31. Keeping The Bargain
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: none. Except some graphic sex, and debatable consent, as mentioned. Please heed the warnings!
Disclaimer: Universe and characters are not mine, but Tolkien's. The idea of the spell, however, belongs to me.
Guide: In this chapter, 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.
XXIX. Keeping The Bargain
Aragorn woke to a gentle shake. He was instantly awake and alert, but the gentle pressure remaining on his shoulder for a moment made it clear to him there was no real danger. He opened his eyes to a cold, early dawn. The sun wasn't up yet, and the dark was just giving way to grey, dizzy twilight.
He got up on his elbows and looked at the still form of his slave beside him.
Legolas was kneeling. He seemed somehow uneasy, slightly uncomfortable, and was fidgeting with his bedroll. Aragorn could see that the hadn't found much rest, and seemed curiously shy to his master's scrutinizing gaze.
Sighing, Aragorn leaned back, then he rolled himself out of his coat – all the shelter he had found this night, since the blanket he had washed the evening before was still damp - and sat up. He reached out a hand and traced Legolas' cheeks. He found his slave leaning into his touch, but to his dismay he felt him slightly shivering. Gently and with concern, he drew the Elf toward himself and kissed him lightly on the brow.
"Good morning!" he greeted him gently, and when the slave leaned against him with only a murmured reply, he asked quietly: "What is it, Little Leaf?"
Legolas didn't answer immediately. He just huddled deeper into his master's touch. After a moment, he asked shyly:
"Would you... would you hold me, Estel?"
Aragorn hesitated a moment, astonished at this change of mood from yesterday, but then he simply enfolded the Elf wordlessly within his arms. Legolas closed his eyes and nestled gratefully against him. Aragorn held him close, luxuriating in his warmth and touch. Quietly and tenderly, he began to pet his Elf's back and head. He could feel Legolas trembling slightly in his arms. Very slowly, the trembling died down.
For a moment, Aragorn felt a twinge of panic. Legolas could not possibly be in need again already, could he? He had been cautious, he had been careful not to tighten the bond any further than absolutely inevitable, he was sure he had!
Quickly, he rubbed his face against that of his slave, inhaling his smell, checking for the tell-tale signs of desperate desire and unwanted arousal. Then he gently tipped the chin of his slave up and looked searchingly into his eyes.
He sighed in relief. Exhausted, yes; grieved and with a haunted expression, some sort of despair. Probably nightmares again, or ugly memories; for an Elf they were practically the same. But no signs of withdrawal, not even of the earliest stages of need. After more than seventy years he knew the signs for that with certainty, and better than he cared for.
Very gently, he asked: "You seem exhausted, Little Leaf. Did you find rest at all last night?"
"Not much," he finally admitted, "I woke early and could not return into dreams again, so I relieved Pippin of his watch a bit earlier than was due."
Aragorn did not stop his gentle petting, but he made a face. He resisted the impulse to ask how early, exactly 'a bit earlier than was due' had been. Instead he asked quietly: "Why didn't you wake me?"
Legolas shifted a little in his arms, and Aragorn searched his gaze again. The slave averted his eyes.
"There was no need," Legolas lied, "it was close to the beginning of my watch, anyway. I deemed it unnecessary to trouble you, when I had to get up so soon afterwards again."
Aragorn studied him for a moment. He knew he was lying; Legolas was never good at withholding the truth, much less at lying through his teeth. He sighed. "How close to your own watch was it, really?" he asked.
When Legolas did not answer right away, he raised a brow. "Well?"
Legolas hung his head. "Two hours," the slave finally reluctantly admitted.
Aragorn shook his head, gathering his stricken Elf more closely in his arms. "One day, melethron," he said quietly but with dry, resigned humour, "we need to talk about your definition of a 'short time'!"
He felt his slave starting to tremble again and placed a quick kiss on his forehead. "Shhh, it is well" he soothed. "Just remember next time you are plagued by nightmares again to wake me. You need your rest, too, once in a while,you know, Little Leaf!" Legolas nodded mutely. He leaned deeper into Aragorn's touch and sighed with relief.
"Thank you," he said quietly and gratefully, "Thank you, Estel!"
They stayed that way for some more time, stole a few undisturbed, precious moments together, until the first of the Hobbits stirred and on the other side of the camp Gandalf grumbled and slowly scrambled up. Slowly, but inevitably, the Fellowship woke and got up around them.
It was time for another long day's march.
_____________ o ___________
During the whole day, Legolas stayed close to his master. Even when he chatted with the Hobbits, he did not leave Aragorn's vicinity, and he did not undertake any scouting missions that day.
In the evening, after the haggling to divide the watches – Boromir, to his dismay, got the first one, again - the Fellowship settled down around the small fire they decided to risk, since they still had not met any creatures of the enemy. Legolas chose a place close beside his master, and when Aragorn opened his arms for him, he settled himself comfortably between his master's legs, back nestled against him. Aragorn savoured it, leaning his own back against a tree and petting his Elf absent-mindedly while he inserted the occasional comment into the animated chatter of the other members of the Fellowship. It was one of the few assets of the new situation, he reflected: at least he and Legolas did not need to hide the nature of their relationship and their affection any more. While the Hobbits at first had glared at him, they soon seemed to accept that Legolas at least seemed comfortable where he presently was, and minded their own business. Legolas, on the other hand, was unusually quiet, seemingly content to let himself be petted. He seemed drowsy, close to drifting off into Elven dreams.
Once or twice, Aragorn could see the sullen and increasingly dark looks Boromir shot them.
As wonderful as it was to luxuriate in Legolas' sudden desire for closeness and the fact that they could now openly indulge in showing affection, there was a bargain he needed to fulfil.
Careful, he leaned forward and whispered into his Elf's ear: "Try not to walk your Elven dreams too deeply, tonight, melethron."
Legolas started a little and turned half-way around in his arms, giving him a questioning look.
Sighing again and resigning himself to the disappointment he knew he would cause, Aragorn explained:
"It is Boromir's turn to have you, tonight."
He saw the face of his Elf crumble, and hurried to add quietly and soothingly: "Shh! It's what we agreed to do. And it is for your own good! You need not fear him. I don't believe he is out to hurt you." He paused and stopped himself. After a moment, he added: "And if he does, in any way, the bargain is off. I promise."
He spoke very quietly, so the others of the Fellowship would not discern the content of their conversation. He did not care for Boromir to insert his own thoughts into this matter and thereby make it even worse. And neither did he care for involving the Hobbits. Of course, he'd spoken Sindarin, so neither Boromir nor Gimli nor most of the Hobbits would understand his words even were they overheard. But Frodo, for one, did understand Sindarin, and so did Gandalf. In fact, looking across the fire, he felt both the eyes of the gentle Hobbit and the watchful gaze of the wizard on him.
He ignored them and concentrated back on Legolas.
Legolas shuddered. Very hesitantly and equally quietly, he said once more: "I do not like to share myself with others beside you, Aragorn."
It was a daring move, yet he felt he had to try, at least one more time. At least, his master seemed in a much more indulgent mood tonight.
Aragorn hesitated. "You were never that hesitant to lie with Halbarad," he said with hard-won patience, "or Onogdir."
Legolas swallowed at the slight note of incomprehension he could hear in his master's voice. Very quietly, he said: "Halbarad always treated me as a comrade. He... he never saw me simply as a bed-toy, Aragorn."
He saw his master's uncomprehending look and his voice broke. Resignedly and quietly, he added: "I am sorry, My Lord. I just..."
He swallowed hard in fear of Aragorn's anger.
But the feared harshness never came. Instead, Aragorn kissed him gently.
"Look," he said, "it is just for the time of the Quest. And what does it matter if Boromir does not see you as a comrade right now? He will keep you safe. That is all that matters now. He was gentle enough with you the other night. And I will not allow him to hurt you!"
After a moment, he added reasonably: "Do not fear! Soon enough, we'll find ourselves facing the enemy, and as soon as Boromir gets to see you fight, he will come to respect you again. It's hard to disdain someone to whom you owe your life. Believe me, I would know!"
Legolas hesitated. "Do you... did you have a vision, Estel?" he asked quietly.
The eyes of his master darkened in pain. He shook his head as if to banish an unwelcome thought, and his face grew grim. A far-away look entered his eyes.
Quietly, he replied: "I saw the Fellowship hunted. No time to pause, no time to give you what you need, no time to feed the spell. You... you were..." He could not go on and shook his head again.
"--Dying," Legolas supplied. He quickly looked around to the dancing shadows the flames of the fire cast. He wasn't shocked. If that was to be his fate, he was ready to bear it.
Across the fire, on the other side of their little camp, he could see Gandalf's head rise, and the wizard gave them a sharp look. He realized that the Istar had probably heard and followed their little exchange, in spite of the chatter of the Hobbits. The old wizard had sharp ears, if he wanted.
Aragorn drew a deep breath, then he gently shook his head and kissed his slave on the brow. "--too weak to keep up," he supplied finally. "And there was no way I could stay behind with you. We had to leave you."
His face was grim. He shook his head again. "There is no way this side of Mandos or beyond I'd let that happen. Boromir can give you what you need, even when there is little time. He won't need to... do what I need to do to you. He... can do what I cannot."
His voice faded, croaky in its rawness. Finally, he added: "Do you not see, melethron? I need to know you're safe. And he can keep you safe. And more, he..."
He shook his head.
"He won't have to hurt you," he whispered. Then he swallowed hard and found his resolve again. Fiercely, he added: "This is no punishment I place on you, nor a cruel game. I would have you see this as a gift. I would have you relish it!"
Legolas looked at him, stunned by his agitation and his pain.
Quietly and earnestly, he said: "I do not relish it, master. But I will do as you say."
________________ o ______________
When Boromir got back from his watch to his bedroll this night, he found Legolas waiting for him. The Elf had already spread out Boromir's bedroll and placed his own beside it. His weapons were discarded and in easy reach, but Legolas had also shed his tunic and his belt and wore merely his undershirt and leggings. He had placed himself on Boromir's bedroll and laid his blanket loosely around him. At first, Boromir thought he might have erred about the place where he left his pack, but then he noticed it neatly placed beside his own bedroll.
Of course Aragorn had in the end agreed to keep the bargain the other day. But then the Elf had seemed so unwilling and reluctant to leave the Ranger's side that Boromir had nearly expected he would not get to taste the slave again without a fight. Unwilling to confront Aragorn in front of the Hobbits and risk their censure in the matter, he had postponed that confrontation to the next day.
Yet now here the Elf was waiting for him like a gift ready to be unwrapped!
He frowned and knelt beside the Elf. "Legolas," he said, deliberately using the slave's name instead of the more derogatory addresses unbidden entering his mind, "what are you doing?"
The Elf shed his blanket, rolled around and looked up to him. Quietly and without visible emotion, he said: "It is your turn tonight."
Boromir studied him. The slave did not seem excited at the thought, but neither did he seem fearful or completely loathing. Besides, Boromir had seen the other day what this Elf could do if he set his mind to an attack. Could it be that he liked the prospect of sharing himself?
Cautiously, he asked: "You came to me out of your own, free will?"
Legolas shook his head. He refused to meet the Adan's gaze. "My master ordered me to come to you," he said. "Yet he is right; it was the agreement that I would have to share myself with you. Should you wish me, I will be with you tonight."
Boromir drew his brows together. "But do you wish it?" he asked hopefully, "Do you wish to be with me?"
Legolas looked away. "It does not matter what I wish," he said sadly. "The Fellowship decided it should be this way, and my master is bound by this decision. He will keep to the agreement he has made with you. It is your turn tonight, and so I will share myself with you."
Boromir shook his head. He felt curiously abashed that Aragorn would send the Elf to him although Legolas was clearly not eager to obey, but then again, perhaps he could do something about the latter. Slowly, he grew comfortable with the situation. Still, to think that only a few days ago, he had started to respect this so called 'prince of Mirkwood'...
"So this was what you and your Ranger were whispering about all evening," he said, feeling oddly disappointed that at a mere word of Aragorn the slave would offer himself up obediently like a whore. Of course, Legolas had not put up any fight during the extension of the spell two nights before, either. "I was beginning to wonder already if he would keep the bargain."
Legolas nodded. "He will abide by it" he merely said.
Oddly fascinated, Boromir reached out and touched his face. "He must be glad to have such loyalty," he said. "Were you mine, I would not share you with anyone."
Legolas shuddered slightly under his touch, but did not pull away.
Boromir traced his features for a moment, then he drew his hand back. "Very well, then" he said, somewhat breathlessly. "Help me undress. I would relish tasting your sweetness and getting the chance to sheath myself in you once more." He licked his lips, devouring the Elf with his eyes, admiring his soft glow against the night.
Legolas blanched a little at the Adan's words, but he stood up as he was ordered and helped the man of Gondor out of his coat.
"I believe that was the point, My Lord," he said quietly, "though you may do whatever you wish to do tonight, as long as you do no lasting harm."
Boromir gasped. "Everything -- I wish?" he repeated disbelievingly. His eyes were wide.
The Elf actually smiled at him, although it was a joyless smile. "Yes, although of course within certain limits. You heard my master's words to the Dwarf the other day. You have no leave to harass or to torment me, or to do lasting harm. Nor am I bound to obey you outside the bedroll, or to be your servant and do your chores. But otherwise, I am to serve you as you please. Of course," he added in an afterthought, "we may be hampered a bit by the need to be discreet and quiet, though we may leave the camp should you wish to have some privacy." It sounded bitter, yet resigned.
Boromir's face was grim. "Your master is quite careless if he grants such a generous and barely restrained use of you to men he has scarcely known for more than a few weeks," he said. "Were you mine, I would take better care of you. I would make sure I was the only one who was allowed to touch you, and everyone else who tried to lie a hand on you would taste my sword!"
Legolas said nothing. He had freed Boromir of his heavy overcoat, and Boromir found he had already folded it neatly and placed it in a little pile on the pack. Now, he relieved him of the belt and began to tug at the bindings of Boromir's jerkin.
Boromir stood still and let him work. It was a nice change for once to be fussed over and attended to the way he used to be at home in Gondor, at least in his father's palace. In the field, he normally did without fussing aides or eager valets. But apparently, Aragorn's Elf had good practice in this function as well.
Boromir started to really envy the Ranger.
Wordlessly, he raised his arms and assisted the Elf in pulling the jerkin over his head. Legolas folded the heavy leather quickly and placed it neatly on the pile. Boromir observed him in growing fascination. He noticed the slight stiffness in the normally gracious and nimble gestures of the Elf, the carefully blank face, the thin and joyless line of the lips.
He resolved to change that, if he could. Maybe, he could bring the Elf to the point that after this night, Legolas would look forward to sharing his nights with him instead of with his master.
He stepped close and indulged his desire to touch. Gently, he took the well developed shoulders, pulled the slave up and drew him close. Legolas didn't resist, and Boromir enfolded the slender body in his arms. He felt the Elf shiver and knew it for fear and reluctance, not anticipation and desire, though Legolas' face betrayed nothing.
Yet the archer held obediently still under his touch and made no move to pull away.
Carefully, Boromir started to explore the slender neck, the long, silken hair, the leaf-shaped ears. Legolas gasped at that, and Boromir smiled. He continued to let his hands roam for a while, exploring the well-muscled chest, the straight back, the narrow hips. The soft cloth of the undershirt hampered his explorations, and he wished to touch bare skin; but for that he preferred some more privacy than they had here.
He felt his groin twitch. It was time to take this to some place outside the camp.
Yet the slave was still shivering in his arms.
Boromir sought his lips and kissed him. He savored the enticing sweetness, the obediently opening mouth, yet he allowed himself barely more than a taste for the moment.
"Do not fear," Boromir finally said, "I do not wish to do you harm or to hurt you. I would like to taste you again, and to bring you pleasure. And I would enjoy being within you, yet I would prefer if I don't have to hurry this time. I'd like to taste you thoroughly, tonight. I did not get the chance to do so that first time."
The Elf under his hands shuddered again, though he finally looked up and returned his gaze. "You do not have to hurry. I am yours tonight,"he offered quietly. "Though there will be many other nights ahead for you to take whatever you want. The Quest is long."
His eyes were a tad too bright, betraying unshed tears, although his face was still carefully blank. His muscles under Boromir's touch were rigid in reluctant submission. He still shivered slightly, though he tried to control it.
Boromir's groin twitched again. He drew the Elf even closer to himself and kissed him again. The slave hesitated a mere heartbeat, then he obediently opened up for him, and Boromir tasted him thoroughly.
He finished the kiss and caressed the Elf's face and ears again. "Then I will do that," he said hoarsely, "and deeply enjoy it. I do not wish to do you harm, and I hope I may even bring you to the point where you do not weep before or after you have to allow me to touch you."
Legolas looked a bit startled. "I am not weeping now," he said.
Boromir cocked his head. "No," he said, "and I hope I can manage that you do not weep later, either. I know you have been ordered to lie with me, but perhaps, if you give me the chance, I can even cause you to enjoy it." He traced the face and ears of the unresisting Elf again and asked: "Will you kiss me?"
Legolas eyes widened. Then he obeyed. Boromir tasted sweetness again and felt the body under his hands surrender a little of its stiffness.
"Come," he quietly commanded, "I think we may indeed wish for some privacy. Take your blanket and your knives, sir Elf, and if you happen to have anything to ease the way, I'd suggest you bring it with you, too. Let us find some quiet spot outside the camp where we will not disturb the others."
Legolas shot him another amazed look, yet obeyed him wordlessly. It took just a short rummage through his pack to find the vial with oil Boromir had suggested, and then he grabbed his blanket and the knives and followed the Adan out of the camp.
They did not go far, only far enough to be hidden from view and out of immediate earshot from the camp. Boromir had buckled his sword on again; it would not do to be weaponless, should they find themselves surprised by a hostile creature of any kind. He had also brought his bedroll with him, and now he laid it on a dry spot on the ground, unbuckled his belt again and set his sword beside it in easy reach. He sat down and patted the blanket beside himself invitingly.
"Come here, sir Elf," he said, "undress for me!"
Hesitantly, but obediently, the slave knelt down and set his knives aside. He yielded his boots, shirt and leggings, and finally his loincloth. He placed the garments carefully beside them, and laid the vial atop the little pile.
Boromir felt the water gather in his mouth at the reluctant but obedient gestures and watched hungrily while the glorious body was slowly revealed for him.
Then the slave finally arched his back and bowed his head, letting his legs fall slightly apart, and knelt in glorious nakedness before the man of Gondor, presenting himself to his view as he had been trained by his masters.
Boromir heard himself gasp and had to swallow hard. Aragorn must be mad to share such a prize with anyone!
He approached the Elf a little and knelt before him. Gently, he tipped the head of the slave up.
"Not like this," he said. "You do not need to fear me. Kiss me, sir Elf. I wish to feel your hands on me!"
Startled and amazed, the Elf hesitated a moment to obey, but then he carefully reached out and started to touch the Adan's face. He scrambled closer and kissed the man again. His hands trailed higher, touching the round ears, then down the neck, thumbs feeling the beard -so different from Aragorn's familiar stubble – then down the powerful shoulders, well-defined under the covering shirt the man still wore. He tasted the man deeply, engaging for a moment in dueling tongues. Then he abruptly pulled back, his eyes wide with amazement and sudden fear.
What was happening to him?!
He felt his groin twitch, felt arousal kindling in his veins, felt himself react to the unfamiliar body. Yet he was far away from the time he should feel need and be thrown into desire. And yet, this man was completely different from Aragorn.
Boromir noticed his astonishment, but he didn't feel alarmed. He saw the waxing erection of the slave, the flushed cheeks, and interpreted them correctly. He smiled, and felt his breath quicken. It made him giddy to have such power over the unwilling Elf that he even could order him to take the initiative, and that he managed to wake his responses. Gently and with some devilish delight he drew the hesitating Elf close again, placed his partner's hands back on his own shoulders, and encouraged him to go on.
After a mere heartbeat of bewilderment, the Elf obeyed and continued to caress him. Boromir savoured the exploring hands, but soon the gentle touches roaming him were not enough for him anymore and his own hands came up. He seized the face of the Elf again and took him in a demanding kiss, then he gathered him in his arms, guided him slowly on his back and down onto the bedroll.
"Now," he ordered hoarsely, "lie still for me!"
And with that he began to explore his partner in earnest, touching with hands, lips and tongue, roaming and petting down the breast and over the whole body, and concentrating on learning the strange body's reactions, trying out what made him jerk, shiver and squirm. He savored the curiously hairless chest, skin so smooth like a woman's, but too well muscled and without the softness a female body would provide; he lapped and worried the sensitive nipples until they stood red and erect, eager for more, and he heard his partner whimper at his tongue's explorations; and then he licked further down towards the nearly hairless groin. To his delight, he found that it took him not all that long to make the lithe body squirm in pleasure and desire under his touches. The Elf was incredibly responsive as soon as he allowed himself to let go!
Finally, Boromir reached his goal. He took the half-erect member into his mouth and licked and suckled it to full arousal, delighting in Legolas' gasps and little whimpers under his ministrations.
Then he got up – smiling at the involuntary little groan of protest uttered by the Elf – and freed his own erection.
"Now, my dear Elf," he said, smirking, "I think it's time for you to use that vial of oil you brought, if you do not wish me to take you unprepared!"
Breathing hard in anticipation, the Elf rolled around and reached to the spot where he had placed the vial. He uncorked it and knelt before the man, dribbling some of the fluid into his palms. Then he closed the vial again and touched the straining erection of the man. Carefully and practiced he coated the hot flesh of the Adan's shaft with the fine, scented oil, breathing hard in anticipation. He could see little drops of pre-come already and swallowed hard. Done, he lay back on the bedroll and opened his legs wide for the man.
Boromir had to bite his lips to prevent himself from coming too soon at the eager invitation. He took the vial from the Elf and coated his fingers, then he set it away and knelt between Legolas' legs. Taking his partner's legs, he placed them up over his shoulders. Then he entered the body before him with two fingers, stretching him a bit and massaging until he found the sweet spot. He curled his fingers and delighted in seeing his partner squirm and gasp in pleasure; then he withdrew – the Elf moaned a bit in frustration – and replaced his fingers with his own, eager member.
Legolas gasped in sudden pain as the thick cock entered him, and Boromir stopped immediately, giving him time to adjust. After a moment, the resisting muscles of the slave's passage relaxed, and Boromir drove deeper, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed. He gasped in pleasure. It was incredible to be surrounded by the hot, welcoming flesh of his partner, seeing the look of wonder and abandon on the flushed face of the Elf. He reached down and caressed the slim sides, the erect nipples, then one hand trailed down and found his partner's straining erection.
Slowly, then ever faster, he began to move within his living sheath, massaging the rigid flesh under his hand in counterpoint. He found the angle that made Legolas squirm and gasp with each new thrust and adjusted his own thrusting to give his partner the most possible pleasure. For a moment, he saw the deep, disbelieving eyes of the Elf, wide open and unseeing in intense passion; the look nearly made him come all in itself.
Then the Elf closed his eyes, mouth agape, and Boromir thrust three more times and spilled himself. When he came, he felt creamy, pearly fluid coat his hand and soil his undershirt. Gasping in bliss, he pulled out and collapsed beside his pliant partner.
Legolas' eyes were closed. His lips were whispering a name, tonelessly and nearly indiscernibly. Yet Boromir had the nagging impression it was not his own.
Mood spoiled a bit, he sighed and trailed the flushed, heaving chest of his partner, glistening with sweat and traces of the Elf's own come. "Bad slave," he joked, "you soiled my clothes when you came!"
It was meant merely as a joke, but Legolas instantly stiffened. Dragging himself back from whatever place of abandon his mind had fled to, the Elf swallowed hard and brought his breathing under control with effort. After a moment, he said bleakly:
"I am sorry, My Lord. I... I request... punishment, if you would grace me with it."
Boromir felt as if he had been doused. Ripped out of his bliss, he shot the Elf an incredulous look.
"It was a joke!" he said. "I hope you did not take me seriously? Or... do you like to be hurt?" For a moment, the way he had found the Elf, bound, half-naked, draped over the thighs of Aragorn, being whipped by the Ranger, flashed through his mind. Had he misread the scene? Was this Elf one of those sick minds who drew pleasure out of the pain and humiliation inflicted on them?
But he had seemed delighted enough by Boromir's gentle ministrations just moments ago....
The Elf flushed deeply and tiredly shook his head. "No," he whispered, "I do not enjoy that. I am sorry I misunderstood your meaning."
Boromir decided to try to banish that look of tired resignation. He rose up on his elbows, leaned over his partner and kissed him deeply. "Good," he said, "because at the moment I hardly feel up to spanking you. And concerning the clothes, I could not care less!"
He stole another kiss. "You were wonderful!" he said, stroking the naked chest, "You gave me great pleasure, master Elf. Thank you! I am glad I'll have the chance to repeat this with you, soon."
The Elf bit his lips.
Boromir sighed. He had thought the Elf had enjoyed their sharing, too. In fact, only moments before, he had been sure of it.
"Even if you don't seem to enjoy it," he said a bit disappointed.
Legolas closed his eyes. "I did enjoy it, My Lord," he said. "It is just... " he stopped himself. "Forgive me."
Boromir watched him closely. He felt a sudden stab of jealousy.
"This master of yours has your loyalty, has he not?" he asked abruptly.
Legolas shivered at the Adan's tone. So, now the punishment would come, anyway!
"Yes, My Lord," he answered truthfully.
"And you obey him," Boromir said flatly, "whatever he commands you to do."
"I am bound to, My Lord." Legolas said a little sadly, "I am his to command."
"And without his command, you would not do this again with me?"
Legolas shook his head and braced himself for the Man's anger. "No, My Lord. I am sorry."
Boromir looked grim. "He's a fool," he said harshly, "to treat you the way he does. Were you but mine..." He trailed off. More harshly, he said: "Well, I hope at least you did not loathe the experience, because I will surely insist on having some share of you as often as is due. You are too good a prize to miss the chance!"
With that, he got up and cleaned himself with Legolas' loincloth, then he adjusted his clothes and covered himself. He bowed down, took the hand of the still lying slave and pulled him up.
"Come," he commanded, "dress yourself. It is time to return to the camp."
The Elf sat up and followed his command miserably. Wordlessly, he used the soiled loincloth to wipe himself, then, leaving it aside, he slipped into his leggings and shirt and donned his boots. He wrapped the soiled cloth neatly in a bundle and stood up, taking his knives, his blanket and Boromir's bedroll.
When they started to walk, Legolas bowed his head and looked at his feet. He should have known the wondrous moment of their sharing earlier would not last! And yet...
Suddenly, his sharp ears picked up a soft rustle in the bushes, and his head whipped up. The noise ceased. Legolas' brows came down as he stared at the place where he had heard the noise.
Boromir saw his reaction. He drew his sword to defend them against the perceived threat, but Legolas stopped him.
"It is probably just one of our comrades," he said softly, "out to relieve himself. I feel no danger."
Boromir sighed. "You have keen senses, master Elf," he said, "and more uses than one!"
Shrugging, he sheathed his sword again and started to walk into the direction of their camp.
Legolas followed him slowly.
He had a very good idea who their watcher might have been, and he was proved right when they returned to the camp, and he found Estel's bedroll empty, although it was not Aragorn's watch at the moment.
So, his master had taken it upon himself to watch over them the first night his slave had been forced to offer himself to another man at his command.
Somehow, Legolas found it hard to be grateful.
________________ o ________________
-- TBC --
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.