Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Undomiel	By : Anu Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4231 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
When Elrond woke, he remained in his talan for the day, silent and contemplative. His sons worried for him, but dared not disturb him.
That afternoon they went to go sit beside the Nimrodel and talk over the turn of events.
"Do you think ada's alright?"
"He looks okay to me."
"I wonder what he's going to do."
"Who says he's going to do anything?"
"He's got to do something!"
"I don't fancy having a Sindar-raised half-sibling any more than you, you know, and I'm not about to go rushing out there. They'd lop my head off as quick as look at me!"
"Well, we can't just wait for Glorfindel to find it in his heart to come back. Think of what we did to him. Would you come back after someone treated you like that?"
"No."
"Exactly."
"So what do you think he's going to do?"
"I don't know, but you can bet that he'll hide whatever it is from us."
"He was always like that, oppressive bastard." Elladan trailed a leaf over Elrohir's ankle.

Elrohir squirmed. "Well, I say we watch him, and if it looks lie he's up to something, we give chase."
"Do you think he'd be foolish enough to run out unguarded and unarmed?"
"In this state? Most definitely."
The twins fell silent for a time, leaning on one another, lost in thought.
"So, if we're going to watch him, we best stay close, no?"
"Oh yeah. I forgot. Well, let's go and hope he hasn't snuck off already."
*********
Elrond didn't make a move from the porch until everyone was asleep. Under the guise of coming to bed himself, he stealthily packed supplies and weapons, and then slipped out.
Elladan and Elrohir threw the covers back and followed suit.
Elrond and his mare were gone when they got to the thicket where the horses were kept. Elladan and Elrohir looked at one another. "Mirkwood." They said together. Doom boded ill.
*********
At the edge of the forest just beyond the patrolled Sindar border, Elrond paused to release his horse and gather his peace. With a deep breath he started up the hill that would take him beyond the point of no return. Suddenly he heard horses approaching stealthily.
He whirled and dropped into the grass, out of sight. Elladan and Elrohir stopped and dismounted where he had released his mare and followed his tracks in the grass with their eyes. He left his hiding place, glaring at his sons.
"You shouldn't have come!" He hissed at them. They froze suddenly, and he did the same.
"Indeed. You Noldor have made a most grievous mistake in coming here. Turn, oh audacious one, and let us see your lying face." A voice spoke, and Elrond was suddenly aware of the presence of Mirkwood soldiers all around the small clearing.
He stepped closer to his sons and turned to see a tall, thin captain. His blue eyes twinkled in amusement, and he began to laugh. "Look men! It is Lord Elrond himself! And I gather that these are his sons! Will not Thranduil be most pleased? Take them!"
Blonde elves leapt soundlessly from the brush and dragged down the three fighting Peredhil like wolves on a deer. They trussed their hands and forced them to walk at knifepoint to the gate, which was opened to catcalls and jeers by the gatemen.
Spit landed on them from all sides, and pebbles assailed them upon leaving the hands of small children who had surprising aim for their stature. The guards leered, and shoved them along, dragging the three Noldor through the city to the very palace itself.
Elrohir winced as a clod of animal dung smacked into him. The force behind the pebbles stung, and Elladan stood close to him on one side. Together they tried to spare their father, but he got the worst of it anyway.
Insults and curses grew more frequent, and several sour-face Elf women stepped forward and grabbed hanks of black hair, ripping it out from the root. The Peredhel bore the pain stoically, unflinching in the face of these petty torments. Their robes were ripped, their faces slapped, and they bled from several 'accidental' pricks of the soldiers' knives.
When they got to the palace, they did look like nadorhuanrim, as the surrounding Sindar were calling them. One of the guards went inside, and after a moment returned saying, "Give him a minute, he and his melethron have to get clothes on. Take them to the throne room, he says." Elrond felt a pang of loss and jealousy at the words.
The Noldor were dragged to their feet and carted off to said throne room, forced to kneel, and left there under the watchful eye of the throne room guards.
Thranduil, followed by Glorfindel and his son entered and sat down, looking resplendent as King, King's Consort and Crown Prince. Thranduil preened, pleased with having the Noldor on their knees at the feet of the dais.
"Why have you come?" He demanded.
"To speak to Glorfindel." Elrond answered.
Thranduil bristled.
"Speak then." Glorfindel answered flatly, his voice cold.
"I would ask something of you." He began hesitantly, not daring to look at the tall blonde.
"Ask." Again, that monotone.
"I ask your forgiveness for my actions and words. I had no right. Can you find it within your heart to forgive me?"
"My heart is closed to you. I forgive you not, dog." He answered coldly.
Sorrow overcame Elrond and he lost words and nerve, falling silent.
"You have heaped much damnation upon your head for this deed and for others, Elrond." Thranduil said, rising. "May you find prison as comfortable as did he." Thranduil stood before Elrond and kicked him swiftly in the ribs.
Elrond clutched his ribs, biting back the pain. Elladan and Elrohir would have leapt to their father's defense but for a few more well placed kicks and manhandling of the guards.
Thranduil gestured, and a nearby soldier brought him a whip. He motioned, and Elrond found his hands tied to the bridgework on the massive hall doors. He offered Glorfindel the whip, and Glorfindel accepted it, smiling grimly.
He stalked forward, and with one hand on his belly, swung the whip.
It arched through the air and met Elrond's back in a sickening snap, slicing through cloth and into flesh. Elrond screamed with the pain. The lashes were uncounted, and when Glorfindel switched hands Elrond's back was bare and bleeding. A few more strokes and screams later, Glorfindel turned around, looking positively sick.
He handed Thranduil the whip. "I cannot participate in this." He said, and then stalked out of the hall. Thranduil's lips tightened, but he did not follow the elder. He stepped forward and swung the whip again, not sparing the bound twins the view of their father's torture.
*********
Footsteps came down the corridor.
Elrond lifted his head from the pallet, trying not to reopen the wounds, weak from blood loss.
In their cell down the hall, Elladan and Elrohir, moving carefully to avoid abusing their injuries, moved to look out their tiny window. "Who is it?" Elrond rasped. No one had come down here in the last two days but the guards and a servant who brought food and bandages.
Elladan and Elrohir did not answer; instead there was the sound of the lock on his door being opened. The door opened, and a set of footsteps came to stand just inside it. A second set joined the first. Two of them, then.
The second walked closer to him. "Elrond?" It was Glorfindel, his voice light in the dark that wasn't just in Elrond's cell, but in his eyes. Elrond rolled over, looking for his love with sightless eyes. The wound on the back of his head throbbed, and Elrond felt sticky fresh blood sliding down his neck.
"Glorfindel?" He asked in wonder.
"And Legolas." Glorfindel answered.
Elrond wondered why they were here. "Come to torment me again?" he asked.
"No. Valar, Elrond, you're a mess. We brought hot water and some things for you to wear. I suppose you can dress most of your own wounds?"
Elrond smiled wryly at the warm, familiar voice. "I could, if I could see them."
"It's not that dark in here." The second voice commented.
He faced the direction it came from. "The light's not the problem. It's my eyes."
"What's wrong with your eyes?" Glorfindel's voice asked, very close. Did he fancy he heard concern in that voice?
"I was punched, and the back of my head hit the stones. I'm blind now."
"Is it permanent?" There was definitely concern and a touch of loss in that unguarded voice now. Elrond shrugged. He didn't know.
He heard Glorfindel get up. "Help me sit him up." Glorfindel said brusquely to the prince. Hands were on him then, helping him up. He winced and bit off a moan as his ears rang with the pressure of his headache. He could discern Glorfindel's familiar hands as they urged him to lean back against the wall, and leaned into them trustingly.
Fingertips batted about his cheekbones, and he smelled sweet breath as someone took a good look at his eyes. He didn't know whether it was Glorfindel or Legolas. It didn't matter. Hands stripped off his bloodied, dirty clothes and he didn't bother to fight. He heard the sounds of a cloth being dipped in water, and then someone was washing his face gently, with care.
He wanted to know who it was. He reached up and laid a hand on the lips. Glorfindel's familiar bow-shaped lips pursed under his palm and he felt a tight pinch on a pressure point along his forearm. He let go. "No touching." Glorfindel reprimanded.
He kept his hands at his sides as they washed him, even uncurling his palms to clean away the blood and grime therein. Their touches were businesslike and polite, doing him a kind favor that he knew shouldn't be allowed. Legolas washed his feet while Glorfindel impersonally washed his thighs and between them. Both blondes were silent, and he didn't feel too chatty himself.
When they were done, they applied salve to his wounds and helped him to dress, leaning him standing against the wall to do so. They changed the bloody bed, and sat him on it, giving him a tray of food before leaving.
He heard the two of them go down the hall to where the twins were, heard them talking. Elladan and Elrohir made amends with the elder easily. Legolas conferred semi-civilly with the sullen Noldor princes. Elrond only wished his turn were that easy.
Celeborn had lied. Glorfindel hated him.
And Elrond didn't blame him.
************
There was really a lot to forgiveness, Glorfindel often thought.
Sometimes, he could almost forgive Elrond. Sometimes he wished he could forget him. The man was most infuriating, or perhaps it was himself that made things so hard. Or perhaps it was the position he had put himself in. After all, he was now consort to Elrond's enemy, and bearing his child.
It seemed he had simply left one situation for another exactly the same. At least Elrond's sons hadn't had a passing crush on him. That would have been too much entirely.
Contemplating life in a tree with one hand on his belly, feeling his child move within him, all his pain and sorrow and misery seemed distant and detached, offering him a clear view on things, until that is, Thranduil came looking for him.
Thranduil wasn't a bad man, per se, any more than Elrond was, or he himself. He'd been his good friend for a long time, as long as Elrond had been. His first life, he had known what was what and what was expected of him and what to do, even unto the day of his death. This time around, he wasn't so sure.
After all, what does a fellow do when he becomes in the way of women?
Glorfindel turned to look at Thranduil inquiringly.
Thranduil laid an arm around his shoulders and a hand on his belly. That was another thing. Thranduil may not love him, and he might not love Thranduil, but the golden king genuinely loved this child. This child. Because of it he couldn't leave Elrond, and now he couldn't leave Thranduil.
Perhaps after it was born he could flee somewhere. Men wouldn't have him, and among Halflings he wouldn't be welcome, and none sailed for Valinor without the permission of the Sindar down at the Havens. There was no way he would be going to any Noldor for permission after this, even the truce with C�rdan couldn't protect him from Noldorin vengeance over Elrond's capture.
He didn't fancy the idea of staying with Thranduil forever, but there were worse fates than living as your best friend's husband. Being your love's prisoner was one of them, namely.
"I've declared war on the Noldor." Thranduil's voice was loud over the distant drone of cicadas.
Glorfindel covered Thranduil's hand with his own, but said nothing.
"Now that I have their Lord, they should be fairly easily discouraged and sent away, don't you think? The feud will end at last."
Glorfindel looked at him then. "The one in charge there, Erestor, he is stout-hearted and brave. He rode with Gil-galad. I do not think he will fall easily."
Thranduil considered it. "We outnumber them by many, and some from L�rien will perhaps come and give aid in need."
"L�rien is a haven of peace. Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn would not approve of such measures, and not many of their people would risk exile to go to war."
"Do you think they will rise against us?"
"I cannot say. But I know this, if they can impede war, they will hinder you as they see chance to."
Thranduil swore quietly. "Hopefully all this will be settled when your time comes."

Glorfindel started. He had forgotten.
"Do not worry, mellon-n�n, I daresay birthing a child will not be as terrible as battling a Balrog."
He could not contain his snort. "Indeed. Have you felt how this thing kicks? It's a Balrog in and of itself."
Thranduil laughed, kissing the nape of Glorfindel's neck as he left the tree. "Pray then, that their manners are not so when he or she is grown."
And with that Thranduil left Glorfindel to this new thought. Would it be son or daughter? What would it look like? Who would it be like? And grown�
********
"Where's Glorfindel?" Elladan demanded, remaining curled around his sleeping brother. They had lain together less often recently, and although a prison cell just down the hall from their father wasn't the most idealistic place, muffling their cries and spooning one another had been effective enough that Elrohir was sleeping well for the first time in nearly the month they had been here.
Legolas raised a brow at the blanket-covered twins, and the glaring Noldorin prince who had asked the question. "He is resting. He is getting too large to come down and tend you Noldor every single day like he has. If you do not want the food I have brought, I will take it and leave."
"Amin uuma merna ta. Kela." Elladan spat in Sindarin, so the prince would mistake not his words.
"Amin uuma malla." Legolas sneered, setting down the tray. "Eat it anyway. I hope you choke, you ungrateful bastard."
"I! I, the ungrateful bastard? Indeed! And what have I to be grateful for?" Elladan asked, outraged.
"Your brother, who apparently means more to you than you let on-judging by a smell few couldn't identify, is here with you. Your father is still alive by Glorfindel's mercy a dozen times over. And yet he waddles down here, his belly full of a burden of rape, every single day to see that you are well treated and in good spirits."
"In our prison, we only taunted him. And he was so sick all the time, without Erestor he would have surely died." Elrohir said quietly, announcing that he was awake.
"Pity then, for this Erestor will surely force my adar to kill him unless he surrenders to the ransom of you and departs with all his people."
Both twins jerked to attention. "Your father is at war on the Noldor?"
Legolas nodded. "He seeks to drive them from these lands in retribution for all the past ills in the times of Morgoth. Now, if you excuse me, I must see to your father, and inquire if his sight is returning."
With that, the insulted prince left the cell, locking it up tightly after him.
***********
Elrond woke to Glorfindel entering the cell. He'd grown used to the blonde coming in every day or so to check on him, sending down Legolas when he couldn't come. He sat up, turning habitually toward the source of noise. He could hear Glorfindel eating something.
"Hungry?" the familiar voice asked.
Elrond nodded. An apple was pressed into his palm.
He smiled at the feel of the lush, hard fruit, and swiped it over his sleeve before taking a bite, trying to rid it of any dirt he might not be able to feel. It was good. Sweet, crisp and juicy, he enjoyed every bite, not having had fruit since he'd left Imladris's orchards behind.
He heard Glorfindel pause and suck in air over his teeth. It sounded as if he were in pain. "Glorfindel?" He inquired uneasily.
"Yes Elrond?" Well, the blonde's voice sounded normal, but he could be hiding pain easily.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Just got kicked in a tender spot, is all."
"Kicked?" He repeated in awe.
"Yeah. It's playtime in there, apparently."
Elrond suddenly felt dizzy. "Oh Valar. It's real, isn't it?"
Glorfindel chuckled. "Of course. Wish you could see, sometimes. It's amazing."
"May I feel?"
The question hung in the air a moment. Glorfindel shrugged. "I don't see why not." There was a rustling of fabric, and then he stepped forward and took Elrond's hands and laid them on his now bare stomach.
Elrond gasped. Glorfindel's skin was warm and soft, smooth but for the slight ridges of stretch marks over on his sides. His belly was round and full, heavy under Elrond's palms. Under the skin stretched taut the curve of his stomach was firm and ripe, and inside where weightlessness reigned, a fluttering sensation could be felt, followed by a sharp kick under the side of his hand.
"Feel over here." Glorfindel offered, redirecting Elrond's hand. "Guess what that is." He said, his smile carrying over into his voice.
Elrond pressedh hih his fingers gently, afraid to hurt Glorfindel and lose the privilege. His fingers mapped the slight contours, forming an image in his mind. "It's a bottom." He said at last.
"Its head is under my ribs." Glorfindel replied, and Elrond's fingers kept up their creeping over Glorfindel's changed form. "May I listen?" Elrond ventured, wishing he could see.
"Yes." Glorfindel said, as hesitantly as he felt.
Elrond leaned forward and applied his ear to the firm curve. He could hear swishing sounds, and the steady beat of Glorfindel's heart, but no more kicks or other easily detected movement. "I think someone fell asleep." Elrond confided.
"Don't let it fool you. That's one sly Elfling; he or she may pelt you in the head yet. Just wait a moment."
Elrond did as he said, but wondered if he pressed closer, perhaps he could hear the little one's heartbeat as well. He laid his hands on Glorfindel's lower back and pressed himself closer.
Glorfindel took a deep breath, and Elrond became aware of a slight musky scent wafting under his nose a moment. It took him a moment to place the scent of arousal, and when he did he became excruciatingly aware of a sudden heat and pulsing hardness even with his neck. So he doesn't hate me after all. He released Glorfindel, and both pulled away, flushing and saying nothing of it.
Glorfindel left after seeing that Elrond had what he needed, and as he turned the key in the lock, Elrond said quietly, "Thank you." Glorfindel couldn't bring himself to answer and betray the tears slipping down his face.
************
Special thanks to Trisha for letting me pet her tummy, and for baby Brenna acting up in there. You girls made this story rock! (And no, it was nothing like the scene above but for the baby kicking and some of the �sensation descriptions�, ie-what having a baby thumping about in your gut feels sort of like.)
Translations:

Elladan: "Amin uuma merna ta. Kela." = "I don't want it. Go away."

Legolas: "Amin uuma malla." = "I don't care."

Nadorhuanrim = cowardly dogs, thus the 'dog' comment from Glorfindel.

Melethron = male lover, ie consort.
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