Cuil Eden

This is the continuation of Cuil Eden - due to AFF's database changes, I'm forced to post the new chapters here, as the older chapters are in the read-only archive where I cannot update or edit. Hopefully the database transfers will work out as they want it, so that everything will be in one place again soon. :)

You can find the first 37 chapters of Cuil Eden here:
http://lotr.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=9228

For other fics I have written (including Anestel and Ethuil'waew, the prequels of Cuil Eden), go to my profile here:
http://lotr.adult-fanfiction.org/authors.php?no=1638


Now, on with Cuil Eden - and thanks to AFF's troubles, I can give you two new chapters at once this time. :)

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Cuil Eden
Part: 38/?
Rating: NC-17
Series: Sequel to Anestel and Ethuil'waew
Pairing: Glorfindel/Legolas
Author's website: http://www.loes-valthen.de.vu
Warnings: mpreg, d/s
Disclaimer: All the pretty elves belong to Tolkien, I'm just playing with them and will give them back afterwards.


Betaed, as always, by Calenharn Elflover, thank you so much! :)

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"Legolas..." Glorfindel wanted to weep at this piteous, heartbroken plea. "You do not deserve this; you do not deserve any of this!" he whispered, feeling as though he would choke on the anguish he was feeling. He was seeing so clearly now... He was seeing what he had done, and all the consequences of his foul deed.

Legolas had been unloved and unwanted for all of his life. How lonely he must have been, and how sad his childhood without the love of his parents and brothers - most likely without even friends! Even before Glorfindel, his fëa would have been nearly wounded beyond repair by the long years of neglect.

Legolas had been starved for love, hungering for the smallest sign of affection. It would have been so easy - all it would have taken was a kind word, just the smallest amount of praise, of affection, and Legolas would have done anything to please him.

I am nothing! Legolas' words came back to haunt him. Yes... even back then, Legolas had already abandoned all belief in himself, simply existing from day to day, faced with the unwavering knowledge that he did not mean anything to anyone - that he was unwanted at his father's court, or in his father's life.

And then he had come, Glorfindel, giving the child hope for perhaps the first time in his life that someone could actually want him, be interested in him - only to rip that hope away in the most cruel fashion.

Glorfindel almost moaned when he finally admitted to himself the full scope of what he had done. It would have been a horrible crime no matter the victim, yet to know that he had abused someone whose fëa had already been so damaged by years of neglect... He shivered when he remembered all the abuses that he had heaped on the youth - and that he had brought the taint of slavery to Imladris, when his purpose had been to fight the growing darkness! How was it that he had never realized that slowly, he had become no better than the evil that he had once sworn to fight?

Glorfindel felt overcome with shame at how far he had fallen. What had he done? Was there even a way to undo the damage he had caused?

"I have sworn you an oath, Legolas! I will not ever send you away, I swear it!" Glorfindel repeated, tightening his arms around the heartbroken youth. "Nor will I allow anyone else to hurt you, neither by their hands nor by their words. Do you... do you not know how very dear you are to me?" he whispered against Legolas' hair. "You are so beautiful, and your sweetness, your gentleness... Ai, you were not made for these cruel mortal shores! Would that I could have met you in Aman, a carefree, happy child of the forest that I could have wooed, that I could have made happy..."

"No," Legolas moaned. "Please, do not! I dare not indulge these dreams! I know what I am, and truly, I would not have deserved that... But I love our Gîl so! Just do not let them hurt him because of me! I could not bear that!"

"Hush, Legolas. I promise! Nobody will be allowed to hurt him," Glorfindel whispered, sighing softly against Legolas' hair.

What had he been thinking? Had he truly been so callous, so self-serving that he had not realized what he was doing? Or was it that he simply had not cared?

Now the damage was done, and Glorfindel trembled when he realized that just maybe, it could never be reversed. Nor would he ever know if what Legolas was feeling was true affection, or something twisted by his abuse - a feeling fabricated by his mind so that he could survive being the whore of his father's enemy.

And truly, what could he do? He had had Legolas trained in swordsmanship, had taught him languages, literature, and history... yet still, Legolas thought that he was nothing!

But then, Glorfindel reminded himself, how could Legolas be confident in his worth when the truth was that he held no position of honor or respect - when even the stable boys felt themselves above him?

Glorfindel had made certain that the hateful word he himself had once used for Legolas - whore - was no longer used, at least not in his presence. Yet Glorfindel could not change what people thought about Legolas, though perhaps in time he could change how Legolas felt about himself.

How often had he reassured Legolas, told him that he would protect him, told him that he was a prince in truth? Yet when had he ever made good on those promises?

No, Glorfindel had to admit that he had never truly tried to make those promises a reality. If he wanted Legolas to have a place in society that was not that of an outcast, then he, Glorfindel, would have to give him that place. Vague threats would never give Legolas the respect he deserved, not as long as Glorfindel himself was seen to treat Legolas as nothing more than a whore to pleasure him. Even Legolas' presence at feasts, royally arrayed, could be taken – not as an honor - but as Glorfindel flaunting his mastery over a subjugated prince of the enemy. For how else should their relationship be perceived, given that he had not honored Legolas with a betrothal, much less the vows of eternal binding?

Glorfindel wearily closed his eyes. He had fallen into the Valar's trap - or maybe it had been his own trap all along. He now loved that which he had once hated, which he had hurt and shamed and nearly destroyed. How the Valar must laugh at him!

“Legolas...”

Glorfindel sighed, but then shook his head. It was too late for apologies – what Legolas needed were reassurances. And it would need to be more than just a promise this time...

Love me! he could again hear the youth pleading. And certainly that was not asking too much, was it, after Legolas had already given him a son? Yet still, Glorfindel found himself unable to speak the words. He told himself that he simply did not want to hurt Legolas even more by lying to him, yet at the same time he could not entirely ignore the nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, he was once again afraid to acknowledge something that he should have realized long ago. For during these many months of being with Legolas, he had never once wanted another; indeed, he was still almost mad with desire for him.

Glorfindel frowned. No, this was no time for thought – it was action which Legolas needed. He gently cupped his prince's cheek, forcing the still trembling youth to meet his eyes.

“Let me love you!" he whispered, breathing the tender words over Legolas' face like a charm, or prayer. "Let me love you..."

Legolas closed his eyes, sighing in acquiscence when Glorfindel gently pushed him back, so that he came to sit on the ground with the softness of cool moss against his legs, his thighs.

"Shh, careful now," Glorfindel cautioned, and without ceasing to breathe sweet little kisses all over his face, helped Legolas to lean back so that his elbows carried his weight, keeping his bruised back off the ground.

"Let me love you - let me care for you!" he whispered again before he took Legolas' lips in a slow kiss, aiming for seduction rather than domination. It was an unhurried kiss, drawn out for far longer than Glorfindel would have normally allowed. But this was not about quick satisfaction of his body’s needs, this was about showing Legolas affection – and if he was honest with himself, Glorfindel found this slow little kiss far more enjoyable than many passionate trysts with lovers past. Maybe it was the way that something so simple could render Legolas breathless, make him flush with pleasure. Maybe it was the soft sounds that he made, every sweet little sigh and gasp going straight to Glorfindel’s groin – or maybe it was that Legolas had become so very dear to him, finding a way into his heart despite the darkness of war and hate that had surrounded them.

“Ai, Legolas velui vell nín!” he sighed, a slow warmth spreading through his body when Legolas shivered at his words, tilting his head back in a silent offering so that Glorfindel could nuzzle his throat. Glorfindel licked the pale skin, tasting the salt of the hot spring and just the barest hint of the taste that was Legolas. He could feel the pulse fluttering against his tongue and smiled at the way the youth was reacting to him.

"Give yourself to me - let me care for you!" he whispered, and rewarded it with a kiss to a rosy nipple when Legolas sighed and closed his eyes, surrendering himself to his lord's touch. He laved the small, berry-red nub with his tongue until it was wet and erect and Legolas shivered each time he licked over it.

"I love how sensitive you still are," Glorfindel breathed against his chest before he closed his lips around the nipple, gently sucking on it while Legolas gasped and gripped Glorfindel's shoulder to steady himself.

"Do you like that?" Glorfindel asked, laughing softly at the way Legolas trembled when his breath moved over the glistening nub. "You liked to nurse our son, did you not? And I loved to watch you... You were so beautiful! I shall give you another child, Legolas, another child to suckle on those sweet, rosy buds..."

Glorfindel gently bit the nipple, tugging on it a little before he again took it into his mouth to suck on it, harder this time so that Legolas cried out with pleasure.

When Glorfindel finally let go, the little nub was swollen and red, inviting like a juicy berry, and Glorfindel found himself circling it with his fingertips, teasing, tormenting Legolas by repeatedly rubbing his calloused fingers over the sensitive skin. He pinched the nipple only to hear Legolas cry out again, tugging gently with his fingers while he remembered how sweet Legolas had looked with the babe at his chest, vulnerable and fragile and trusting, and above all his - his to possess, his to protect.

Glorfindel groaned and hungrily moved on to the other side of Legolas' chest, tormenting that nipple with his mouth and tongue with such vigor as though he were trying to draw out a last few drops of the sweetness that had once nourished their child, although Legolas' chest was flat now like that of any other male. But his nipples were just a little bit darker, a little bit larger than those of other males, and still they were so sensitive...

Glorfindel playfully bit the little nub, smiling when he heard Legolas gasp. "Would you like that, Legolas?" he teased gently. "Would you like to have another child suckling at your breast?" He moved one nipple into his mouth again, gently sucking as if to help Legolas remember.

"Ai!" Legolas moaned helplessly, almost gone with pleasure from the constant, teasing touch at this over-sensitized area. "You know I would, lord! Oh, please!" he gasped, and Glorfindel drew back with a smile.

"No pleading, Legolas, not today - I will care for you, I will love you like I promised."

Glorfindel moved his lips back to Legolas' chest, licking a slow, wet path down towards the small navel which he teased with his tongue, circling it several times until he flicked his tongue inside repeatedly, like a cat trying to lap milk from a bowl. Legolas squirmed a little, helpless in his arousal, and Glorfindel watched the muscles of his stomach constrict, pleased that where he had once been able to count ribs, he was now able to feel and see the musculature of a well-fed, active youth.

Then he moved further downward, ignoring the slender, swollen shaft that twitched when he moved past it. He pressed his lips to the silky skin of the pale thighs that parted willingly for him, and he gently encouraged them to spread further, only to deliver a playful bite to the sensitive skin of the inner thigh, chuckling when Legolas yelped and pulled his hand back from his shoulder to balance himself.

He drew a hand along the smooth skin in admiration. It was pale as freshly fallen snow, and it made Glorfindel want to brand him as his, like an animal. With a soft growl, Glorfindel gave into his impulse, sucking on a patch of skin - not hard enough to hurt, just enough for a reddish mark to form. When he looked up again, he saw that Legolas was trembling, weak with desire, and Glorfindel felt his own desire grow even stronger at the sight of the mark he had left. The redness looked almost obscene against the paleness of Legolas' thighs.

"I have never desired another the way that I desire you..." Glorfindel breathed, wondering how it was that Legolas could still look so innocent, so untouched, although Elbereth knew that there should be no innocence left at all, not after the uses he had put him to.

“You bewitch me...” He was bewitched - and he found that he did not much care.

Legolas whimpered when his lord's hot breath ghosted over his erection, his fingers digging into the earth as he tried to control his need. Without a doubt he was trying to endure Glorfindel’s teasing, waiting for the moment when Glorfindel would end this torment and simply take him, the way he always did.

Glorfindel grinned and swooped down to sheathe Legolas’ length in his mouth, chuckling around the hot shaft when Legolas all but shrieked in shock.

"What – but – Ai! No!” Legolas gasped, so overcome that he could no longer hold himself up with his arms, gasping again when his bruised back came into sudden contact with the ground. “Ai! Do – do not – my lord!” he cried, his eyes wide open in near panic at the sight of the golden head bent over his lap.

“Why not?” Glorfindel said and smirked as he drew back for a moment. “You are mine – and I will have you in any way that I please. Now let me love you the way I want to...”

Legolas cried out when the hot mouth closed around him once more, and after that he could not manage another word. Instead, the sounds that left his lips were moans, whimpers, soft, piteous cries caused by a pleasure almost too keen to be borne.

And all the sounds only served to make Glorfindel take him deeper, draw on him even more voraciously. He was playing Legolas expertly, using all the skill in the arts of love that he had garnered over two lives, and it did not take long at all until Legolas was nearly delirious. His hands were twisted into Glorfindel’s locks – not daring to hold him in place, never that, instead trying desperately to anchor himself, for this pleasure - the heat, the wetness, the sensual sliding of a skilled tongue – was something that he had never known before.

Legolas could not hold out long in the face of such pleasure. All too soon, it became too much, and he cried out his pleasure in what was almost a wail, finding his completion in Glorfindel’s mouth who swallowed his sweetness with just as much voracity.

Legolas was still weak-limbed and trembling as if in a fever when Glorfindel finally drew back, only to then tenderly draw the youth into his arms when he joined him on the moss-covered ground.

“Shhh, no words, Legolas,” Glorfindel hushed with a smile, before Legolas could even think of speaking. He was still hard himself, but for once, he found himself strangely moved to ignore his arousal, and to instead spend this moment simply enjoying the feeling of the sweaty, exhausted body in his arms

Not for long, he told himself, for Glorfindel had never been one to deny himself, yet for this short moment he wanted to glory in the absolute certainty that Legolas was his, and that in return, he might just be Legolas’.

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Ai, Legolas velui vell nín - Ah, my sweet, dear Legolas
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