by Grey Pigeon

DISCLAIMER: None of Tolkien's creations are my own, I just play in his sandpit. No money made, purely for fun.

PAIRING: Legolas/Elrond


GENRE: Hurt/Comfort, Romance

WARNINGS: SLASH. Drug use, healing themes. Implied, light BDSM. Generally it's a collection of moments considered endlessly cliché and essential in a good PWP. And it is to be read as such.

SUMMARY: The morning after "The Lord's treatment". After the night of cleansing and love with the two Imladris' Lords, Legolas wakes up.

FEEDBACK: Yes, yes, yes!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I felt up to create a series of one-shots. Here goes the second story of "The Lord's…" stories. I advice you to read the previous one first on Mirrormere (the link on my profile page) although this is understandable enough a plot and so I'll leave this to your judgment. Enjoy!^^

The sea of quietude.

That was where he was floating these mere moments before realizing that he is waking up. Slowly he was being pulled towards consciousness again, away from his warm shelter of the deep healing sleep he had fled to and seemingly inhabited for a bit too short. His head was heavy.

And not only that, he came to know. He was sore. That exact feeling of soreness must have finally ripped him out of his reverie, because with every passing minute it was becoming more and more noticeable. His back and nape throbbed unpleasantly, probably due to lying in one position for too long. Fire awoke in his arms when he tried to move them and the sharp memory of yesterday night came back to him, what definitely detached him from his pleasant haze and made him open his eyes in a small shock.

Filled with sunlight and air, there was Elrond's bright bedroom.

He squinted his eyes at this, gripping the fine covers with his fingers. They smelled of starch and freshness; he had been covered and nestled with utmost care, and the whole bed seemed so large, safe and welcoming that the perspective of facing a new day was the last thing Legolas wanted. Yet the light called to him intently to start moving.

"No," he muttered in protest, grimacing and trying to roll on the side. He realized the bed is empty. A fleeting question of what time is it crossed his mind, but evaporated quickly. "No." He repeated to himself.

"Why 'no'?" a kind voice asked on the left.

Elrond. Must have been.

Legolas muttered something that made no sense whatsoever without even opening his eyes. He knew he had to get up, but Valar, it was so hard to force his body into compliance.

A warm finger rubbed his bottom lip. "Open up," Legolas heard and mindlessly did so; Elrond lifted his head and put a mug with sweetish, cloying liquid to his mouth. Before Legolas had a chance to ask what is it, he was told to swallow and a strange, sticky warmth spread through his mouth and throat as he obeyed.

"Yes… more, Legolas, more," Elrond instructed, still holding the mug up. "Drink this, this is good for you now… I brought you some breakfast, but this should be drank before eating."

"What is it?" Legolas asked, once the mug was finally empty. He didn't like the unfamiliar taste and fresh toasts with cheese and butter immediately caught his attention.

"Something to help your muscles relax," Elrond said, pouring some tea into two cups and handing one to the younger Elf. "Eat. We have toasts and some smoked turkey, hard cheese, eggs and thick cream with raspberries and nuts," he pointed, moving the tray closer to Legolas. The Elf rose on his elbow to have a better access; he was hungry. Soon the bread disappeared and so did the cream.

Elrond was observing him eat, yawn and shake his head, slowly sipping at his steaming tea. When Legolas finished and thanked for the kindness of his Trustworthy, the Lord put the cup down and took the tray away to the outer chamber. When he returned, he resumed his position and reached to flip Legolas on his stomach casually, to be able to assess the state of his backside.

Legolas made a face; it was as unexpected as unpleasant to be handled so, suddenly bared to the view of another and subjected to kneading and probing. But when he was just about turning back and asking Elrond to stop, he found it an unbelievably difficult task: his body was simply too heavy and stopped listening to him. His limbs felt alien, as if weighted down with something. He frowned in confusion; was it a bad reaction to the medicament he had been given?

"E-eeel…rond…" he started only to realize it's getting difficult to speak.

"Is it working?" Elrond smiled. "Good. Allow it, Legolas, it is supposed to be like this."

When his elfling made absolutely no attempt to relax nor calm down, Elrond sighed patiently and stopping his palpation flipped him on his back again.

"Easy, child. The drug works this way; it slacks the muscles to the point of immobility. Don't worry, your breathing won't be hampered, neither your heartbeat. Calm down; you are not feeling any pain now, are you?" he asked.

Legolas didn't. His backside still felt slightly uncomfortable, but the throbbing in his arms that had been getting so unnerving dissolved completely. He glanced at his Lord and kept staring for a little while; Elrond took it as a good sign.

"See?..." he smiled, stroking his cheek tenderly. "What were you thinking, little leaf? It was not a secret night you have to hide from everybody. You don't have to get up and pretend cheerfulness throughout a whole day at court. I put you through a lot of effort last night, so it's only natural that you need to rest on the following day. You should stay abed; at least until the drug wears off. And a proper bath is in order," Elrond smiled mischievously.

Only now Legolas really understood what was going on and sweet relief washed over him. Suddenly the hands that were checking him over did not seem to be so bad at all.

Not able to move, he just slumped to the mattress and lazily followed Elrond's hands with his eyes. The Lord checked the patches of skin that might have been affected by the candle flame the night before, but noted that there were no burns or swellings. He played for a while with Legolas' nipples, just to be indulgent, but returned to his examination exactly when the Elf started to feel some pleasure. He lifted each of Legolas' arms and palpated the joints, being careful not to put too much pressure there. He glanced at the skin of his knees, but seeing it was alright he just patted them fondly.

"Now, I think you are awake enough for a little wash up."

He picked the unresisting body up into his arms; Legolas made a small sound of protest somewhere at the back of his throat. His Trustworthy smirked.

"I know. You may go back to sleep later. You will feel better after I have cleaned you and applied a new dose of the salve, trust me."

Legolas knew. He let his head support itself on Elrond's shoulder and sighed.

The tube willed with athelas-scented water was already waiting in Elrond's private bathroom. The marble pond looked inviting and the steamy water was really welcoming; maybe just a tiny bit too hot, it cradled his body and erased all the thoughts away. Legolas wished he could say something, but his mouth did not really listen when he tried, and so he was reduced to monosyllabic sounds and glances. Elrond didn't seem to mind.

The Lord made sure Legolas is sitting upwards and not going to fall, then shrugged off his outer robe and leggings and stepped into the pool. Reaching out for his new Entrusted, he marveled at the pliant, limp body he could properly hug and hold now.

His Elf's behaviour this morning worried Elrond a bit; it was like lack of trust, in a way. It was true that Legolas knew nothing better up to this point, but Elrond would want him to know that his body had its limits too, and more important, he deserved to be handled properly and with care. He must have felt sore and miserable, yet he was prepared for getting up and attending to whatever duty his Lord would appoint him: behaviour as noble as unnecessary. Yesterday he showed a lot of strength of spirit. He deserved a reward, but he seemed oblivious to that, or rather unaware of it. Elrond sighed, stroking the lean back in a steady, comforting pattern; there were so many neglected areas in Thranduil's son that Elrond wondered form where to start. He knew though that first of all his Entrusted patient needed some healthy, natural affection.

And he was about to do just that.

He breathed in his scent deeply; a mixture of sleep, sweat, sex, herbal salve and Legolas. The Elf mewled quietly, aware of the need to wash this all away, but Elrond shushed him gently.

"Never be ashamed, Legolas. This is you. And I am partly to blame as well."

Legolas smiled weakly, giving him a hazed look. Elrond held him up to his chest and claimed his mouth unhurriedly in a reward for his obedience.

Washing him up with the floral soap was as pleasant to watch as it was to do. Elrond took his time, smoothly moving his lathered hands up and down his arms, slender neck, muscled torso, straight back and long legs. He cleaned his face gently, being careful not to let the soap get into his eyes. He rubbed the skin of his scalp when he had the Elf seated in front of him, and washed his silky hair two times, seeing how obviously Legolas enjoys that. Reclining him and supporting him by his wide chest, Elrond spread his Elf's legs and delicately washed his groin, then massaged the slightly bruised buttocks. He met no resistance, only acceptation.

That was good.

Legolas wished he could do the same to his Lord; take the soap and a sponge and worship every inch of his body with his hands and mouth. He would be thorough and precise, and attentive. He would serve Elrond best. But obviously his Trustworthy wanted things differently; he was giving him so much interest and kindness that for a while Legolas was likely to believe that he is still sleeping and having a very good dream.

However, cold attacked his wet skin when he was being lifted from the water. It all had to be reality if he could feel cold. But what a nice reality it was, to be immediately wrapped in a huge towel made of the softest cotton and rubbed dry from head to toe.

The bed stood awaiting.

"Now, little leaf, let me see to that red bottom," Elrond murmured fondly, gathering his wet hair on his nape and wrapping the hems of his loose bathrobe around himself. "It should be well by tomorrow morning. I will apply the salve twice more today just to be sure."

He took a green glass flask and a jar of herbal ointment. Firstly wiping the flesh with a piece of gauze wetted with the strange concoction, then smearing the salve all over the slightly inflamed surface, Elrond proceeded to massage the whole of Legolas' lower back area. A soft, contented sigh was muffled by the pillow, but Elrond heard it and it pleased him greatly.

"Glorfindel made the finest work," Elrond murmured seductively, brushing a finger against the slightly swollen, wide welts. "Even if the salve takes away the instant pain, you are still very tender here, are you not?"

Legolas mewled something overally affirming.

"I know you are." Elrond smirked, moving to lie on top of his Elf. He breathed into his ear and left a trail of wet kisses along his neck. "Now if I take you, you will feel it; feel the mastery his hands brought over you last night. And you will submit; you would even if you were free to move. Isn't that so, my little leaf?"

Elrond rose onto one elbow and turned Legolas to him to plunder his mouth with fervor. He had been slowly growing hard and needy even during the bath, when this sweet body was pressed to his own. Legolas was totally accessible and completely dependant: if not for Elrond's careful hands, the Elf could drown. It was a task as serious as it was amazing, to have someone so trusting nestled in his arms.

One could argue about the degree of trust that was there; after all Elrond took him by surprise and told to drink the medicine without really telling him what it was. But there was no rebellion in Legolas' eyes, no fear. He accepted the circumstances willingly and was ready to take pleasure from it.

Elrond slid systematically down Legolas' back, leaving tiny kisses everywhere. His hands wandered over the shoulder blades, which he gently massaged and pressed down to the mattress. He ventured to tickle one of the armpits just a little bit, eliciting a startled gasp and a beautiful sound that was half-giggled, half-mewled. He kneaded his sides, squeezing the ripe flesh under his fingers, stroked his slim hips and the small of his back lovingly. He could not get enough.

"I know a way to get the healing salve into your passage as well, little leaf," Elrond smirked and reached for a jar with the ointment with slightly trembling fingers. "A way that you will probably enjoy a lot."

Legolas shuddered involuntarily even despite the drug, feeling two oiled fingers delicately circle his entrance. Ever a healer, Elrond took his time preparing his lover, firstly spreading a rich amount of the salve in his insides, then slowly stretching the unresisting ring of muscle. Legolas' breaths came in more frequently and louder than before; he had his mouth half-opened now and strained gasps were escaping him one by one. His Lord added a third, then a fourth finger, and when he was sure that he wouldn't cause any pain, accidental or not, he spread some more salve over himself and pushed inside in one forceful, fluid thrust, until he was sheathed completely and hovering above his younger companion.

It was something Legolas must have never experienced before, judging from the look on his face. Immobilized by a mere gulp of a harmless potion, lying flat on his stomach and unable to reciprocate, he was reduced to feeling without any other distraction. He could do nothing except focusing at the wide palms that grabbed his hips like a vice, with pure strength prevailing, but with no malicious underlining. It was alike being tied up, but in the same time it was totally different. Elrond knew Legolas was thrown into a small shock. And he loved to watch his eyes that reflected every emotion like crystal clear water or a precious mirror.

Yet soon the desire won and Imladris Lord allowed it, delivering slow, deep thrusts that gained on speed and force only to slow down again moments later and get frantic once more. It was like stealing – like blaspheming – to do this to someone so fair and so harmless, but it was only adding to the thrill of it, and the agreeing, obedient look on Legolas face was worth every price. He looked so beautiful: so young, so fresh, so innocent and still unaware of the ways he could be claimed in, so pure, even if they were in the middle of an act. His breath came in violent gasps and it created a strange, surreal music to Elrond's ears.

The Lord could really worship his lover's devotion, but when he saw him closing his eyes and mouth as if to shut the outside world off, he hesitated. He was pleased with obedient, but he wasn't aiming for enduring at any point. And Legolas wasn't making any demands or protests; while Elrond was growing more and more impatient, his Elf appeared content and happy to fulfill Elrond's pleasure, not caring about his own climax. Elrond knew the state Legolas was in, the feeling of being almost owned; but it the Elf thought he can't get any more Elrond's than he was in this moment, he was wrong.

He withdrew and took his time to calm himself; Legolas opened his eyes, startled, and glanced at him questioningly.

"I will have you differently, my compliant one," Elrond murmured and a caress followed. He thought he notes some confusion in the blue eyes.

Elrond fisted Legolas' length and gently squeezed once, observing with fascination the mute, mounting pleasure in his partner. It was as if a cloud came to darken him, hint with a bit of fear and then overwhelm with longing. The Lord started working Legolas' elfhood in regular, forceful strokes, causing him to moan inarticulately at the sensation. Twice Legolas was so close to release that he thought it's going to come any second, and twice Elrond denied him; frustrated and breathless he tried hard to say something, anything, but his muscles wouldn't listen. Finally Elrond had him where he wanted. Not bothering with preparation this time, he inserted two fingers to his passage and rubbed his prostate in time with stroking his erection, what doubled effort brought Legolas straight over the edge.

It was a mixture of shock and pleasure as his body, still under the force of the drug, reacted differently than usual. The orgasm came with no thrashing nor muscle clenching, but as a powerful wave of tingling from the tips of his toes almost to his sensitive ears, the wave that overpowered him and threatened to block his breathing.

When it was over, Legolas realized that his mouth was open and he was giving out a long sound of complete abandon. He choked on it, trying to get himself under control, what made concerned Elrond lean in closer and delicately cradle him in a protective embrace to help him come to his senses. For a while Legolas felt like suffocating: so lost and so helpless, praying for Elrond not to move, not to break this touch ever, to keep him warm and protected at all times. Slowly the tension subsided, leaving his body in two thin rivulets of single tears.

Elrond smiled at them. He caught one on his finger and wiped it away, leaving a tiny smudge of moisture on his cheek. Gathering him close to his chest, he arranged Legolas on his side and spooned up behind him.

Legolas was thankful for the tight embrace and welcomed the sensation, even when he felt Elrond's unspent elfhood press hotly to his thigh. He realized his Lord had not come and would want to claim him once again. He had grown painfully hard watching. For a small moment Legolas felt a sting of uneasiness, as he was so relaxed and so exhausted, so vulnerable, that a further stimulation seemed like almost too much; and yet, he could no nothing.

A barely restrained, strong thrust moved whole his body forwards and the sweet hurting spread through whole of Legolas' nether regions. He would have jumped up and wailed if he only could. Elrond breathed into his ear as if wanting to say something, but incapable to piece up a clear message. It was obvious, though.

You are mine.

He pressed his mouth to Legolas' neck, sucking at a small patch of skin on the side, most certainly leaving a mark. He just moved, losing the track of time or any rhythm, until he felt reaching his peak and shuddered with a wave of release that sent his essence deep into his lover's body.

They lay together, pressed tightly and desperately, still joined and afraid to let go. Sweat, trembling and sped-up breaths were slowly giving way, but even when they calmed, breaking up the spell connecting them by any movement seemed such an unwanted perspective.

You are mine too.

Legolas was trembling just so slightly, accommodating part of Elrond's weight and his girth inside without complaint. He had his eyes and mouth half-open and kept staring into one point in the distance.

Soon Elrond recovered and sighed contently, moving his hand onto Legolas' stomach, where it rested: a warm weight drawing wavy trails on the heated skin. The Lord noted that Legolas' shaft did not fill again, so he suspected his elfling was either too exhausted or too sore. Feeling a bit guilty for stealing his patient's rest, he reluctantly withdrew - tenderly not to upset him - and shushed the tiny sounds of discomfort by clamping Legolas' mouth with his own.

He felt him respond weakly.

"You have a resilient, strong body," he murmured, pleased. "Next time I will want to give you a bigger dose."

He rose into a sitting position and wiped himself and his lover with a wet cloth that was waiting in a small washbasin on the nightstand. This task achieved, he shrugged on an outer robe, nestled his Entrusted on his back again, shaped up the pillows under his head and covered him with silky duvets.

"Do you feel up to sleeping some more now?" he asked kindly.

"Mhm…" Legolas mumbled, wishing Elrond wouldn't leave him, though. His fingers moved slightly, but he could not reach for his Lord.

"Try to do so. When you wake up, you will be able to move again, and then I suggest a walk. This will definitely banish the stiffness. And the soreness in the muscles will recede."

"No eve'where…" Legolas muttered again, opening one eye. Elrond smirked.

"Yes, everywhere. Remember the herbal salve?" he smiled and planted an affectionate kiss on Legolas' forehead.

A soft knocking sounded and the door opened without waiting for permission to interrupt their moment. Glorfindel slid into the room and noticing the two in the bedchamber, came straight to them. He smiled, feeling the heavy scent of herbs in the air; Apparently the smell of the salve was well-known to him.

He stretched out next to Legolas and his hand wandered smoothly beneath the covers to dive between Legolas' legs shamelessly.

"Glorfindel, be really gentle," Elrond warned.

"I didn't plan anything else," his Seneschal replied, taking the tip of Legolas' ear into his mouth. "Elrond, I advise you to get ready soon. The council begins in an hour, the royals are slowly filling the hall," he said and smiled as Elrond sighed heavily. "Also, I received a desperate petition of audience."


"No. His." Glorfindel pointed Legolas. "Aranwion would want to see him, he claims it's very important and asks not to stay in the way of saving their relationship."

Elrond didn't say anything, only regarded Glorfindel with his knowing, intelligent eyes. Then he shifted his sight to Legolas.

It was obvious that the young Elf does not know what to do. He knew that he shouldn't give Aranwion a next chance and by doing so he would act foolishly and probably disrespectfully to his new Trustworthy. But still, it hurt so much: not to see him again, to forget about all the good times as if they were inexistent, not to listen to him for the last time. It seemed so cruel.

Legolas closed his eyes and remained motionless, trying to escape into indifference and avoid making the decision. In vain.

"Legolas?" Elrond spoke gently. "Yes? No?"

The Elf did not respond.

Both Lords glanced towards each other, exchanging wordless comments and calming thoughts. Elrond sighed silently, looking away; his hand, as if on its own accord, moved to stroke Legolas' silky hair, spread on the pillow like a golden curtain.

And suddenly, feeling this wide and warm palm, Legolas found it in himself to decide properly. I am yours.

Just when he was about to give them a sign or say something with effort, someone on the corridor started to call in an exasperated voice:

"Legolas, let me in! We need to talk!" And again, after a while: "I know you can hear me, little prince! Let me inside!"

Legolas Thranduilion felt ashamed.

It was so un-elvish to yell under somebody's door and demand entrance. And where? Into Lord Elrond's private chambers! No, this was too embarrassing and too impudent. Why did I even hesitate before, a thought flickered through Legolas' mind as he went red to the tips of his ears. He forced his strained muscles to move and tried to hide his face in the pillow at least slightly. He could not look his Trustworthy in the eye.

"No." he articulated towards the pillow. Glorfindel immediately rose and went out, closing the double doors separating Elrond's bedroom from the living room.

Elrond didn't say anything, he just pulled his charge onto his lap. The welted, bruised backside and sore insides reacted with pain, but Legolas welcomed it so much.

I am yours in turn. And will be here for you.

Under the skilled touch of his healer, lover and protector, Legolas let a tear run free. It was just one, though; and it burned on his cheek with hateful bitterness of regret.

Elrond wiped it dry.