled column of male flesh.
Gimli grunted a bit as he buried himself within the bigger body. It was a little awkward, and he decided that if he was to do this again he would have the Elf lying on his stomach or maybe on his back to give him better access. Then he frowned at the thought, because he did not plan that there should be a next time anyway, didn't he? Then his mind was flooded by intoxicating pleasure and he ceased to think completely and began to move. The last thought that crossed his mind was that he just hoped he would not let this Elf capture his heart.
Dwarves loved only once, and normally if they burned for one they never took another partner. But this was just about the body, and about humiliating a hated Elf, was it not?
His beard got in the way and he took the time to place it over his partner's shoulder. Then he felt slender hands burying themselves in it and holding fast. His partner moved his rear up a bit to meet him and give him better access. Instinct took over and he moved within the living sheath and lost all thought.
Legolas gave himself over to this last coupling, grateful for his partner's gentleness and for Estel's presence, who knelt before him and just held him close. The combined essence of Boromir and his master had calmed the burning need caused by the drug a bit, and the oil and cum had worked together to soothe the burning of the paste. Even more, his Elven body had adjusted and the pain of his overstretched passage had receded to an bearable amount again. So this last coupling was pure bliss. He was still too dizzy to think much and just allowed himself to be held and warmed by the reassuring presence of his master in thoughtless trust. Then the Dwarf climaxed and spent himself within him and this third essence closed the developing bond and brought relief to the burning need. It was done. The spell was renewed and extended.
Gimli withdrew. Legolas fell forward into Estel's arms, completely exhausted.
Slowly, the dizziness and fog of the afterglow left his mind and he realized again what they just had done, and what it meant. What Aragorn had done to him, and which bargain he had struck. And how the other two warriors of their group – no, how all the Fellowship, with the possible exception of Mithrandir – would regard him now.
Helplessly, he started to cry.
Aragorn caught his slumping slave within his arms and held him fast. Legolas' sudden return to weeping worried him, but he did not wonder at it much. He was all too aware what he had forced him through. So he just held him fast and supported him in his arms, hugged against his chest. Legolas cried, and Aragorn petted him and spoke quiet, soothing words in Sindarin. Legolas didn't answer. He only cried harder.
Boromir came up beside him, still full of afterglow and puzzled and concerned at their partner's reaction. Gimli stood beside him, more solemn and not very surprised.
Aragorn didn't move. He held Legolas patiently and gave both Boromir and Gimli a silent nod, asking them to leave. "Just leave us alone for a bit," he quietly said in Common, "I will join you soon."
Quietly, but still very troubled, Boromir adjusted his clothes and slipped through the bushes to the other part of the camp, where he found he had to endure five angry stares. Gimli adjusted his clothing too, but before he left he stepped silently beside the crying Elf and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right, laddie," he said gravely, "You won't have to do this with me anymore unless you direly need it, or if you should want it yourself."
Giving the shivering shoulder under his hand a small squeeze, he left. Legolas uttered a small sob and buried his face in Aragorn's shoulder.
"Shhh," Aragorn soothed. "It is all right, melethron, it is over. I did this for you. There will be more of us now capable of giving you what you need. I would not have you die because of me. You are more safe now!"
When the crying didn't subside he sighed and placed a gentle kiss on the Elf's head. "It is all right, melethron. Cry as much as you have to. I am here for you. It is all right." His voice broke. He was all too aware of the irony of his words.
It was long before Legolas finally stopped crying, but after nearly an hour, the sobs slowly subsided and the tears ceased to flow. Aragorn continued to pet him for some time, then he carefully disentangled himself and helped him to settle down on the soiled blanket. He took his water skin and the cloth he had brought and started carefully to wash the grime and fluids off his companion.
"I hope we come across a bigger stream tomorrow," he offered while he worked, "then you can take a bath and wash your hair. For now, I am afraid this will have to do, melethron. I am sorry."
Legolas nodded. He remained silent. Aragorn sighed and finished his task. He rubbed his companion dry, then he took the carefully folded clothes of the Elf and handed them to him. "Dress," he said gently, "Then unroll your bedding in the other camp. Tonight your watch is mine. I deem it better that you sleep."
Legolas mumbled a muffled "Thank you, master."
Aragorn took his face into his hands and kissed him gently. It was a chaste kiss for once, just to his forehead.
"Sleep, melethron. Tomorrow things will look better," he said tenderly. "I am sorry that we had to do this. But I deem it for the best or I would never have agreed. Yet now you may sleep. We will deal with everything else in the morrow."
Legolas mutely obeyed and dressed himself. Then he gave his master a respectful bow, rose and went over to the other camp.
Aragorn looked after him and sighed again. Then he took the cloth, cleansed himself and arranged his own clothes. He put his things away and eyed his blanket. It was completely soiled. He hoped that if they indeed came across a stream the next day he might be able to wash it there.
He had insisted that Legolas take his master's blanket, not his own, for this, because he knew how much the elf hated to sleep in soiled and reeking beddings. And this night his slave could not climb a tree to find his solace there. He needed to sleep on the ground. So Aragorn resigned himself to sleeping without a blanket tonight. He doubted very much that he would be welcome – or rather, that it would do his slave much good – if he tried to snuggle close to Legolas to share his warmth and bedding.
No, Legolas would not wish him close this night. And while this was normally nothing a slave would be given any leave to decide, in this case Aragorn was mindful of his needs. His slave needed to recover before he could dare to force himself on him again.
Rolling the soiled blanket neatly together, he picked it up, took his other gear and killed the fire. Then he left through the bushes into the main camp.
He found Legolas already sleeping, huddled into his blanket as if it could protect him, well away from the point where Aragorn had earlier placed his pack. The others of the Fellowship were all sleeping as well, or at least they pretended to. Only Boromir sat quietly on one of the boulders, a bit away from the light of the fire so he could better watch the night.
Sighing, Aragorn left his gear and things beside his pack and went over to the Man of Gondor, climbing up onto his lookout and squatting down beside him.
"You have the first watch?" he asked quietly. Boromir nodded. Aragorn acknowledged it with a short nod. "Then I will take the second one. Legolas needs to sleep tonight."
Boromir directed a long look to the sleeping Elf.
"He is so different," he finally said, "I've had a few male lovers before, but this..." he shook his head. "He is a marvel," he concluded his thought. "I am not sure if we did the right thing to force ourselves on him."
Aragorn nearly snorted. The Man of Gondor was asking himself that now? How very convenient!
"Second thoughts already, Boromir?" he challenged. "Yet now it is too late. But do not fear. We did the right thing. You were right: I needed to make sure that he would not fall ill and die if anything should happen to me."
He fell silent a moment. Then he added quietly but fiercely: "Legolas is dear to me, dearer than you can ever know. I will not have him die just because he is bound by that cruel spell. I will do anything in my power to prevent that! And if you are willing to offer your help in that regard, then I will take it. But be warned," he added grimly. "I will hold you to your new responsibility, Boromir of Gondor! Should anything happen to me, should I fall ill or be wounded so Legolas is bereft of my care, and should he die because you choose to neglect your duty, I will see to it that you pay with your life if I am still around to do so! You do not get to lie with him for nothing!"
And with that he turned away, left the stunned Boromir alone and returned to his bedding. Ignoring his reeking blanket he rolled himself into his cloak. For once he chose a place well away from his Elf. Obviously he meant it when he said Legolas needed his sleep.
______________ o _____________
(1)Eredh Saew'ador -- Sindarin, literally: Seeds (of) Poison-Prison.
(2)Sogo nen anira –Sindarin: literally: drink (of) water (of) desire
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.