Bound pt08

Bound 7/?Elrond watched as Thranduil paced. He had been pacing for days now and Elrond wasn’t really surprised; he didn’t understand anymore than Thranduil why Legolas had volunteered to go on the quest. But he had seen Legolas with a bow and had been informed by his sons that Legolas’ archery was astounding and that he was most likely the reason Aragon was still alive.

Elrond had the suspicion that the twins no longer liked Aragorn and he had seen them nearly spit in disgust as they watched Arwen and Aragorn together. Elrond had even told them to not bother anymore but instead they seemed to have doubled their efforts to tear the two apart; he wondered why. Turning his attention back to Thranduil, who is wearing a hole in the floor at the rate he was going, he spoke.

“Relax. He will be fine, he can take care of himself against orcs.”

“It’s not the orcs that worry me.”

“What is this dislike you all have of Aragorn? He has never harmed Legolas.”

Thranduil sighed. Elrond was by no means a fool but when you added the duties of being lord or Rivendell, his belief that his children could do no wrong, and the fact that Aragorn played the innocent the few times he is in his foster father’s presence; Elrond had no idea how cruel he was to Legolas and Thranduil saw no way to inform him as Aragorn had threatened Legolas’ life if the truth should come out.

The truly sad thing was that all the time he spent tending to Legolas; Elrond thought they were just bonding. Maybe the lord felt that everyone loved their “master” in the way he did.

“Thranduil, please- why won’t you tell me what it is?”

“He…no he’s your son.”

“Ada?” The twins ask, entering the chamber and bowing in Thranduil’s direction though there was the ever present gleam of lust in their eyes.

“Would you two stop looking at Thranduil like that? It’s not proper! We are alone, do not play these games.”

“Sorry, ada,” they whisper sheepishly and in unison.

“What is it?” Elrond asks, indicating the twins should sit.

“We were wondering if you wouldn’t mind… well we want to catch baby brother. You know give him a little help-”

“Is there another reason?” Elrond asks, noticing the twins equally nervous movements.

“It’s Arwen!” Elrohir says.

“She wants us to help plan her wedding!” Elladan adds.

“Do you like these flowers?”

Do you think this is a better fabric?”

“What color robes will you be wearing?”

“What color should-”

“Enough,” Elrond says, raising his hand and hiding his smile as Thranduil snickers. “She can’t be that bad.”

“Ada, she’s been planning her wedding for years! Even before she met Aragorn.” Elrohir says. The twins look at their father pleadingly with puppy dog eyes and he sighs, nodding slightly and the twins cheer.

“Thank you, ada!” They say, squeezing him between them.

“Yes and while you are at it, check on Legolas. Thranduil is worried. I will send a messenger with you, he will return once you have found them.”

“We’ll make sure he’s fine,” Elladan says, kissing Thranduil on the lips much to Elrond’s dismay. Elrohir pulls his brother out of the room before more damage can be done.

“Your sons are-”

“A horror I know, but they are good and brave elves. A welcome addition to the fellowship,” Elrond says. “Does that lighten the weight in your heart?”

“Aye, but I still fear for him. He goes against Sauron, an evil that claimed my father. I do not want it to claim my son as well.”

“You must turn your mind from such dark thoughts,” Elrond says, walking over to where Thranduil sits and kneeling so they are at eye level.

“And you have a notion on how I should do such a thing?” Thranduil asks with a raised eyebrow at the close proximity of the lord.

“Aye,” Elrond replies. “A truly ancient remedy,” he whispers, lightly kissing Thranduil on the lips.

“As old as Arda itself,” Thranduil says, standing and extending a hand to Elrond who takes it as he’s lead into his more private chambers.

Thranduil indicates for Elrond to sit down but the half-elf refuses.” This is for your comfort, relax and enjoy it.” Thranduil smiles at Elrond and sits, legs crossed, and Elrond smirks.

He sits beside the golden haired elf and calmly pushes some hair away from his neck and leans into kiss his lover gently. Thranduil sighs as Elrond moves up along his jaw and just avoids his ears before finally claiming his lips in a passionate kiss that leaves them both breathless. Elrond pulls away, spreading Thranduil’s legs and settling himself in the space in between. He slowly starts unbuttoning Thranduil’s tunic, kissing each part of skin he reveals.

“Must you torment me?” Thranduil whispers.

“I am doing no such thing,” Elrond says innocently.

“Are you all such horrors…oh!” Thranduil exclaims as Elrond takes a nipple into his mouth while sliding Thranduil’s tunic off his shoulders.

“What was that?” Elrond asks, grinning and slowly kissing his way back to Thranduil’s lips as the elf tries his best to glare while being so wrapped up in the pleasure he’s receiving. “So beautiful,” Elrond whispers lightly, pushing Thranduil down onto the bed. He kisses his way down Thranduil’s chest.

He dips his tongue into Thranduil’s belly button and the elf arches his back waiting for the next kiss. Elrond completely ignores the bulge in the elf’s leggings and starts kissing the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. “El…” Thranduil is again silenced as a mouth claps down on his elfhood through his leggings. He arches into the torture and feels Elrond release him though he hasn’t moved.

“We must do something about these leggings,” Elrond whispers and starts attacking the ties with his teeth.

“Wouldn’t your hands…be faster?”

“Now, Thranduil, my patience is known throughout Middle Earth, but the longer I speak the longer this will take,” Elrond whispers, running his fingers along the muscles that define Thranduil’s stomach as he pulls apart the bindings agonizingly slow, batting away the blond elf’s hands as he tries to speed up the process.

Elrond pulls the leggings off just as slowly and then stands, folding them. Thranduil refuses another moment of this and grabs the lord of Rivendell and tosses him on the bed straddling his waist.

“My turn,” Thranduil says, not having half the patience of Elrond as he rubs against his still fully clad lover. He tears open the tunic and Elrond stares aghast.

“I liked that tunic!”

“It can be mended,” Thranduil mutters, pulling Elrond’s leggings off.

He reaches for a small vial and coats his fingers. Elrond watches, mesmerized as Thranduil prepares himself. Slowly adding another finger and Elrond can tell he’s found his spot when a breathy moan escapes Thranduil’s lips and he adds a third finger. Elrond smiles as Thranduil removes his fingers. He positions himself over Elrond sliding his oily fingers around the Elf lord’s shaft before taking him completely.

Elrond grunts at the tight feeling surrounding him and waits to see if Thranduil has adjusted and is nodded at as they both start moving in unison, despite all their teasing before, knowing exactly what the other needs, climaxing at the same time. Thranduil lifts himself off his lover and kisses him gently as he lies down besides him. Elrond turns to the side and wraps his arms around his love as they settle into a sated sleep.


“Boromir?!” Legolas exclaims standing. Boromir shoves the elf to the floor and pins his arms above him and Legolas’ surprise turns to understanding and defeat. He looks at Boromir waiting for him to continue, not even pretending to resist.

“Why not fight me elf? Is it because you want this? Were those cries of pleasure in the mine when I thought them to be of pain? What kind of sick group are you Mirkwood elves to enjoy such? You are a weak and disgusting. What foul loins did you spring from?”

Legolas’ docility turned to rage and he easily tossed the man off him. “Hold your tongue, Boromir!”

“Did your mother even know who fathered you?” Legolas tackled Boromir then and may have killed the man if not for intervention of Aragorn who dragged the elf away and bound him to a tree with his belt.

“What in all of Middle Earth has gotten into you? I should let Boromir run you through!”

Legolas deflated as he hung from the tree. What had gotten into him, indeed? He had thought himself an elf gone mad before, but now he was an elf who seemed to be trying everything in his power to secure death before the fellowship was at an end. He watches as Aragorn instructs Boromir to remove his belt.

The both of them? He could barely handle Aragorn on most days. And then there was the dwarf… he had an unsettling feeling about what he would do with that ax if Aragorn ever gave him a chance and why wouldn’t he?

“Turn around.” Legolas does and hears the belt coming down right before it hits him and he swallows his cries of pain. He closes his eyes as he hears the hobbits a way away laughing. He starts focusing on their conversation so he wouldn’t cry.

“Hey Frodo, don’t you like this elf bread? Lembas?”

“Its nice,” Frodo replies passively.

“Wonder why they looked at us so funny when we had our fifth helpings,” Merry says.

“I know, Pip. You think they had never seen healthy appetites.”

“They are elves, rather thin like Legolas,” Sam says.

“I am worried for him,” Merry says.

“Well we have a nice big breakfast for him.”

“Maybe we can get him to start eating like a hobbit,” Pippin says.

“Turn around,” Gimli growls.


“Go back to the dining hall,” Gimli says, standing his ground.

“But we-” Merry starts when Frodo looks past them and can just make out Aragorn and Boromir with a belt.

“Let’s go,” Frodo says, turning sadly. “We have something we really need to talk about.”


“How do finish this quest without Aragorn and Boromir,” Frodo says.

“Aye, Mister Frodo, you don’t trust them either?” Sam asks.

“Sam, I see the way Boromir looks at the ring and how he tries to help Aragorn No, I don’t trust them.”

Legolas nods as the hobbits drift out of his hearing. Aragorn’s hand starts to tire as the lashes lessen in their severity. Legolas almost sighs in relief, knowing it would be over soon.

“My hand tires of this,” Aragorn says to Boromir who happily takes the belt and whips Legolas even more harshly then Aragorn and the elf faints. “Weakling,” Aragorn mutters as Boromir whips him a few more times.

Boromir places his belt back on as Aragorn looks at his. He frees the elf, not caring as he crumples to the floor and puts his belt back on. “It’s about time we had breakfast, no?”

“Yes, before the hobbits devour everything,” Boromir adds.

They leave Legolas lying bloody and beaten as the elf once again travels to the depths of his mind, not surprised to find Gandalf there.

“You said ada was a king.”

“Is a king. Mirkwood stands still, its stone halls empty. Even the orcs fear to reside there, remembering the fiercest elves to walk Arda.”

“We are not fierce. Why do you tell me things that do not matter?”

“They do! Do you not understand what this makes you? Prince Legolas son of Thranduil son of Oropher king of all Mirkwood!” Gandalf said the statement in a way that makes Legolas’ heart swell. He shakes his head, refusing to give in to the feeling.

“It matters not! Nothing will come of this knowledge. We are forever in the service of Imladris and Lothlorien.”

“Times are changing, the hope is false. The time of elves does not end for the time of men. You are their last hope Legolas!”

“And what would you have me do?”

“Lead your people back to Mirkwood.”

“I have never thought you to be a fool, Mithrandir,” Legolas says, sighing. “I have no people even if you speak the truth, they no more know me as a leader then I know the sight of Mirkwood.”

“That is where you are mistaken, young prince. It was your ada’s last declaration that you never know your bloodline.”

“Why not tell me these things when you still lived? When you stared at me as we traveled.”

“I had my reasons.”

“There is no reason to give me this knowledge. I belong to Aragorn, the only one who will ever become king of anything. I am a nothing, no more fit for ruling than he is.”

Gandalf sighs. “You believe you are weak so you are weak, you believe you have no worth so you have none. You believe you can not fight so you do not. Do not wait until it is too late to learn you can fight, that you can break through.”

“Break through? Break through what?” Legolas did not receive an answer as he was pulled out of unconsciousness by burning. He screams as a hand clamps down on his mouth, smothering him in an effort to silence him. The hand is too efficient as he sinks back into blackness; though this time he is not visited by the wizard.

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