Part 9

Erestor entered the study quietly, wishing he didn't need to do this. But Legolas was right. Escape was not an option. He looked at the young elf sitting on the wide windowsill staring at the trees outside. His long, silver hair were gathered in a single braid, leaving his face exposed. The strong, bright mornings sun highlighted the still blue bruise in his face and bruises on his neck. Erestor nearly gasped at seeing them.

Lindir was an elf. He should have healed long ago, but now, two and a half week after that terrible night, he still looked like that morning Erestor woke up in his bed.

Erestor kept still, not wanting the younger elf to discover him just yet. He knew what he had to do. He knew that the day he left the Last homely House like a coward. He could no longer trust. Not Lindir, not himself. He was a violent warrior. He had blood on his hands and sometimes small thing pushed him off balance and he was dangerous then. Being in loose relationships with other warriors, like Legolas was much safer. If anything happened, he was sure the Golden Prince knew how to defend himself. Surely he would cause him considerable damage if Erestor ever attacked him for real.

Lindir was different. He touched something deep inside him, that was hidden for millennia and Erestor didn't like it. Still he had to admit he desired the elf greatly. Even now, watching him sit on the windowsill, lost in thoughts so completely that he wasn't even aware that he was being watched.

Erestor always liked his lovers strong, more experienced. Even Legolas who looked like the most innocent creature on the whole Arda but was more wicked than any elf should for his own good. But he found the slim figure if the scribe very attractive. The way he wrapped those long limbs around him, when they made love… the way his pale eyes betrayed each and every feeling. His mind flickered back to all the times when Lindir submitted to him. That day at the lake, when he took the lashing without any bonds…

He loved the sweet, simple smell of his young lover. And although he didn't want to admit it, he adored the soft, murmured words of love when Lindir thought he wouldn't hear them.

Erestor watched the delicate features and the sight of bruises reminded him of his task. He needed to apologize for his behavior and end this once and for all.

"Lindir…" he called softly.

Before the younger elf had the time to turn around and relies who was calling him, Erestor had his face under perfect control. He would not allow Lindir to see his inner turmoil.

"Erestor?!" exclaimed the scribe and jumped from the windowsill, directing his steps to his lover but the cold that he saw in his dark eyes stopped him short.

They stood facing each other, not sure how to start, what to say, what to do. Lindir shivered under the oblivious gaze that regarded him without any emotion.

"Erestor?" he asked again, hating the slight hitch in his voice. "You came back?"

Erestor nodded, fixing his eyes on the still so very dark bruises. It was his fault. It were his hands that did this.

Elven rate of healing depended on their emotional state. If the elf was unhappy or in emotional pain, his wounds refused to heal properly and even simple bruises could linger for months. It was just another proof that he should never get close to anybody again.

"I need to apologize to you." Erestor finally started, carefully keeping his voice devoid of emotions.

Lindir wanted to ask him many more questions but the cold, empty way Erestor spoke to him, as if he was a mere stranger, forced the words back into his throat.

"I am truly sorry for the way I treated you that night. It was inadmissible. I hope you will accept my apologies."

Lindir went absolutely still. He felt tears gather in his eyes again. The way Erestor spoke to him… avoided looking him in the eyes… it all caused him to have bad feeling about this talk. Something deep inside him knew what it meant, he just didn't want to admit it. It was simply too painful. He knew that if he lost Erestor he would die. It was easier when he knew Erestor would never be his, when he didn't know the touch of the dark haired elf… but loosing it…

If only Erestor wasn't so cold! Lindir would have forgave him everything for a simple sorry and a kiss. Not this elegant, impersonal apologizing that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Erestor…" he whispered brokenly, dreading each next word.

"I decided that it would be best for all if we parted and forgot about everything that happened. Our… relationship was a mistake from the beginning."

"But… you were happy with me!" exclaimed Lindir suddenly. "You… you said so yourself!"

"I enjoyed our couplings, yes." he watched Lindir pale at the crude words but kept his face.

"But… why? Why break up with me?"

"Let's be true. You can not trust me not to hurt you." And I can not trust myself anymore, Erestor added in his thoughts.

Erestor hated the wounded look in those pale, blue eyes that widened in pain, as if Erestor had dealt him a fatal blow. But then he saw a flicker of something in those eyes, fire, a wish to fight… Lindir was not going to just let him go. Although the scribe was a gentle soul he was brave and strong and would fight for his happiness. But Erestor couldn't allow this. He stilled himself and summoned the years of experience in politics disputes, in dealing with people and let words spill from his mouth, watching with clinical detachment the pain register on Lindir. Surprise than shame…

"But…"

"Lindir. You are very attractive, young elf. But you are inexperienced and certainly no match for me, young one. I admit that you were exquisite entertainment for a while, but as all new things, you became boring." During his little speech he watched Lindir go from pale to deathly white. His lips suddenly became blue and his eyes so dark, that the blue was barely visible. The younger Elf was in deep shock and Erestor wondered if he wasn't too harsh. But he needed to do this, to cut each and every bond that connected them.

Then maybe both would learn to live again.

"I have a meeting with Elrond today so you are given a day free…"

But Lindir did not hear him anymore. Just his previous words played in his mind and started mixing with the words he heard thrown at him so many years ago. Words that he hoped never to hear again…

/You are nothing more that a slut, Lindir. Not so pure anymore, huh?!/

/You were an entertainment/

/Get up! Get out of my bed Lindir, I surely don't want you here for the night. You are good for fucking but nothing more/

/You became boring…/

Lindir never remembered now he got out of the study and stumbled into his chambers.

Dirty.

He felt so incredibly dirty… the love he had for Erestor… the things he let him do… the things he enjoyed… gods, he wanted to die…

He lay on the bed and curled himself into a tight ball, letting the tears to stream down his face. He felt so dirty, dirty… Images of Erestor and his first lover mingled in his memory till they became one. Blurry image of hurt and betrayal.

Lindir buried his face in the pillow and screamed his pain and hurt away, wishing desperately that he could fade into nothingness, disappear, cease to exist. That it would all just fade away. His body and should hurt so bad he though he would go mad just from the pain. His thought were a hectic jumble of images and sounds. Cruel words spoken to him so often… he felt like a whore that was used one time too much. The realization that each elf that touched him intimately, took him into his bed, had never cared really for him, hurt so bad he thought he could burst from it.

* * *

Very slowly Erestor closed the door to his chambers behind him and locked it. The image of Lindir stumbling blindly from the office, his face so pale that Erestor was actually worried for him, made something in him clench.

He opened the cabinet and selected the most potent bottle of wine he had and opened it. His hands shook so hard he couldn't pour it into the goblet. The look in Lindir's eyes still haunted him. He could swear he saw his spirit break. Right there and then,. Telling him all those cruel, crude words he realized that Lindir loved him and had already forgiven him for his behavior. He could swear he saw the last shreds of hope and innocence crash in that moment. He has never seen a person so broken… innocent soul hurt so much by his cold words.

Erestor closed his eyes and started drinking straight from the bottle, trying to stifle the strange, burning pain in his chest with the potent drink.

* * *

Legolas knocked at Lindir's door. Elrohir was worried bout the young scribe. They returned yesterday night and Erestor promised to talk to Lindir in the morning. Yet it was almost midnight and he haven't seen nor Lindir nor Erestor. Worried, he decided to go and find Lindir. Elrohir offered to try to find Erestor. However he didn't manage.

When he got no response, he looked over his shoulder at the dark haired Elf. Elrohir answered him, equally worried.

"I think I can sense him in there. The room is not empty, melethron."

Legolas gripped the handle and tried it. to his surprise the door swung open and revealed small bedroom and a fragile figure curled on the bed.

"Lindir!" Legolas exclaimed seeing the unnatural stillness of the scribes body.

Both Elves approached the silver haired Elf.

"What has happened to him?" asked Legolas, shocked by the strangely dead look in those pale blue eyes that were half closed.

Elrohir reached his hand and touched Lindir's neck, trying to measure his pulse and hissed when he realized just how weak it was.

"We have to get him warm, melethron." said Elrohir tugging at Lindir's clothes. At first Legolas was confused. If Elrohir wanted to get Lindir warm, why was he undressing him? But then he realized that the dark haired Elf wanted to share his body heat with the scribe.

Scolded by his lover's hard look Legolas started pulling on his clothes also. He was aware of Elrohir "special" sensitivity to emotions. The Peredhel never spoke about it openly, but Legolas did see things he dis and sometimes he slipped, and told a little too much.

Putting his trust in his lover, Legolas obeyed and joined him ion the bed, on the other side of the terrifyingly still elf. They pressed as close as possible, and Elrohir pulled covers over them.

Legolas almost hissed when his bare chest connected with the freezing flesh of the younger Elf.

"What is going on with him? I can't see any wounds… and his eyes! By the Valar he looks so… lifeless." Legolas rarely felt so lost, uncertain of what to do. He was a prince, maybe third in the line for the throne, nevertheless he was trained to be able to make decisions in any circumstances. Now, however he felt lost and suddenly so very young, not mentioning that he was worried. Although he never really knew Lindir, he came to like the gentle Elf. He was calm, gentle in spirit yet very strong. He was also very competent. One couldn't be Erestor's advisor without quick mind and sharp wit. The older elf would just ignore Lindir, if he didn't raise to his standards.

Legolas always pictured Lindir as quiet but strong Elf, and couldn't understand what was happening to him now.

"What has happened to him, Elrohir? "

The other elf had his arms wrapped around the scribe and his eyes closed. Even though Legolas's attention was now focused on Lindir, he couldn't stop from noticing how the dark, thick and long eyelashes shadowed his pale cheeks, making him look so young and innocent. And for a brief moment Legolas felt a stab of pain at the thought of the innocence lost by the twins, after their mother was attacked.

Elrohir closed his eyes and concentrated. He was reluctant to use his mind on the elf again, but the very fact that he had at least once touched it already made is easier for him to reach the scribe. When he opened himself to the emotions around, first he felt Legolas, what surprised him, because Legolas always controlled his emotions. In many ways he was very close to Erestor. On the outside he seemed very explosive but inside, he always controlled his temper and Elrohir felt it. somehow it was easier to have him around, he gave him psychical comfort.

Now however his emotions hit Elrohir hard. The love/ affection/ regret and strange underline of fear took him aback, but it must have been caused by Lindir's state.

He focused on the scribe, trying to determine what has happened to him. His mind felt… strange. Cold… numb… floating. It was hard to actually feel him and it scared Elrohir. His ability to feel other minds, even the barest echo of them, what his way of perceiving the world. And if something existed, lived then he could sense it. And if he couldn't it meant the person was dead.

And he had real troubles with sensing Lindir at all! It indicated that he was dangerously close to… fading.

Suddenly something changed and Elrohir touched his mind and the feelings that slammed into him, forced a choked scream out of him. Pain, anguish, shame… god it hurt. He quickly withdrew and lay panting for a long moment, trying to regain some semblance of balance.

"He is fading." he said quietly, seeing how anxious to ask questions Legolas was.

"This I can see, but why?"

"He is fading from grief, lover. Pain so deep and so strong it tears him apart. But it is not only this. He is loathing himself, the shame is almost suffocating him!"

"But… this is unheard of. It took eves years to fade from grief and he was safe and sound yesterday night! What has happened?"

"I don't know but… I think it has something to do with Erestor. After all he was supposed to talk to him this morning."

Legolas was quiet for a while and then his face changed when he realized what Erestor must have done. His whole body tensed as a wave of rage surged through him. He heard Elrohir's gasp, when the other elf, his mind still open and tender, picked up on his emotions. He did his best to subside it, but rage still burned in his veins.

/That stupid bastard! How dare he do it like this! How dare he break such a sweet creature like Lindir only to save his heart from "possible" pain?/ he raged, simultaneously rubbing the smaller Elf's shoulders to pour some heat into him.

"Erestor broke up with him, didn't he?" asked Elrohir quietly, wrapping himself around Lindir even more.

"I fear so." sighed Legolas and then continued. "But Lindir wouldn't have agreed to it without a battle, so he had to make something drastic to push Lindir away."

They were silent for a ling time.

"Ai, Lirimaer, he is not getting any warmer." said Legolas sensing the cold getting stronger in the younger Elf.

"I think… I think I know what to do. But… I am not sure…" stammered Elrohir.

"Say it. Surely there is nothing you can do to make things worse now. He is dying and we must do something."

Elrohir blushed and Legolas cocked his eyebrow. Elrohir rarely blushed.

"When… when my mother left for Valinor, my father was grieving so strongly, that we feared he would fade. Finally, one morning, he didn't wake up and became so incredibly cold… We were terrified. No one knew what to do. It was my father who was the healer. But suddenly Erestor chased us all form his chambers and stayed with our father. The next day Ada woke up. He was still in great pain, but his condition started improving. I… I was curious what magic did Erestor perform on Ada to cure him, so I climbed the tree outside his chambers and… spied on them."

When Elrohir stopped his tale obviously living it all again, Legolas stayed quiet, only rubbing Lindir's arms and waited.

"He… Erestor laid with my father, Legolas… he made love to Adar… and it prevented him from fading. At first I was shocked by what I saw. It wasn't the fact that two males laid together, for then I knew that my attraction laid in my own gender."

"So what was it?" asked Legolas carefully.

"It was the fact that Adar fought Erestor. He tried to get the advisor off of him. But his body was so thin it was painfully to look at and he had no strength. I watched Erestor, who with calmness and kind of gentle aggression divested him of clothes and bound his wrists. I was so scared, so disgusted and terrified by the scene that I nearly fell of the tree. Needless to say that I thought that my father is being attacked and in my panic I went to the person I trusted most in this condition. Glorfindel, and thank the Valar I did! He caught me and noting my distress, calmed me down. I was babbling but nevertheless he understood what got me so scared. He gave me the most potent wine he could find and forced me to dawn it in one swallow. When I was dazed enough he explained it to me. Erestor took my father to keep him alive. It wasn't a rape… or maybe it was. I am not sure and I think that nor was Glorfindel. He explained to me however that thanks to Erestor, father stopped grieving so hard after our mother because his pain was transferred into anger, confusion… even hate towards Erestor. It kept him alive and when he finally understood that Erestor was only trying to help, the wound caused by my mother's leaving had healed enough, so that it wasn't threatening his life anymore. After that I have seen Erestor and Adar talking and seeming very close friends… closer than before. "

"So you suggest…"

"Aye. We should make love to Lindir."

"But he isn't even conscious!" The very idea of taking advantage of such a suffering soul, made Legolas shudder.

"Would you rather see him dead? If he doesn't want to die, no medication will help."

"I know… I just need a moment to think about it." said Legolas and looked at the vulnerable Elf in his arms. There wasn't anything to ponder, he decided. There was no way he would let Lindir die like this - in loneliness and pain.

* * *

Elrond was woken by not-so-subtle knocking at his door. Immediately he jerked up, alarmed that something wrong must have happened.

He went to the door and opened them wide gasping at the sight in front of him.

Leaning on the wall, with a large bottle in hand stood Erestor. He was clad only in dark breeches and was shirtless. His bare torso glittered in the faint light of the lamps. His hair were dishelmed and loose, falling in black wave nearly to the middle of his back. His eyes were strangely dark, hiding something very disturbing and his pose lacked his usual formality, Erestor trademark.

"What happened?" asked Elrond, shocked to the core.

Erestor gave him a smile absolutely devoid of mirth.

"Care to drink with me, my lord?" he asked waving a bottle in front of him, the brushing past Elrond inside his chambers.

The Peredhil remembered only one occasion when Erestor held no regard to his position, acting as if he was allowed to do everything his wanted. He watched Erestor sit himself in one of the chairs in front of the barely burning fireplace as if he owned the place, body moving with barely contained aggression and eyes hiding pain so deep…

…… Celebrian had left few weeks ago, but the time was an endless parade of minutes that never ended for Elrond,. Loneliness, pain… vague sense of betrayal because she didn't have the strength to fight, and disgust with himself for such thought. He barely ate, never slept and just existed, hating himself fro the pain he caused his children, but incapable of living such a lonely life.

He knew that something happened, because he was so close to the halls of Mandos, he could feel it. he was nearly there, but something pulled him. His brain was however too foggy to understand what happened.

He woke up feeling… better. Confused but better. However the improvement didn't last long. In few days time, he started feeling the incredible loss again, pulling him deeper into the cold.

That night however he was conscious. He remembered sitting on the fur in front of the fireplace staring dumbly into the flames, wishing he had the courage to finish it once and for all.

Suddenly the doors to his chambers opened. He jerked surprised. Who would dare to… his thought stopped at seeing Erestor. His friend and advisor wasn't looking at all like himself. His hair were flying loose like a silken wave of ebony, soft fur and his eyes were hard, shadowed, hiding something. He had tight black leggings on and a thin, black tunic on. He kept something in his hand.

The elf stood closed the door and stopped for a moment, staring at Elrond with unreadable eyes. He was holding something in his hand but it wasn't what scared Elrond. It was his gaze. Hard, demanding and so dangerous and unyielding.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Elrond harshly.

"I am here to end your folly. You will not die Elrond. I will do anything to make sure of it, no matter if you consent to it or no."

"Wha…"

But he wasn't given a chance to ask. Erestor, fast as only an assassin can be, tackled Elrond to the ground and had his wrists pinned above his head in no time. Before he realized what was happening Erestor, with deadly precision, cut all his clothes away, leaving him naked and shivering.

"Stop it! I will call for guards! You will be punished for it!}

Erestor stopped and looked him in the eyes - his hard and threatening. Elrond suddenly remembered that it was an ancient elf that he was much older than himself. In fact he even helped to raise him and his brother Elros.

"There will be no guards tonight at you door, nor any night I will choose to come to you." Suddenly Elrond realized he was at his mercy. He started fighting Erestor, wanting to throw him off but to no avail. Weeks of barely eating and no sleeping made his body thin and weak and he soon was panting in exhaustion, looking up at Erestor, who obviously was waiting till Elrond would tire.

"You are my friend Elrond, one of the few. I will do ANYTHING to save you." With that his hands and lips descended on the Peredhil, caressing, kissing and licking his chest, stomach… when the advisor leaned for a kiss, Elrond jerked his head away. He was humiliated by his body's reaction, by his helplessness.

There was a dangerous gleam in Erestor's eyes and he moved again. Straddled Elrond and used his tunic to tie his wrist together, then, never leaving Elrond's terrified eyes, he used his dagger to pin his hands above his head.

Elrond was completely at his mercy. His hands pined above his head, his legs and lower body pressed into the floor by Erestor's weight. The Peredhel started shivering when Erestor took his face in one, surprisingly strong hand for someone who spend last few millennia behind the desk and pressed behind the joint of his jaw, forcing his lips slightly apart, then leaned closer and kissed. Deep, demanding kiss that left no room for arguing who was in charge here, but there was also a little tenderness.

Elrond thrashed again, shame eating on him, fear and he fought Erestor again, but it was to no avail. His body already started reacting and it was all against everything he believed in, wanted…

He actually cried when Erestor slid lower down his body and without any preamble, took his half hard erection in his mouth and started caressing it skillfully, keeping his hips in strong grip, preventing from squirming away. To Elrond's utter disgust, his elfhood hardened completely, when his body betrayed him. When he thought it can not get any worse, he felt Erestor's slick fingers probing his entrance and he howled in anger and shame.

"Damn you Erestor! What kind of person are you?! This is a rape! You are not helping me, you are hurting me!"

But Erestor didn't listen. However Elrond was too tense to allow any kind of penetration without pain. Erestor was however determined to carry out his plan and started sucking harder on the Peredel's erection, quickly forcing a strong orgasm from him.

"No… stop Erestor… please stop… " Elrond was now begging, face wet from tears and body flushed and pliant after the orgasm, no matter how unwanted it was.

Erestor didn't answer. He just opened the vial he brought with him and coated first his own erection, not bothering even to disrobe completely, and then slicked his fingers once again. This time one finger slid easily into Elrond's anus, then second and third when he worked on loosing the passage.

"Stop it!"

But Erestor didn't even look up at him, focused only on his task, and Elrond hated him for his own body's reactions. For the arousal that started pooling in his abdomen again, for the fact that the post coital relaxation made it impossible to fight Erestor, for the fact that his thin, fading body made him so weak and vulnerable.

"I hate you!" exclaimed Elrond when the fingers were removed and he felt the tip of his advisor's erection press into his opening slowly, carefully yet with unyielding insistence.

These words finally elicited some kind of reaction from Erestor.

"Do you really? Do you think I have never noticed how you looked at me, young one? You fancied me and desired my body for a long time. Besides, your own body betrayed your real thoughts. You wouldn't have reacted to a person you… hate " He finished sinking his entire, large length into the too thin body.

Elrond closed his eyes, panting and crying in equal part from shame , pain, pleasure and anger on Erestor and on himself.

"I hate you… I will never forgive you this!"

Soon however he wasn't able to speak, when Erestor started slow and steady thrusting and his hand started caressing Elrond's hardening arousal.

Erestor took him with ease and obvious skill, controlling Elrond's body as if it was his own, murmuring soft words of praise and affection that only confused Elrond more. Part of him wanted to hear them, but other was angry on Erestor for using soft words where his actions were a pure contradiction.

His second orgasm took him by surprise, his body suddenly convulsed and he shoot allover his stimach, desperate, ashamed and so absolutely lost.

"I hate you…" he whispered tiredly, never noticing that his own hips raised to meet the final thrusts of his advisor and friend. He felt Erestor swell impossibly larger inside him and then coat his insides with his release, causing a moan to escape his lips.

Afterwards Elrond just laid there, exhausted, angry… with so many emotions inside him, that he was barely aware of his surrounding. He came to only when he felt strong hands roll him on his side and then circle him. He found himself face to face with Erestor's chest and suddenly all broke inside him. He tensed in the embrace for a moment, but then he couldn't stand it. The pain and the loneliness and he encircled Erestor with his own hands, holding him as if he was his lifeline and crying into his chest murmuring words of hate and gratefulness. Because it was real, it was something he could hold on to. Not the pain and hollowness of loneliness, just this real thing, the real warm body beside him that was now holding him, and stroking his hair murmuring soft, sweet words of reassurance.

Finally, after what seemed eternity, Elrond's sobs subsided and his panic eased. Still he stayed in Erestor's arms, sighing gratefully when the older Elf covered them with a soft blanked.

"Don't go…" Elrond was surprised at his own words. He was still hurt, angry and ashamed of what happened, but… Erestor was near, was here and was holding him, and Elrond needed it so desperately! "Don't leave me alone…"

"I won't. " murmured Erestor softly, drawing the weak Elf closer into his arms and kissing the top of his head. "You will be all right, my friend. I will see to it." And it was not a question, not just an empty phrase to console him in his grief. It wasn't even a promise. It was just a statement of fact.

……… And now, looking at the disturbed Elf, sitting in his chair in front of the fireplace, drinking a potent brandy straight from the bottle, Elrond felt gratefulness and love for Erestor, for what he did for him.

Erestor spend with him few more nights, each time there was a fight, an exclamation of hate, threats… Erestor kept coming back till Elrond finally gave up. The night when Elrond topped fighting and enjoyed himself, was the last night. After that Erestor never came back to his chambers at night, nor did he mention the events.

Elrond knew that Erestor saved his life, making himself an object of all those strong, conflicting emotions… it took his mind away from the real pain. And the things he said about Elronds attraction to the Chief Advisor had been also truth. He was attracted to Erestor. On purely physical level. He was not in love with him, but still admired his form and his strength.

And now, staring at his shadowed face Elrond knew it was his turn to help his friend. He wanted to ask what was going on, but knew that the advisor would not tell him. He never did.

So instead he took a goblet from the cabinet and sat in the chair next to Erestor, reaching the goblet in his direction, offering his presence, his silent comfort. Everything Erestor needed.

"You are not alone my friend." whispered Elrond softly, seeing the dark eyes hooded with pain and… guilt?

Erestor looked at him only once, catching his gaze for the briefest of moments and then poured him brandy. It was going to be along night.

* * *

“Omnes vulnerant, postuma necat” – They all hurt, but it is the last that kills.

“I think that we should take him to my rooms, Elrohir. This bed is… too small and somebody might disturb us. My chambers are more private. No one will ask questions if I request a breakfast for several people.”

Elrohir nodded in agreement. Legolas was right. That was also the reason why Elrohir was always sleeping in his rooms, not his own. If somebody noticed that the prince of Imladris had guests during the night, they would keep speculating and in effect, give them no privacy.

Working quickly, they got up and dressed themselves, then Lindir. Thoughtful as always, Elrohir strayed a little to get fresh clothes for the Scribe. When he woke up, he would need them.

Slowly and making sure no one saw them, they made their way to Legolas’s chambers. Elrohir kept looking over his shoulder at his lover carrying the white haired Elf with such tenderness. It always surprised him that Legolas could be harsh and demanding one minute and incredibly tender and patient the next.

When they reached Legolas’s chamber, Elrohir regretted for a moment that they wouldn’t be able to play their games tonight; he had to leave for a week long patrol the day after tomorrow.

Legolas watched the still, lifeless figure in his arms and cursed Erestor for his inability to trust. Damn it! The white haired Elf deserved the love Erestor could give him, if he ever decided to trust him enough.

With Elrohir’s help, they undressed the chilled Elf and then got rid of the clothes themselves. After they slid under the covers, there was an awkward moment. Neither of them knew how to treat a lifeless lover, but the situation was very serious. Lindir was getting colder and colder by the moment. Finally, they started mapping his body with hesitant, almost shy touches. Not caressing yet, merely getting to know him.

Lindir was so different from them. Where their arms were well defined and muscular from wielding different kinds of weapons, Lindir was smooth and his body looked more like that of a youth. And although the Elf was much younger than any of them, he was well past his majority.

Finally, it was Legolas who made the first real move. He moved the limp Elf on his back and carefully poised himself above him, then leaned closer and kissed him. First, it was just a chaste brush of warm lips over the chilled ones, but then Legolas recalled the way Lindir had looked that first night when he’d lured him into his chamber pretending to be jealous over Erestor. Lindir had been excited and scared, but still moved gracefully in the dark room. It was lit by only a few candles and the way the light played on his pale skin when he kneeled in front of Legolas…

The golden prince slowly deepened the kiss, pressing just a little harder, forcing the yielding lips to open up a little more and then slipped his tongue inside to taste the younger Elf.

Lindir hadn’t reacted but his body did seem a little warmer. He felt a touch at his arm and obediently moved aside only to see the dark haired head of his lover hover above the smooth chest of the unconscious Lindir and then the dark, cherry red lips press themselves to the nipple, making soft, suckling sounds.

Legolas moaned at the sight and moved to the long pale throat that looked so enticing and fastened his lips over the tender flesh behind the ear, making sure that the passion mark would be clear and visible. He caught Elrohir’s eyes and the spark in the gray orbs told him that he also understood what was going on and moved to the other side of Lindir's neck, sucking with fervor on the skin there. Erestor would go mad when he saw the clear marks of passion.

Legolas stroked the pale chest; pleased to feel it slightly warmer, not so deadly cold. He smiled when he felt Elrohir’s finger interlace with his over Lindir's tummy and then, with their hands still touching, slid them lower over the elf’s abdomen and started stroking him slowly as they enjoying the touch of the silky, slowly hardening flesh as well as their own hands.

Lindir was pulled from the quiet, cold but peaceful place he was resting back into the world of consciousness and didn’t like it a bit. The strange feeling of warmth enveloping him was pleasant but he had a vague feeling that there was something important that told him to stay in that strange, secluded place. Something he didn’t want to remember.

He wasn’t awake yet, but he wasn’t in that far away place either. The warmth he was feeling slowly changed into something more solid. Not only the psychical warmth, also the pure psychological one.

It took him a moment to realize that someone was touching him. The vague feeling that he should come back to the place he just left, telling him that there was something that forced him to hide there, was now only a nagging, strange feeling at the back of his mind.

But he was more conscious by the minute and his mind was more active now. Suddenly, it all came back to him. Cold, black eyes looking straight at him and telling him all those terrible things.

Lindir wasn’t aware of the keening wail that left his lips when he was finally awake and remembered everything. God, but it hurt even worse now than when Erestor had first left him. Then, shock and confusion dulled the impact of the Advisor’s words. Now however, the pain came back with crushing strength.

Lindir felt as if his heart was ripped from him and shredded without mercy. He gave Erestor everything he had, everything he believed in, everything he was, only to have it thrown back at him.

Shame and pain flooded him, nearly suffocating him with grief. He wasn’t aware of the tears and tremors that rocked his body until he started noticing the outside world again. First, he became aware of the soothing touches bestowed on him and the crooned words murmured softly into his ear.

Desperately, he wanted it to be Erestor. Maybe the Advisor changed his mind… and he knew these thoughts were humiliating, but he would give everything to have him back. Everything.

“Shh, Sweet One, don’t cry…” If it was possible these words hurt even more, because he realized that it wasn’t Erestor… not his voice.

Lindir opened his eyes and blinked, surprised at the sight that greeted him. Hovering above him, propped up on their elbows and on each side of him were two obviously naked Elves.

“Legolas? Elrohir?” He croaked, surprised at his raspy voice. “What…”

However he couldn’t finish the question when another sob wracked his body. His confusion considering the strange position he found himself in was drowned by the realization that Erestor had thrown him away like a broken, used toy.

Some part of him was surprised at how emotional he was. Yes he did feel deeply for the Advisor, but never had he acted so hysterical in front of others!

“Shh… Little One. Don’t think about it. Don’t cry… let us make love to you Lirimaer… let us give you comfort…” Murmured Legolas softly against his lips and then kissed him with such sweetness that it took Lindir's breath away. He never would’ve suspected that Legolas was capable of such tenderness. And all the while the golden haired prince devoured his mouth, coaxing his tongue to come out and play. He felt another set of hands touching him, mapping his body, sending shivers of pleasure through it.

Each and every coherent thought was forced out of his mind when he felt hot, moist breath at the tip of his already hardening member. He was excited, but still he was too troubled to become fully erect, the distress keeping the arousal at bay. But Elrohir had nothing of it and without any preamble leaned closer to lick. Lindir whimpered when he felt the first gentle sweeps of his tongue on the sensitive flesh, now hardening quickly. Legolas never did leave his mouth, barely breaking the kiss to allow him take a breath before diving for more.

The sweet scent of lavender filled the air, but Lindir didn’t realize just what it was until he felt two slick fingers sneaking between his legs to touch his puckered opening.

Any thought of protest left his mind when Legolas reached to stroke and lightly pinch his nipples.

Soon, he found himself spreading his legs on his own, eagerly waiting for the slick, careful touch. Somewhere deep inside he knew he could trust them to take care of him, to not hurt him.

He sighed into the kiss when slick fingers circled his opening, massaging gently not trying to push inside. His member was already hard and leaking. He couldn’t think about anything other than his body and the other two elves touching him so beautifully.

He tensed when the first finger breached him, but didn’t try to get away from the touch. Seeing his discomfort and sudden tension, Elrohir opened his lips and took his leaking erection once again, swirling his tongue teasingly over the head.

Legolas chose that moment to leave his mouth and lowered himself. Just when Elrohir started suckling at his shaft, he felt other set of lips at his nipple, sucking so hard it was driving him insane.

Lindir arched from the bed with a loud moan, never noticing that Elrohir had already eased two fingers in his tight passage.

As if waiting for this, Legolas stopped and propped himself on an elbow and made a show of looking at Lindir, from his flushed face and mussed hair, lower and lower still, until his steady gaze was fixed on the juncture of his legs where two sleek fingers disappeared and reappeared in his tight passage.

“Saes…” Moaned Lindir, writhing under the skillful touch of the two Elves.

“Soon Lirimaer, soon… now… watch me!” It was not a plea, it was an order and Lindir obliged.

He watched Legolas reach to the jar of lavender smelling oil on the bedside table and dip two fingers in it slowly. Then the golden haired prince scooted a little lower on the bed, still looking Lindir straight in the eye.

Lindir's breath hitched when he saw Legolas’s hand touch Elrohir’s arm and then trail very slowly lower, till it reached the hand between his legs. The scribe felt the fingers in him stop moving, stop their constant, pleasurable stretch and in helpless fascination watched as the newly oiled fingers of Legolas traveled lower until it touched the lightly stretched opening.

Lindir shivered when he realized what Legolas wanted to do. He braced himself and then felt the additional pressure. It didn’t exactly hurt but it was a little too much nonetheless. He already had two fingers in him and the additional two were almost a painful stretch. Erestor had never splayed him like this.

He gasped when suddenly, his body gave up under the steady pressure of Legolas’s fingers and he felt them slip in. His anus burned with the stretch and his passage tensed, causing him more pain, but this didn’t stop Legolas’s who was murmuring sweet nothings and all the time pushing his fingers along Elrohir’s into the heat that was Lindir.

When they both were buried to the last knuckle, they stopped and gave Lindir time to breathe. Elrohir leaned over the erection that hadn’t wilted even during the painful entrance. He licked it gently and sucked lightly, not wanting to give Lindir too much simulation so that he couldn’t come.

Even with him in their bed, it was Legolas who controlled the situation and Elrohir had no wish to disobey the rules. They waited patiently until Lindir relaxed a little and his internal muscles stopped squeezing their fingers with such force before starting to move slowly, carefully to stretch the tight entrance more.

Lindir closed his eyes against the sensations. It was incredible. He had four fingers inside him, each moving in a different way and it was driving him crazy.

“Too much…” He moaned brokenly.

“Nay… this is too much.” Legolas promised him and changed the angle of his fingers, finding he little bundle of nerves inside the writhing Elf and massaging it strongly and constantly. Simultaneously, Elrohir took as much of his erection as he could and started sucking in earnest.

Lindir screamed and his body jerked violently when he spent himself into the willing mouth of the dark haired Elf.

But he was never granted a time to actually come down from the peak. Elrohir never stopped caressing him with his tongue, even when he protested, his flesh too sensitive. Nor did Legolas stop ruthlessly massaging his prostate. His shaft never had a chance to soften and it hurt, but god, it hurt so good. He was reduced to moans and incoherent pleadings.

He was trying to escape their touch, but simultaneously spread his legs a little wider so that Legolas could settle himself between them.

Lindir whimpered when Elrohir’s mouth left his aching shaft and withdrew his fingers from his body. He opened his eyes to watch what was going on.

The dark haired Elf stretched himself to reach for the jar of oil and took a generous amount of it into his palm. Lindir watched the well defined muscles and sun kissed, golden skin stretch as they rippled and felt heat pooling down in his groin once again. By the Valar, but the Peredhil were beautiful.

Elrohir crawled back to the two Elves lying on the bed and Lindir watched as he kissed Legolas and his hands went to the swollen shaft of the Mirkwood prince.

The oil gleamed in the faint light of the candles and he swallowed; watching the two beautiful creatures kiss slowly, yet so very passionately.

Finally, Elrohir broke the kiss and scooted back and then up on the bed, lying close to the right side of Lindir. Giving Lindir a gentle smile and a kiss to his jaw, Elrohir reached for his right leg and then nudged it until Lindir obeyed and allowed him to bend the knee and then pull it closer to his chest.

Lindir felt incredibly exposed like that, especially when he saw Legolas watching him so closely, watching his now spread legs and the two fingers buried inside his opening.

“You are beautiful Lirimaer… so very, very sweet…” He murmured slowly, withdrawing his fingers and leaning closer.

Lindir whimpered when he felt the blunt tip of Legolas’s arousal press at his stretched entrance and arched his hips, showing him that he wanted it. Slowly, but unyieldingly, Legolas pressed his whole considerable length into him, causing a whimper to leave his lips when the hard flesh hit his prostate again. Not giving him any time to recover from the first wave of white hot pleasure, he started thrusting, angling his hips so that he hit his pleasure spot each and every time.

Lindir felt incredibly stretched and sensitive, his mind able to concentrate only on the feeling of that hard flesh sliding in and out of him, hitting his prostate over and over again, driving him to completion without a single touch to his elfhood.

He screamed and spilled his hot essence on his stomach, his muscles clenching and milking Legolas’s orgasm from him. Lindir whimpered at the feeling of hot come bathing his insides.

He lay boneless on the bed and didn’t even twitch when Legolas gently withdrew from him and leaned closer for a kiss, caressing his lips with the very tip of his tongue.

The reverie was sneaking up on him, but he was still aware of the warm body at his side and the hard shaft poking him in the hip. He turned to look at Elrohir, flushed and tense with his unfulfilled desire and tried to say with his eyes, what he was afraid to voice.

“Are you sure, Pen-melui?” Asked Elrohir gently and Lindir nodded. As long as he was with them, he couldn’t think of Erestor and this was most important for him. Besides, he did desire Elrohir. He was dark, strong and so alike yet different that other Elves due to his mortal heritage.

Elrohir sat on the bed and Lindir felt strong arms, Legolas, lifting him and pushing so that he knelt over Elrohir.

The dark haired prince closed his lips over his, kissing him more forcefully than Legolas, showing his need in the caress. His hands closed over his lean hips and kept him in place, poised a few inches above the straining erection.

Lindir flushed bright red when he realized why. Slowly, due to his widespread thighs, his seed and the oil Legolas used for lubrication was slipping out of his puckered opening and he closed his eyes when he felt another finger touch his anus and massage the fluids into the now tender, slightly reddened opening.

After what seemed an eternity of waiting and allowing them to look at his body, Lindir felt Elrohir press his hips down and he complied lowering himself on the thick shaft. He couldn’t stop a loud moan that left his lips when he felt the erection breach him, stretch him more than Legolas did, fill him, and press at his pleasure spot. He closed his arms over Elrohir’s neck and held on while lowering himself to take as much of the thick shaft as possible.

Lindir was vaguely aware of the sucking kisses on his neck and nimble hands stroking his own erection, and the hot body of Legolas behind his back offering support. His own orgasm took him by surprise and he screamed, clenching his muscles around that hard invader inside him, arching his spine. When it was over, he was spent and drained. He just rode the more urgent thrusts of the dark haired Elf, letting him do as he pleased, his body so relaxed that it didn’t even hurt when his thrusts became frantic and finally Elrohir tensed and with a choked gasp and came inside him, splashing his channel with more seed.

Lindir knew that the wet slickness of it would remain inside him for most of the next day, but he decided it would be a pleasurable reminder of their night together.

The Scribe lay still while Legolas rearranged them on the bed and rose, only to return with a wet cloth he used to tenderly clean the remnants of their passion.

Lindir was falling asleep when he heard Legolas speak.

“What happened Lindir?”

The pain came crushing back on him, and he closed his eyes to get control over himself.

“Erestor… he… he broke with me… and he said…” And he told them. Told about all those painful, cruel words Erestor said to him. Surprisingly. He felt better after purging the words that had hurt him so.

“Now listen to me Lindir. No matter what Erestor said, he didn’t mean it. He cares for you deeply and it scares him. Elrohir can be a witness.” Said Legolas gently, pulling the exhausted Elf closer to his body. “Do you know why Erestor left?”

Lindir shook his head. He never had the chance to discuss it with Erestor.

“Because he was afraid he hurt you, that he forced you, Lindir. He was terrified of this. His past is very painful and he can’t, doesn’t want to trust again or fall in love. I can’t promise you that everything will be all right, but I swear that all those terrible things he said, he said only to push you away.”

“So what should I do now?” Asked Lindir, the pain in his chest easing slightly.

Legolas sighed pulling him even closer.

“I don’t know Lirimaer. I don’t know…”

TRANSLATIONS: melethron - lover Lirimaer - lovely, or beautiful one Ada- dad Lirimaer – lovely, or beautiful one Saes – please Pen-melui - sweet one, beautiful one

Part 10

Erestor watched Lindir leave Legolas’s chambers and he could feel everything in him freeze. The marks on his neck and the careful way he was walking told him everything he needed to know.

His bruised, swollen lips were a clear testimony of the night he spent with Legolas and probably Elrohir too.

He watched the lithe, pale figure move quietly down the corridor and felt something inside him twist and coil. Something cold and angry. All of his being concentrated on breathing,. In and out. In and out.

A red haze in front of his eyes made it difficult to think, only to feel and hate. God, but he was angry. So much, so deep… Legolas was his friend, he should never take what is his!

His hands flexed at his sides and some part of his mind, the one still rational tried to reason with him, tell him that he was too angry, to out of balance to do anything, but he wouldn’t listen.

Suddenly, he found himself in front of the wide, carved door knocking lightly, carefully. Centuries of training came back to him, and even without thinking, he knew that if he knocked that way, it would be answered because Legolas would probably take him for Lindir. And he wasn’t mistaken.

As soon as he saw the door crack, he pushed with all his weight, forcing them open all the way.

“What…?”

Legolas never had a chance to finish that question. Only his Elven reflex allowed him to avoid the fist that rushed at his face.

Legolas jumped back, barely holding his balance and stared at Erestor’s face. It was pale, drawn and his dark eyes were gleaming with a cold fire that sent shivers down his spine. It didn’t take a genius to realize what the cause of Erestor’s behavior was.

After a brief moment of confusion, Legolas felt his own anger come back. The memory of Lindir's pale, tormented face and body so cold that he was afraid that the young Elf was already dead from grief, the images caused a fire to start in his chest. He was so incredibly angry at Erestor! How could he hurt such an innocent being like Lindir?

However, the physical aggression was something that he would have never guessed. Erestor was always so much in control over his actions, that seeing him so out of it, so enraged that he was willing to attack Legolas was unsettling. Still Legolas, was not going to make it easier on the advisor.

“You don’t have right to any claim on him anymore Erestor, you broke with him!” Answered Legolas, his own anger rising and boiling inside his chest

Erestor hasn’t answered to this, only growled and made a sudden launch for Legolas, using one of his moves to plant a solid blow on Legolas’s side. The other Elf felt his breath leave his body, but still managed to jump away to avoid another blow like it.

“You were supposed to be my friend!” Snarled Erestor, enraged.

Legolas was surprised to see hurt and betrayal in the advisor’s eyes. This caused him to hesitate just a moment too long. It was enough for Erestor to tackle him to the ground. They rolled, trying to hit and avoid blows, rage and hurt warring inside them like their bodies outside.

Legolas knew that he had to get up on his feet, because Erestor was heavier and better trained in hand-to-hand combat than he was, but the advisor was too strong to break his hold. The formal robes had always hid the strong muscles of a trained assassin and, although sometimes lovers, Legolas forgot just how dangerous Erestor could be.

“I trusted you.” Snarled Erestor in a low, dangerous voice and Legolas felt one of his hands tighten around his neck.

When Legolas prepared to twist his hips and try to dislocate Erestor from him, the advisor gasped as he was suddenly pulled from the blonde prince.

Coughing, Legolas looked up to see shirtless Elrohir kneeling on the floor behind enraged Erestor and keeping him in a powerful head lock with his right arm, and the left twisting Erestor’s arms behind him with incredible power. All of Elrohir’s muscles were standing out under the golden skin, and his body was taut with tension, when he struggled to hold Erestor off balance, squeezing his throat hard enough to cause Erestor to wheeze.

“What the hell, going on here?!” Snarled the younger Peredhil with an anger rarely seen from him.

Legolas got up carefully, massaging his throat and keeping a careful eye on Erestor. He saw that the dark eyes of the advisor cleared a little and became more aware. The rage was backing off.

“Let him go Elrohir, I think he is reasonable again.”

After a slight hesitation, Elrohir released the advisor and stood as well, going to his lover and checking his throat. He knew there would be bruises, but otherwise Legolas looked okay.

“Maybe one of you can enlighten me? Why did you two behave like stupid Men, that never heard of something like restraint in their lives! You were fighting for Valar’s sake! The Chief Advisor of Imladris and the Prince of Mirkwood!”

Both Elves had the grace to blush.

Elrohir stopped his tirade when he realized what had enraged Erestor.

“You know.” Elrohir said quietly.

Erestor turned his head so fast that Elrohir was barely aware of his movement, until he had those black, piercing eyes spearing him with a cold, controlled rage that seemed ten times more scary than when he was fighting Legolas.

“Yes.” The word was all but hissed in a low, dangerous tone. The rage that was still just behind the cold stones of Erestor’s eyes now seemed closer to the surface. “I know what you did.” He turned back to Legolas. His figure stiff and full of anger. “How dare you drag him into your dirty games?”

Something flashed in Legolas’s eyes and he was no longer that gentle, delicate golden beauty.

Elrohir was stunned to see that the physical attack had not angered Legolas nor caused him to be aggressive, but a single word about his relationship with Elrohir and the change was outstanding.

In a matter of seconds, Legolas was face to face with Erestor, his eyes narrowed and his body language giving off a heavy warning.

“Don’t you dare Erestor, don’t you ever dare to speak about me and Elrohir in such a way. I have never lied to him about my feelings, nor have I used his love to have a perfect slave!”

“Watch your words Princeling! Lindir is not…”

“No?” Interrupted Legolas, with pure venom in his voice. “Are you sure? He loves you more than anything in his life, would do anything for you and he agrees with EVERYTHING that you want from him! He takes, with quiet dignity, everything you throw at him. Haven’t you seen the hurt in his eyes when you acted towards him as if he was no more than an assistant to you? One you didn’t even like! Have you seen his pain? Have you ever seen his shame? He swallowed his pride, the last shreds of his dignity only for you! For sex, because there was no other love he could get from you! And what did you give him in return?”

Erestor was clearly shocked by Legolas harsh speech; full of fire and accusations. Even Elrohir, who was angry at Erestor for his treatment Lindir, was surprised by the sheer force of anger that was rolling off of Legolas in waves.

“Violence! You hit him, hurt him not only physically but mentally! You betrayed his trust in you and didn’t even have the courage to ask his forgiveness. Instead you run! Like a coward!”

“Don’t you dare…”

“What? Call you a coward? Maybe you are a warrior, maybe you can defeat an enemy, but you are scared shitless of every single emotion!” Snarled Legolas, his blue eyes shining with thousands of emotions, anger leading. “ At the very sign of emotional ties, you curl your tail and run!”

Elrohir noticed how Erestor’s hands clenched and his posture became even more rigid and in that moment he knew that the fight would start once again if he didn’t pacify his lover.

“Legolas!” He called, dragging the attention to him. “I think you should calm down.”

Legolas opened his mouth to slap Elrohir with his words, but reconsidered and took a deep breath instead, keeping it for a while and then letting go slowly, trying to let go of his anger also.

“I think that this conversation has no sense.” Erestor looked at the blond Elf, his friend and sometime lover and barely restrained himself from attacking him. What enraged him more, was the strength of his reaction. Nothing, in the past few hundred years had caused him to attack Legolas. He always thought that their friendship was above it. “If you ever touch Lindir again… I will kill you.”

The words were delivered in a cold, calm voice that left no room for misunderstanding. Erestor was deadly serious.

The cold black eyes, hiding a millennia old pain and art of restraint, met the shocked blue eyes of his ex lover and held the gaze for a long time, both remembering the times they had spent together, the trust and easy understanding they shared.

“We are through.” Erestor delivered the final blow, watching Legolas close his eyes and the pain that flashed on the beautiful face of the Mirkwood prince.”

Legolas felt an iron fist of pain clench above his heart. All this was so… unexpected, although he should have foreseen it.

Erestor was his best, closest friend. One that knew everything about him. One that shared his secrets with him. The first person that had understood his needs and did not try to change him. Just accepted him, as he was.

He loved him. Not like a lover, but like a friend. Someone even closer than family…

Legolas closed his eyes against the pain that cut through him, sharp like a knife.

“Erestor…” He called, when the other Elf was near the door. The Noldo stopped but didn’t look back. “Love is a rare thing… don’t let it pass you by Erestor… don’t push Lindir away.”

The dark haired Elf stiffened his posture a little more and reached for the handle.

“You are wrong Legolas. Love… doesn’t exist.”

With those last words, Erestor left the chamber.

* * *

Erestor was heading towards the barracks. He was so incredibly angry. Fury swirled slowly through his veins, burning his body with its intensity. He couldn’t believe that he lost control like that. That he started a FIGHT with Legolas!

Some part of him knew that the blonde prince had held back. He sparred with Legolas long enough to know that if the Mirkwood prince wanted to fight, for real, there would be blood, because Legolas never parted from his daggers.

Still, the thing that enraged him the most was the fact that he reacted like that at all. It was terrifying to know that Lindir had so much power over him. To force him to fight his friend, probably the closest one. How could he be so stupid? So careless to let that scribe get so deep under his skin? How stupid of him!

The energy from his anger, the pure rage that still hadn’t left his veins needed a way to get out.

He stopped when he saw Glorfindel practicing with his sword in the middle of a training chamber.

Perfect.

He and Glorfindel, maybe weren’t the closest friends, but colleagues at worst. They enjoyed the verbal spars and teasing that followed each argument. He found the Golden Lord wise and witty enough to provide entertainment and they sparred. Glorfindel was one of the few people aware of Erestor’s earlier… occupation. Not that Erestor told him that, but Glorfindel wasn’t stupid. He was a warrior most of his life and he KNEW an assassin when he fought one.

The Balrog Slayer stopped his training when he saw the expression on Erestor’s face.

“Has something happened Erestor?”

Realizing that his features were betraying too much, Erestor carefully schooled them into an emotionless mask.

“Will you spar with me, Glorfindel?”

The words were even and carefully spoken, like Erestor always did, but something in his eyes sent shivers down Glorfindel’s back. Something was not right. He considered turning the offer down, but he had the feeling that Erestor really needed it. So he only nodded, putting his sword aside and backing off, giving the other Elf space.

He watched as Erestor got rid of his outer clothes. When he was only in his black, tightly fitting black leggings he stepped on the mat and bowed to the Golden Lord.

Glorfindel barely managed to avoid the first, sneaking strike. Erestor moved quickly, circling Glorfindel, and swaying slowly to the ancient rhythm that only he heard. His attacks were fast, sneaky and incredibly dangerous.

They were fighting without weapons, only bare hands, but each hit that Glorfindel managed to avoid was bound to cause considerable damage if it reached its mark.

Erestor was furious. Glorfindel had never seen him fight with such abandon. His body sleek and incredibly fast was like a well oiled weapon – deadly in its efficiency.

The Golden Lord was much heavier than Erestor and had to change his tactics accordingly, especially since he had no chance at being as fast as Erestor.

They traded blows and countered with equal efficiency. After only few minutes, Glorfinder realized that the Noldo was not going to hold back and he stopped also. At first it was strange to let go in a fight with somebody that wasn’t a foe, but after one particularly painful blow to his stomach, Glorfindel tossed the restraint to the wind and they started fighting for real.

Erestor grunted when a powerful kick threw him on the nearby wall, but loosing no time he rolled on the floor and away from the fist that missed his face by mere inches.

The pain emanating from his side where the foot had connected with his body, helped to concentrate on the battle. His body was like a well oiled machine, going through motions almost without conscious thought and his mind kept straying.

He was in pain.

Not physical, because it wasn’t something that would bother him, not for long anyway, but emotional. He realized that loosing Lindir was not an option. He… didn’t want the scribe to disappear from his life.

But every time when he recalled Lindir's face when he left Legolas’s chambers the blood inside him boiled with rage. Jealousy. He couldn’t forget the still swollen lips, the red passion marks on both sides of his neck and the way he reeked of sex. The mere knowledge that both Legolas and Elrohir had him, possessed him, made him want to kill, to draw blood.

He was brought rapidly to reality when he felt his back hit the floor with enough force to knock the wind out of his lungs and then the heavy mass of Glorfindel on his stomach, straddling him, keeping his arms pinned to the floor by his knees.

They were both sweaty and flushed, panting heavily with the strain of the fight that was harder that anyone could’ve expected. Here and there, there were traces of blood from small wounds they inflicted during the fight.

“In all the millennia I’ve known you, Erestor…” Panted Glorfindel, trying to calm his breathing. “I have never seen you so distracted, or this angry.”

The Golden Lord got up, letting go of Erestor, considering the fight won and turned to his clothes.

“Whoever he or she is, I suggest you go and apologize for whatever you did.”

“Glorfindel,” Warned Erestor, collecting his own clothes. “ It is not your business.”

The Balrog Slayer stopped on his way to the door and looked at Erestor with strangely sad eyes.

“Many, many millennia ago I had my chance, but I wasted it. You should - think about it Erestor, because you can meet you match, someone to be with till the end, only once in a lifetime.”

The sadness and quiet knowledge in the Glorfindel’s voice and eyes forced Erestor to pause.

True, he often teased and joked with the warrior, but his stay at the Halls of Waiting, touched him with knowledge that he rarely shared. But when he did, he usually had a good reason to do it.

* * *

Somehow Lindir knew that Erestor would come. So now, looking at the handsome, dark haired Advisor standing in the doorway to his rooms, he wasn’t shocked. Strangely enough, his near death experience and that strange but intense night with Legolas and Elrohir left him unnervingly numb. But he was grateful for this, because he was actually able to look into Erestor’s eyes and not break down.

Still in this strange state, Lindir stepped back to allow Erestor entrance. With longing he watched the calm, controlled movements of the Advisor who entered as if it were his own study.

“What do you want Erestor?” The voice was quiet, tired and so… sad.

“If you want, we can still be lovers.”

Erestor expected some kind of reaction, anything from Lindir. What he got, surprised and saddened him. Lindir just stood there, in front of him and looked at him with those pale, hurting eyes. He said nothing just looked, as if he could see what no one else could.

“But?” He asked calmly. “Because there is a but, isn’t there Erestor?” There was bitterness to his voice that shocked Erestor to the core. He had never heard such a tone from Lindir before.

“You have to listen to me. I will tell you things that others can only guess about my past.”

“What for?”

It was strange to stand in front of the pale Elf and try to convince him. Erestor’s mask was perfect and unbreakable. No emotion showed on the outside, no sign of his confusion. However, what surprised him was Lindir’s lack of emotion. The young scribe seemed so incredibly far away from Erestor. And to make matters worse, he could still see the passion marks left by Legolas and Elrohir the previous night.

“So that you can understand why I acted like I did.” Erestor explained.

Lindir didn’t answer, he just sat in the chair and looked at him steadily, waiting and watching.

Erestor looked out of the window, his back to Lindir and started talking. He spoke of the Guild, the training to become and assassin, his first kill – a boy not older than himself, way before majority. He spoke of the kin-slaying, of the wars and the danger. The hurt and anger all of them had inside. Then he told Lindir about Imene.

Imene, so beautiful, erotic and loving. A foreign female that took his heart away. A warrior like him, but with a generous soul. She gave him peace of heart, love. She gave him something to change his life for. He left the Guild for her, shamed himself and his family, but it didn’t matter. All he wanted, all he needed was her. They bonded. Settled in a small town near the sea and tried to lead simple, normal lives without the blood on their hands.

He told Lindir about the little, new life that had grown in her. How he adored the child long before it was born, how he would lie with his face to her belly, trying to listen to their child.

And then he told how Imene called her kin and took the child away from him. How she humiliated him, tore out everything that was inside him and kicked it into the dirt. How she told him that she cheated the bond, that it was only him bonded to her, not the other way around. How she threatened him that he should not to search for the child. But he wouldn’t listen. He never did.

So he went in search of the child. He found it, a little girl even more beautiful than her mother, with large violet eyes that saw everything. Half Elf, half Fire Keeper.

But Imene was just as cruel as she promised and did the worst thing Erestor could imagine. She taught the child to hate him, to despise him. It happened many centuries ago, but he never again opened his heart to anybody.

Lindir just sat there, shocked into silence by the sheer cruelty of Erestor’s fate. He wanted to get up, put his arms around the older Elf and soothe his pain, but he knew it was foolish. Erestor didn’t need him, wouldn’t let him help. He knew that the Advisor left out a lot. His description was emotionless, dry, like a report from an uninvolved observer. He knew Erestor should deal with the past properly, something he obviously hadn’t done so far. But it wasn’t something to discuss today. It was time to discuss the thing between them, not the ghosts from the past.

“Now you see why I never wanted to be involved in a relationship. I never lied to you Lindir, I warned you that there would be no love on my side.”

He turned to look at the pale Elf still sitting in the wide, leather chair. His white hair was worn loose and falling over a face with eyes still puffy from tears. The scribe was uncharacteristically quiet. And it was strangely unnerving to Erestor, because he was used to the hyper-active, bouncy young Elf with a genuine smile on his face. Not this calm, controlled and… lost figure in front of him. Suddenly, Lindir seemed older than he.

“I never said you didn’t warn me Erestor… but still, you broke your word.” The words were gentle, but firm. Lindir was in pain, it was so great that he couldn’t even look at Erestor, but he wasn’t some kind of push-over that could be treated as such. He was a grown, adult Elf, had a position in the Last Homely House. He had dignity, even if just now, it was in shreds.

Erestor closed his eyes when the memories of the night after fest came back to him full force. He felt cold shame and anger at himself. Anger for using his considerable strength and skill to intimidate and hurt his young lover. Anger for coming too close, for caring too much, for letting his emotions rule him.

“I know. And I am truly sorry for the way I treated you that night.”

Lindir looked up for the very first time since the beginning of the conversation.

“You don’t understand Erestor. I was angry and confused, a little scared at the way you treated me that night but it wasn’t anything we couldn’t just talk about. No.” His voice changed, becoming deeper, stronger. “You promised to respect me. It was the only promise I wanted and the only promise you gave me. But yesterday morning, when you told me I was no match for you, that I was just a toy for you… you humiliated me. You tore my heart out and threw it to the ground, spitting on my devotion to you and love. You humiliated me. No physical blow, no torture could compare to cruelty of your words Erestor.”

Erestor was surprised at Lindir's words, though he shouldn’t have been. Somehow, he always thought that his violence towards Lindir was his worst sin.

“I…” Erestor hesitated for a moment, though it was unusual for him. “I had to do that.”

“No Erestor. You CHOSE to do that.”

“I had my reasons.”

“I know.” Whispered Lindir. “Legolas told me why, explained why you did that.”

Lindir watched his lover’s fists clench at the mention of the fair prince and what they did together. Lindir knew that he could soothe Erestor’s anger if he admitted that he was dying and it had been Legolas’s only way to save him, but it would show the Advisor just how much of a power he had over him.

“What did he tell you?”

“That you didn’t mean what you said; that you only wished to push me away.”

Erestor took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting his tension leave his body along with the air.

“He was right.”

There was silence between them. Heavy with unanswered questions and unheard answers.

“So now, after you broke my heart and humiliated me, you offer me what? A relationship, a commitment? ”

His pale blue eyes, now smoky and heavy with emotions that were buried so deep inside that his face showed nothing. Erestor found himself hating that stoic, emotionless face. So much like his own…

“No.” Lindir continued. Sarcasm that never before touched the young Elf’s face now hit full force. “What you offer me is less than that. I should share my body with you, give you what you want… But the relationship, or whatever this thing between us is called, must remain hidden. You are The Chief Advisor… it is below you to admit to having an affair with a lowly scribe. I am not allowed to express my feelings, towards you. I can not even hope for any kind of commitment from you Erestor. And no, this I will not hold against you, because you did warn me.”

Lindir stopped for a moment letting his words sink in and took a deep breath, gathering courage to say what he needed to say.

“Despite what you may think, I do have dignity, a sense of self worth. This thing you offer me… it’s not enough. I love you Erestor and sharing my body, my life with you, when you remind me at every single opportunity that I mean to you nothing more than a simple whore would… it hurts. It hurts too much. Each time I loose something Erestor, each night I loose a bit of my dignity, a part of my soul.”

Erestor was still looking outside, facing the window, his back was stiff, shoulders set with tension, iron self control. But he was in turmoil. He was shocked at the coldness that took residence in his heart at hearing Lindir's words. Coming here, he never imagined that Lindir could say “no” to his offer. He always took him for granted. Suddenly, the thought that Lindir may choose to stay away from him; refuse his offer, caused his stomach to clench painfully.

“So you decline.” He answered, surprised that his voice was cold and even as always.

“No Erestor. I do not wish to leave you. I merely want to change the rules.” There was a long, heavy silence between them, when both Elves weighed their options.

Lindir was terrified that he pushed too hard, wanted too much, but then he heard Erestor speak again.

“I am listening.”

“I want to be able to have hope. I want you to give me more of yourself.”

“What? Love?” Interrupted Erestor bitterly. He didn’t want to loose Lindir, but that he simply couldn’t give him what he asked. He would not love again. Never. “You want to hear those words? Even if they are not true?”

“No. I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want. I just want more than I had. And I had nothing.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Friendship, trust… something to let me know that you care. That I am more than just a willing, warm, faceless body without an identity.”

Erestor cringed internally. He was shocked by Lindir's words. He never realized that he made Lindir feel like that.

“Is this all?” He didn’t want to sound like that, so cold and so harsh, but it came out in that manner anyway. Millennia’s of practice…

He could hear Lindir's soft, sad sigh.

“Just one more thing. That you wouldn’t be ashamed of me. I don’t want anything drastic. Just that we would be partners, an equal side of this relationship.” He fell silent for a minute. “It is not much, just… I want more. Let me know what you decide.”

Erestor turned to him and looked at the white haired Elf. He knew he should be angry, furious even at Lindir for trying to manipulate him, but surprisingly he wasn’t. Still, he could not show Lindir just how much of an effect the younger Elf had on him.

Carefully, keeping his stoic posture, he nodded curtly to him and left the room as if it hadn’t been anything more than a casual conversation. He never saw the raw fear in Lindir's face, as he stared at his retreating back.

* * *

Elrohir was torn. From the one side, he was sorry for Legolas that he had lost a close friend. On the other hand though, he knew that Erestor was his lover and seeing Legolas in such turmoil after Erestor left made him uneasy.

He knew that jealousy was a terrible and ugly feeling, but he couldn’t stop himself from wondering just how deep Legolas’s feelings for the other Elf went.

Unwilling to show his dilemma in the face of Legolas’s obvious pain, he approached the Mirkwood prince slowly and slid to the floor beside him.

He spent a moment watching his lover. Legolas sat on the floor, his back to the wall and his knees pulled high to his chest. He was resting his forehead on them and his arms encircled his legs loosely. There was pain and sadness in his body that was clearly visible. Elrohir could almost taste the regret coming off of Legolas in thick waves and felt like a total bastard for being jealous when his lover was in such pain.

“Legolas…” He whispered softly, one hand coming to the nape of the blonde Elf’s neck and stroking the warm, smooth skin under the fall of golden hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much Erestor meant to you.”

He tried to sound soothing, to reassure his lover, but didn’t quite manage to keep the uncertainty from his voice.

Legolas raised his head and eyes as blue as the midnight sky found the stormy ones.

Elrohir swallowed nervously when those eyes regarded him with their uncanny intensity for long, long moments. Although they were of a similar age, Legolas seemed somehow more experienced, more mature than he himself. He looked at Elrohir as if he could see his soul.

“I have already told you melethron, I love Erestor, he is… was my best, closest friend. Somebody that knew everything about me. But I am not in love with him. You don’t need to worry about it. I love you. You are the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me.”

Elrohir swallowed and smiled warmly at his lover. It was strange how a person could make a difference. He certainly had enough experience with bedding Elves, he had many. He was good looking and he was a prince. That alone gave him many, many occasions to bed whom he chose. Now however, with this incredible, blonde Elf, he felt something that made him both happy and terrified. The feeling that grew in his soul, that flooded him each time he was close to Legolas was scary in its intensity. Sometimes when Legolas touched him, it was as if it was his first time.

“I…” Started Elrohir hesitantly. “I noticed that you got angry only when Erestor mentioned our relationship. Why? You know that I love you, and I know that you love me. Why get so angry?”

Legolas closed his eyes for a moment. Oh, how little did you know Elrohir! Guilt and fear welled in his chest. The 0plan that started it all came back to him. The plan to get Elrohir with his brother…

Without a word, Legolas pulled the twin to him and kissed him slowly and sensually, thinking about the changes. He never suspected he would fall in love with the Peredhil, that he would be afraid of his own plans. But as much as he wanted Elrohir all for himself, he couldn’t deny the feelings he saw in the twins’ eyes when they looked at each other, thinking that the other wouldn’t notice.

There was hunger, pain… and love in that stare. Feeling so incredibly deep and so difficult.

Even if Elrohir stayed with Legolas, and even if they bonded, someday he was bound to realize his feelings, and then all three of them would suffer. No, if he loved the half-Elf he had to bring his plan to an end.

When he felt Elrohir’s lips were swollen and tender from their kiss, he broke it.

“I love you.” He whispered against the swollen, moist lips with an urgency that caught Elrohir’s attention. “I love you so much. Everything I do, I do it for you.”

“I know.” Answered the Peredhil, surprised by the urgency of Legolas’s voice.

“Do you?” Asked Legolas, staring in his lover’s eyes with strange need. “Do you trust me?”

“Aye.”

“If I did something… if ever something happened, would you believe my word? Would you?”

Elrohir frowned, sensing some painful, hidden feelings in his lover, and hastened to reassure him. “Aye. I would always listen to you, and believe you. Always.”

“Promise me.” Demanded Legolas, still not breaking their locked gazes.

“I promise.”

Legolas stared into the stormy eyes of his lover for a long time, searching for something, making sure, wanting to believe…

“Just remember the promise… just remember.”

“Legolas… what is this all about? Is something wrong? Something troubles you?”

Legolas closed his eyes, hiding the emotions from Elrohir and shook his head in denial.

“When I woke up this morning, you weren’t there, why?” Asked Legolas, obviously changing the subject, but Elrohir refused to push Legolas further.

“I got a message. There was a change of plans and I must leave on a patrol tomorrow evening.”

Legolas avoided his eyes, not wanting to show Elrohir his panic at being separated from his new lover so soon.

“How long?”

Elrohir licked his lips, equally unhappy about it.

“Three weeks.” The Peredhil was also unsure. Legolas was his first serious lover, first that moved something very deep inside him. And somewhere deep inside, he was afraid that he would not wait for him.

“I will miss you then.”

Elrohir looked at the beautiful golden prince.

“You will wait then?”

“Of course I will wait!” Legolas smiled at him. “Will Elladan be on the patrol also?” Asked Legolas casually.

“Aye. We always ride on patrols together.”

Legolas watched the dark haired Peredhil flush suddenly and look on the ground.

Sensing the change of mood, Legolas stood up, still not sure what Elrohir was so ashamed of asking.

He leaned on the wall and waited.

Elrohir licked his lips and swallowed loudly and then shook his head, letting the long, silky, dark hair fall on his face partially hiding his face and then started slowly approaching Legolas, moving on his hand sand knees and letting his spine arch just like that…

Legolas felt his breath hitch at the blatantly sexual display before him.

The dark haired Elf finally reached him and sat on his heels, looking up at Legolas through a veil of mussed, dark hair.

“I will be so long away from you… will you take me Legolas? Will you mark me as yours? Will you leave marks that will remind me of you for days to come? Will you possess me…harder than ever before?”

Legolas couldn’t hide his arousal even if he tried. The words, the tome and over all the burning, gray eyes undid him.

“Yessss.” He all but hissed the going to the door and bolting them. No one would interrupt them.

TBC in chapter 11

TRANSLATIONS:
melethron - lover