15. The Morning After
Completely A.U. Legolas slave fic. This story was inspired by Bluegolds story "Bound", which can be found here: http://daemel.freespaces.com/authors.html#blue
I use similar plot ideas here with her permission.
Betareader: Many thanks to Surreysmum, who polished this and made it so much better! She also saved me from some serious embarrassment.
All still remaining errors are my own.
Warnings: Slash. M/m, BDSM, d/s, torture, toys, non-con and debatable consent. Very graphic descriptions. Special warnings for this chapter: Implied torture (of the night before).
Please heed the warnings!
Disclaimer: Universe and characters are not mine, but Tolkien's. The idea of the spell, however, belongs to me.
For all other disclaimers and authors notes see Story Intro.
XIII. The Morning After
Aragorn awoke early to the pliant body of his Elf nestled into his arms. Soft half-light filtered in from the open windows; it was just before dawn. Aragorn groaned. Last night's exertions had left him with far too little sleep. Again. And Legolas ...
Aragorn contemplated the sleeping Elf in his arms for a moment. He looked pale, even given the scarce light, his face was troubled, and his eyes were closed. It would have concerned Aragorn had he not known it for a healing sleep. After the harsh treatment he had put him through last night, Legolas direly needed it. Aragorn bit his lips. Normally, he would have gone much slower through that night's activities, and possibly not that far, and afterwards he would have given his slave at least a few days of rest to recover from something like this.
Unfortunately, time was a luxury they didn't have.
Carefully he disentangled himself, then, with regret, he endeavored to wake his healing lover.
Legolas woke to gentle kisses placed on his shoulder and a soft caress of his face and ears. He sighed and leaned himself back into the body of his master, then yelped in dismay as his sore, bruised back and his still swollen rear sent painful signals of protest through his whole body. His back hurt, as did his ass and thighs, not to mention his still sore and hurting passage.
He stiffened as last night's memory came crashing back into his waking mind. Aragorn held him fast until the pain subsided a bit, finding a spot at his arms where his body had miraculously not tasted the whip. Then he carefully settled him back into the pillows and kissed him on both cheeks.
"Good morning," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I have to wake you this soon, but we have to get up. The fellowship will start early. How fares your back?"
Legolas turned around to him, ignoring his protesting and hurting back, and gave him an incredulous look. How did his master supposed he fared after all he had forced him through last night? But then he subsided. There was no point in risking even harsher punishment.
Keeping his tone carefully submissive and lowering his lashes he admitted: "Your punishment was just and thorough, master. It still hurts."
Aragorn just nodded.
"That was to be expected," he said. "Let me see what I can do about it. After all, we need you able to walk today."
With that he let go of the body of his slave and got up. He went to rummage through the nightstand. Legolas watched him with tense anticipation and sighed in relief when his master returned with a vial he recognized as a soothing substance that could be applied to the most private parts of the body.
"On your stomach!" Aragorn commanded. "Try to relax!"
Legolas obeyed. He hissed as Aragorn's cool finger touched and entered his swollen entrance. The gentle exploring hurt at first and sent bolts of pain all through his body, but soon the soothing oil did its work and the pain subsided. Aragorn kissed the red, bruised cheeks of Legolas' ass, right on top of the angry welts left by his own whipping.
"I will apply this to you twice a day for the next three days," he promised. "It should soon get better. And we will take a generous amount of it with us during this journey, just in case. I might be forced to use it on you more often."
Legolas shuddered. "Thank you, master," he said, then he added very hesitantly: "You... you wish to take the ... the new taer carag aniron(1) with us, then?"
His voice shook with barely-controlled fear. He shuddered as he remembered last night's main element of punishment. Everything in his body and mind screamed: 'Valar, no!!!' - but he did not dare to speak his protest aloud.
Aragorn seemed changed. There was a dark side to his master, shown to him last night, that he had not seen this plainly ever before, and it had thoroughly scared him.
Aragorn hesitated. "You hate it," he said a bit regretfully.
Legolas drew a sharp breath. He hissed as the exploring finger of his master entered him again with more of the salve, touched his sweet spot and began methodically to rub the soothing substance into it, sending currents of pleasure through him and to his groin. His breath quickened and he felt himself stir with interest. Still he was incredulous. What did Aragorn expect after yesterday's treatment, that he would like that instrument of torture? And did his master think that if he now took him in the morning with his fingers he would feel better about the pain he'd put him through with that hideous thing last night? It was hard to concentrate under Aragorn's ministrations. Still, he knew his master expected an answer.
He searched his brain for a reply that would not sound too bitter and would not earn him more harm, but found none. He could not lie; Aragorn expected a truthful answer, and after sixty years he knew him far too well to get away with any kind of deception.
He settled for the truth.
"I am sorry, master," he finally said. "It is very big. I am afraid I do not like it much." He swallowed, voice hoarse and tensing up in fear of another beating, or worse.
Aragorn stopped his application of the salve and withdrew his finger. He cleansed it with a cloth, then he went over to the nightstand again and returned with another vial.
He placed a gentle kiss on Legolas' shoulder.
"I was afraid you would hate it," he admitted. "Actually I regret I used it on you this first time to punish you the way I did last night. I had hoped given more time you might get used to it, maybe even come to like it."
Legolas nearly jerked around to him but was stopped by a firm yet gentle pressure to his shoulders. Regretfully Aragorn said: "I know, melethron, it was a stupid thought. I know my needs are hard on you, though you are bound by duty to serve me and accept all that is given. Yet it would be much easier for you to bear if you could but learn to enjoy it more!"
He coated his hands with the new salve and started to apply it to Legolas' hurting shoulders, thighs and backside. Still regretfully he added: "I like this new toy. And all tied up and filled with it you look simply exciting."
Legolas shuddered. The soothing salve brought relief to his sore back and his master's touch, while he applied the substance, was light and gentle. But his words were actually painful all themselves in their plain and thoughtless cruelty. He could not believe that this was Aragorn, his Estel, who was talking to him like that.
Still, Aragorn expected a truthful answer.
Swallowing hard, Legolas replied: "I... am sorry, master. If it pleases you I may learn to adjust to it. But I am afraid it can't be used without injury. And it hurts."
Aragorn placed another kiss on the shoulder of his slave.
"It is supposed to hurt," he reminded mildly, "and used without the irritant, with time, the pain would soon recede. Besides, I have taken you with my hand before without injuring you, and this toy is not as big."
He felt Legolas tense under his hands and shook his head. "But do not fear. The thing will remain here. We will have no chance to use it on this journey anyway." He sighed and concentrated again on applying the balm to his slave's bruised back and his sore and welted hips, thighs and the still angrily blue-red buttocks.
He bit his lips. Last night's beating had been thorough. It would take nearly a week for the welts and bruises to fade completely, he supposed. He had not really realized how far he had gone at the time.... But at least, this way Elrond could not complain he'd been too gentle. He would let Legolas go. They would both get away from here. And it had been exciting...
Swallowing his slight discomfort, Aragorn took another portion of the salve and took special care to rub it into the angry red welts on the Elf's shoulder blades. Legolas hissed again, then bit his lips. He did not know if he was allowed to show his pain.
Aragorn concentrated on his work, then he stood up with a satisfied nod.
"There you go," he said. "That should be enough to enable you to travel today. It will still hurt, of course, as was intended as part of your punishment. But it should be not so bad that it would hamper you, not even if we have to fight. And the good thing is, I will not have to do a lot to get you ready for me for the next few nights."
Legolas swallowed hard. His stomach churned and he brought it harshly under his control. What did Estel think he was doing? He had been harsh on him before, had even put him through thorough torment before, but like this?!
He dared not give any but the expected answer. "Thank you, master. You are generous."
Then he got carefully up and went to the wash stand. Aragorn meanwhile packed his two vials into his medicine pack. Laying out his clothes and weapons, he waited until Legolas was done, then took his place and started to wash himself.
While Legolas dressed and started to prepare his pack, Aragorn continued:
"Don't forget to pack the necessary toys. We will have to be discreet and use simple means during the next few months, but we will definitely need them. We will take the irritant, of course, since it is one of the most discreet ways I can use to get you ready for me. Some of the needles, too, and a few clamps. And pick a pleasure-staff. Maybe the small metal one; you are used to it and even seem to like it, though it weighs a lot. And choose one of the gags. You can choose one you are comfortable with; I deem we shall need it quite often."
Legolas suppressed a gasp. He shuddered again. So Aragorn expected him to choose, pack and carry the instruments of his own torture?! Of course the order made good sense: Aragorn would need to make his slave suffer to get aroused enough to take him, and he would have to do it in the most secretive way. Aragorn could not get erect for him and could not take him if he could not hurt him first, and if he could not take him, Legolas would die. It was that simple. Still... to make him carry the very items of torture his master wished to use on him...
Shivering, but without any comment, he obediently stepped to the hated, big trunk that held the collection of love toys Aragorn had assembled in the last sixty years, most of them quite painful for the one on whom they were used. He opened the lid and looked with disgust at the intricate instruments of pain Aragorn so loved to use on him, then he began to sort through them to find the ones his master had ordered him to select. While he sorted through the cruel toys, he felt his master step behind him.
Aragorn had dressed himself as well. Now he slipped behind his slave and pulled him back against his chest and into the circle of his arms. Tucking his slave's hair out of the way he started to nibble on his neck while his hands sneaked up to the Elf's chest, found the still aggravated, slightly prominent nipples under the cloth of the tunic and started to toy with them. He felt Legolas shiver under his hands and his groin twitched, even more as the slave gasped when his still hurting back came into contact with his master's chest. Then Legolas obediently swallowed his pain and leaned back against his master as was expected of him, and Aragorn had to swallow hard in sudden arousal and desire. The slave's conscious and obedient acceptance of the hurt this closeness was causing his aggravated back was exhilarating to him like a strong, heady wine, making his head swim.
Still he deemed it more important to do something against his slave's bleak mood than to indulge in some new love games that would surely just result in darkening it even more.
"You know," Aragorn said while one of his hands dropped down to Legolas' groin and started to squeeze and fondle the lifeless Elfhood under the cloth of the Elf's leggings carefully, "if I am to become king of Gondor I will have made the most delicate toys of gold and mithril for you to wear. Some of those clamps, definitely, and some jeweled needles; pleasure staffs... maybe even some restraints. They would adorn you nicely!"
Legolas shuddered at the thought and under his master's touches. What was the Adan getting at? Did he plan to take him again then and there? Still, it was better not to provoke him. Besides, he was also intrigued by the sheer absurdity of the idea Aragorn was painting. He decided to play along.
"You would empty Gondor's treasures just to torment a slave?" he asked teasingly.
He was rewarded with a slightly harder squeeze into his left nipple and gasped a bit. He felt Aragorn smile against his neck as he jerked back, only to gasp again when his bruised back came into harder contact with his master's chest. Aragorn kissed his neck.
"No," he said more earnestly, "but I would empty them to adorn my close counselor and royal catamite, who was entrusted to take care of my very special needs and fulfilled that duty always to my fullest satisfaction, with toys worthy of our love play."
He stopped fondling his slave and closed his hands in front of Legolas' stomach, hugging him close.
"My slave you are and will remain, since you are bound to me, but that won't be your official position at my court. I do not wish to establish slavery in Gondor if I ever come to be her king."
He sighed. "And since there is no way to release you from me other than your death, I'll have to keep you and make the best of it for us both. Believe me that you are dear to me, melethron; I wish my needs would be less hard on you and you could enjoy them more. But it is not to be, so we will both have to live with it."
Legolas hesitated. "It is my pleasure to serve you, master," he said bravely. He tensed and waited for a punishment for the obvious lie, but Aragorn just shook his head.
"Liar," he chided dryly. "Yet it is a pleasant lie. I may be inclined to try and believe it."
Legolas turned in his arms and placed his hands on his shoulders. He saw the well known tenderness and the familiar slight grief back in Aragorn's eyes and felt a great weight lift from his soul. This was Estel as he knew him!
"Still it is my duty to serve you," he observed, "and my honor." There was no lie now in his eyes. "'Tis true that your needs are hard on me. Such is my fate. But I am honored and glad to have you as my master."
He did not say that there were worse. He did not have to.
Aragorn leaned his forehead against that of his slave, hands folded behind the small of his back. "Your words mean much to me, Little Leaf," he said, "especially after what I put you through last night. I would have been less harsh on you, and certainly I would have given you more time to adjust; but I know Elrond will check on you this morning. He will want to know I punished you thoroughly after that argument we had. And time is something we don't have right now."
More fiercely he said: "But believe me, whatever happens, I will not leave you in his hands ever again. Whatever happens on this quest, I'd rather take you with me should I fall than force you back to him. And as soon as we reach Lothlorien I'll find another Elf for you to turn to should I fall or once it is my time. We'll choose one whom you like and who likes you. I will not have you die because of me! Not if I can help it!"
Legolas stared at him, dumbfounded. He shuddered inwardly at the thought of being entrusted to yet another master, but even more the depth of concern and commitment Aragorn showed him touched his soul. There were reasons that he would still die for this man were it requested, in spite of everything.
Slowly he said: "Lord Elrond will never allow this!"
Aragorn's face was grim. "Lord Elrond won't be there!" he said derisively. "And since you belong to me I can and will decide whatever I wish to do with you. And I wish to ensure your survival apart from him. Don't worry, Legolas, I will not choose another Elf without consulting you. And you won't have to go to the one we choose save in the direst need!"
Legolas shuddered. Lord Elrond would rather kill him than allow that.
"But, Master, Lord Glorfindel..." he began, but Aragorn shook his head.
"I spoke with Glorfindel," he said. "He likes you well enough, but he does not wish to bind himself to you. Besides he is Lord Elrond's seneschal and bound to him in loyalty. He would not be capable to protecting you. Nor would Elrohir and Elladan."
Legolas shuddered harder at the thought of the twins. It had been they who had once shown a young and curious Estel the ways of cruelty in sex while using slaves. Legolas recalled the lessons vividly, even after all that time, since for most of them he had been the slave in question.
"But what of Lady Arwen?" he finally asked. "If you are to wed, won't you have to give me up anyway? And My Lord Elrond will never allow you to give me away to an Elf not of his choosing then."
Aragorn's hands on his back gripped him harder and he flinched at the punishing squeeze that aggravated his hurting back and his sore hips. He bowed his head.
"I am sorry for my disrespect, master," he murmured. "I request punishment." He waited in resignation for the punishment to be sentenced or meted out, although his stomach churned at the thought of even more or harsher pain.
But the expected and feared punishment did not come. Aragorn just shook his head again, let go of his slave's hips and tipped his chin up so he could gaze into his eyes again. "I will not punish you for this," he reassured him. Then he stated firmly: "But know this: Elrond is not your Lord! You are mine, and as long as I live you will remain so, save I should choose differently one future day. But if I come to this it will be my decision and not a demand of my foster-father! He gave you to me when I reached majority, and as a gift. Nothing he could take back at a whim. You are mine and I will protect you from him!"
Legolas eyes went wide at Aragorn's fierceness. Aragorn took his face into his hands. "Believe me, melethron! He will not touch you. You may be fated to endure my need to make you suffer when I lie with you, but you will be safe from him. I swear you are!"
Legolas swallowed hard. "Thank you, master," he said gratefully, still hesitant to believe him. Then he dared to say: "Even so, Lady Arwen..."
Aragorn shook his head again. "Arwen will let me keep you," he said. "I spoke with her about this just the other night and she agreed. If I ever come to marry her I will still have you."
Legolas' eyes went even wider. "She would agree to this?" he asked incredulously. "But the bond.."
"Won't be disturbed," Aragorn said. "You cannot bind yourself under the spell, and I am human. I cannot bind myself the Elven way as much as I should wish. Arwen may bind herself to me, but it is not required for me to do the same to her, nor is it possible. She can allow me to keep you and still have my love."
He did not tell his slave of the included bargain he had struck with his betrothed concerning this. This was not the moment. He needed to convince Legolas that he was safe. The price his slave would have to pay for safety could be told later. Much later. In any case, he deemed it a small price to pay, for what difference would it make if Arwen was allowed to watch them play? It might turn out even more enjoyable for both of them. After all he certainly would be less cruel and more careful with his slave in front of his wife's eyes.
Finally, Legolas swallowed his disbelief and gave a small, grateful bow. "Thank you," he said with true hope and relief, "you are most generous. It will be a honor to be allowed to continue serving you."
Then he took a deep sigh and decided to dare teasing a bit.
"But you know of course," he said half-seriously, "that the royal court of Gondor did not use to include the position of a royal catamite."
Aragorn growled. "They haven't had a king for nine hundred years," he said. "I imagine they'll have to agree to whatever protocol I choose to force on them!"
He kissed his slave who obediently opened up.
When he let him up again he added: "Besides, you will undoubtedly be the most beautiful royal catamite they'll have ever seen."
"I will be the only royal catamite they'll have ever seen!" Legolas said dryly.
Aragorn shrugged, glad that his slave's mood finally was cheering up a bit.
"So what?" he asked. "I will be the only king they'll have seen in a long time!"
Legolas actually snorted. "But what will happen if that man of Gondor won't allow you to become his king, oh my most generous master?" he said lightly. "At yesterday's council he seemed not too eager to surrender the throne to you just yet."
Aragorn mock-slapped his head and smiled at his small surprised yelp, uttered although the slap had not really hurt.
"If Boromir denies me as his king," he jested, "and insists on keeping the Steward's rule, then maybe I can at least become a captain of Gondor's army again. Perchance he may give me a small garrison to command. But I still keep you!"
"A garrison," Legolas mused, "with you and me and Arwen."
Aragorn shook his head. "Arwen won't marry me if I don't become king," he said, "as you well know. So you will be just stuck with me. And you won't even have an official position at the court in this case, nor toys of mithril to adorn you, either. I am afraid I won't be able to afford them."
Legolas snorted. Aragorn kissed him again. Seriously he added: "But I would still keep you and make sure to protect you as long as I live."
Legolas just stared at him, too stunned to reply. Finally he managed: "What if we fail?"
Aragorn's face was grim. "Then all will be lost," he said. "All will fall to darkness. Your father won't have to worry about Lord Elrond's moods any longer, but about being overrun and enslaved by Orcs. And our only hope would be that since we are the ones to undertake this Quest, we will likely be the first ones to be killed. I do not wish to imagine what waits for us if we are caught."
He shuddered. Torment for himself, a slow, horrible death for Legolas, maybe Sauron learning about the spell and how to use it or even to cast it... they were images and thoughts he refused to contemplate in depth.
He sighed. "Let's hope it won't come to that," he said. He let go of his slave and took a step back.
But Legolas refused to let go for another moment and held him close. "If I may ask," he hesitantly said, "what will you tell the others... about me?"
Aragorn studied him, puzzled by his question. Understanding dawned.
"We won't tell them about your position," he decided. "After your harsh words to Boromir at the council he regards you with small love, and harbors even less for me. He would not be pleased if he found out that he was addressed that harshly not by an Elf of equal or of higher rank, but by a mere slave."
Legolas let go of him and blushed. He bowed his head. "I did not think of that! I..." he trailed off. Carefully and slowly he then said: "I ask forgiveness, master! I was mistaken. I.. request punishment if you wold grace me with it..." He choked, thinking of the outright torture he went through last night. Fearfully he awaited whatever new horrifying penance Aragorn might force him through.
Aragorn surprised him by moving back to him and taking him by his shoulders again. "Nay," he said, "punishment for this has already been given. I will lay no more penance for this on you. Besides, what you said to him was only the truth, albeit it should have been said in a more diplomatic way. But we can't have him find out that you're not free, now. Nor that Dwarf!"
He tipped up his slave's chin again and caressed his face. "Let them think that we are just friends and comrades. Boromir thinks you are a prince since you were presented to him as son of king Thranduil and representative of your father's realm. Let's leave it at that! And do not call me 'master' on this Quest. From now on I am just 'Aragorn' to you, or 'Estel'. Let us act as we did in my time as Thorongil in Rohan and Gondor."
He kissed his Elf again. Then he said: "Of course you will still have to share my bedding. So we shall pretend that we are simply lovers as well as comrades and friends. This is not too unlikely among warriors after all. They will believe it."
Legolas gave him an obedient bow and said: "As you wish, My Lord."
Aragorn sighed and drew his brows together. "Estel," he corrected.
His Elf answered him obediently yet with a teasing gleam in his eyes: "As you wish, My Lord Estel!"
Aragorn snorted and let go of him. "Very well, Greenleaf," he said, deliberately speaking in Common. "Finish packing, then wait for me in the courtyard where we will depart. You may wish to take a detour to the kitchens first to pack supplies. I will follow a bit later. I have something to see to before we leave."
With that he gave his Elf a last caress and turned, took his gear and weapons, shouldered his pack, and left. Legolas knew he would visit the healing wing to pack some medical supplies, and he had a strong suspicion what else the Ranger wished to see to – or rather, whom.
He turned back to the open trunk and gazed with disgust and fear at its contents. And Aragorn thought these instruments of torture would be easier to bear if they were made of mithril?!
Shuddering he selected the items Aragorn had ordered, then closed the trunk with relief. He wrapped the chosen items carefully in soft leather and cloth, then deposited them at the bottom of his quiver. The added weight would aggravate and hurt his back even more when he walked, but storing them within his pack would not bring him more relief, since he had to carry that too. And besides, stored in the pack it was more likely that the small bundle might fall into unwanted hands during their journey. He did not wish to imagine trying to explain the contents of the bundle to a curious Hobbit, or maybe even a suspicious Dwarf!
Besides, Aragorn would rather like watching him struggle to bear the added weight and would be probably all eager to bed him in the evening.
Legolas shuddered again and thought back to last night. How could Aragorn have changed this much? True, Aragorn had tortured him before, but never like this. Or did he just imagine that his master had been gentler with him in the past?
Sighing, Legolas shoved the dark thoughts aside, finished packing, donned his weapons and gear, shouldered his pack and stood up. He winced as he slipped into the harness of his quiver and fastened the belts and straps to keep it at its place. The pain went through him in a wave. But then he took deep, steadying breaths and adjusted to the familiar feeling. After all this was not the first time Aragorn had amused himself by whipping him before they had to travel on; it was one of Estel's favorite games, even if he normally kept the level of inflicted hurt much lower and was mindful not to tax his slave's strength too much.
He had not done that this time.
Legolas gathered himself, looked around to see if he had forgotten anything, and left the room. There was no point in wishing things were different. He had learned that the hard way a long time ago.
Ignoring his sore, bruised back and shoulders, he quickly went to the kitchens to pick up the supplies, then left for the courtyard.
-- TBC --
(1) taer carag aniron – Sindarin: 'straight spike (of) desire', a pleasure staff or Dildo. (I know, Tolkien would be horrified!)
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.