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 Randy, who polished this chapter and made it so much better! 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: none. 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.
Aragorn woke a few hours later when the sun already stood high in the sky. Somebody knocked quietly at the door. Carefully, he disentangled himself from his bed partner, then took a moment to contemplate the Elf. Legolas was sleeping. He looked much better now, and his face was not a grimace of pain and need anymore, but relaxed and peaceful. His hair was filthy with sweat though, and he had obviously not washed himself for days. The Ranger nearly laughed at that thought. Both he himself and Legolas were positively stinking! And this happened to his prissy Elf who always tried that eagerly to keep himself – and his master – clean!
He shook his head. "What have you done to yourself, Little Leaf?" he asked quietly, studying the closed eyes, the still too pale face. "Why didn't you seek help much sooner? I know how much you fear Lord Elrond, but still..."
The knocking was repeated.
Aragorn rolled himself from the bed and grabbed a tunic, quickly slipping into it. Then he made it quietly to the door. "I'm coming!" he whispered just loudly enough for Elven Ears to hear, "Just a moment!"
His whisper was loud enough to be heard beyond the door, bur it stirred no reaction in the sleeping Elf within his bed. Legolas was dead to the world at the moment, and Aragorn knew he would remain so for a while. Yet rather than to risk waking him up too soon, Aragorn opened the door carefully and quietly.
It was Lindir, delivering another jug with water, large enough to fill the wash stand at the corner, and a tray with a large plate of food.
"Good day to you, Estel," he said quietly. "Erestor thought you might wish to spend the morning in your rooms, so I was sent to bring you some nourishment and something to wash up." He studied the Ranger for a moment and wrinkled his nose. "You seem to need it!"
Aragorn shook his head. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
"Lindir, what happened? Why was he in that state?" he demanded quietly but forcefully. "Legolas was nearly dying when I came!"
Lindir cocked his brow and placed the tray with the food and the pitcher carefully on the floor. Then he turned to the Adan(1).
"You happened, Ranger!" he replied angrily. "It was you who stayed absent for such a prolonged time! And it was you who bound him that tightly into that spell!"
"I know what I did," Aragorn growled. "What I wish to know is why he did not seek help! Why did Lord Elrond take not care of him when it got that bad? Why didn't Legolas seek out his help?"
Lindir's face was grim.
"Erestor denied him," he said regretfully. "In the week before Glorfindel and the two young lords left, Legolas was needy, but it was not too bad yet. There was still some time until he would get worse and we all thought that you would be back soon; and if you were delayed the other three lords expected to be back even sooner. So Legolas decided not to bother them. The next week it got bad, but Erestor claimed Lord Elrond was too busy to waste his time on a needy slave. Then Arwen brought Frodo to Rivendell and Erestor's claim became true. Lord Elrond stayed in the healing wing nearly the whole week trying to save the Hobbit, and hardly left Frodo's side even to sleep or eat. But at this point Legolas had already become so ill, that he could no longer leave your rooms."
Lindir shook his head. "I tended to him as best as I could, and even would have brought him to the healing ward myself, but he would not allow it. He still hoped that you would make it back in time."
Aragorn made a face.
"I would have done so, but I had three Hobbits to guide through the wilds and to protect," he said bitterly. "Even so, the healing wing would not have availed him. You know the consequences of the spell. There is but one medicine to his illness, and he would not have found it there! Not while Elrond had to spend all his strength and time on healing Frodo." He sighed. "And all that just because Gandalf and I both thought an Elf in Bree would be too suspicious given our current need for secrecy! I should have taken him with me, Gandalf's wishes be damned!"
Lindir merely looked at him. "Is he better now?" he asked with concern.
Aragorn gave him a grateful look. He nodded.
Lindir was both a Noldor Elf and free, but he was friendly and he treated Legolas almost as an equal and a friend. Indeed he cared little about station and rank and ignored it whenever he could get away with it. It was rare that one of the Noldor of Rivendell would go as far as to befriend a slave, although most of them tended to treat their slaves well, at least usually. But Erestor was a special case. He never had liked Legolas. Nor had Lord Elrond.
"Yes, he is healing," Aragorn replied. "But it was a close call. I almost lost him! He was already on the brink when I came."
He shook his head.
"Thank you for the food," he said. "I think I let him sleep another hour, then get some food into him. Afterwards we'll have to take a bath. Could you please have the bathing chambers prepared in two hours? And send somebody to change the sheets and clean up while we are there? I'll let him sleep as long as he needs afterwards, but I'd rather have him sleep in a clean bed." He smiled a bit. "While I may be used to sleeping in my grime when I am in the wilderness, I seem to recall that Legolas does not relishes it."
More seriously, he added: "And I think he really needs more rest."
Lindir grinned widely. "You both need it!" he said pointedly. "The sleep, and the bath, too!"
With that teasing remark he turned and walked away. Aragorn shook his head, picked up the tray and slipped back into the room. He placed the tray carefully on a table, covered it with a cloth and went back to get the pitcher. Then he closed the door, got rid of his tunic and crawled back into bed beside his Elf.
For a moment he contemplated his sleeping lover again. Legolas seemed still much too frail for his liking. It would take yet some time for the Elf to recover fully, and even more time before he could be subjected to harsher play again. Still... to have this pliant body at his mercy, to hear him beg and try to get away just to finally submit and accept the inevitable as he did last night...
Aragorn glanced longingly at the big trunk near the bedside that held all the intricate toys he loved to use on the body of his slave during their love play when they were here in Rivendell. Alone in the wilds he had dreamed for weeks what he would do to this pliant body and which toys he would use on him when he was back. He planned to make it special, a careful play of slowly increasing pain, giving Legolas time enough to adjust and thereby making sure that he could bear it. Just the thought made him hot and hard again.
Sighing, he settled himself comfortably back against the body of his Elf, careful not to disturb his bed partner's sleep. There would be ample time for that later. He would need to wait until Legolas was well and strong again, recovered both in mind and body, to make sure that he could take it. Legolas knew well that he needed these sessions once in a while to store up memories that could help him get hard and needy for his slave when they were both out in the wilds where they could not do a lot to satisfy his needs. And afterwards he would make sure to give Legolas some time to rest, then see to it that his slave got the chance to enjoy their coupling, too.
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Legolas woke to callused hands caressing his skin. At last he was free of pain again. Beside him he could feel the known and trusted presence of his master, covering him in Estel's – currently rather pungent – smell. Contemplating this he wrinkled his nose. They both smelled bad, reeking of sex and sweat and badly in need of a bath. He felt his masters hand wander over his chest and belly, down to his thighs, then up to his face again, finally tracing the line of his left ear.
He opened his eyes.
"Estel," he acknowledged contentedly. "You are back, My Lord."
Aragorn smiled down at him. "Good afternoon," he greeted. "Yes, I am back. And just in time, it seems."
Legolas flushed a bit and lowered his lashes. "I'm sorry, My Lord," he said, "I should have come to greet you. I am afraid I was ... not well."
Aragorn shook his head.
"No. You were very weak," he said. He sighed. "I came back just in time to save you last night, Little Leaf. Had I not taken you then, it might have been too late." He traced the face of his slave again, then his hand seized Legolas chin and turned the head to him with gentle pressure. "I have to say that I was rather shocked to find you in that state. Why did you not seek help? Do you not know that I do not wish to lose you?"
Legolas blushed in shame.
"I thought..." he began , then interrupted himself and lowered his lashes even more.
"I am sorry, My Lord. I should have been more careful." His voice weakened to a whisper while he finished humbly: "I request punishment if you would grace me with it."
Aragorn sighed. He felt he slight shivering of his slave and saw the smear of dried blood between his thighs, and both sent jolts of arousal to his groin. Yet he ignored it. Right now was not the time for that.
"Maybe I'll punish you," he said, "but if I do, it will be much later. You are still much too weak now, melethron, and far too pale. And you are thin. Given the chance the sun would shine through you! No, I think first I'll have to get some food within you and let you heal some more."
Legolas sighed with relief, although the promise of a later punishment sent flutters through his stomach. Well, he knew his master's needs and was long used to them. If he was lucky Aragorn would give him some time before he decided to put him through anything thorough, and maybe afterwards he would be content with that one treatment for a while. Normally Estel took pains to make sure that his slave could bear what he had planned for him, even if it was harsh. And perhaps there would be some reward later.
He loved the times when Estel made gentle love to him and even allowed him to take the active part, though they were rare. Estel normally didn't get hard enough to take him at these times. He would only get hard and reach completion if he hurt his lover, or could draw on earlier occasions of inflicting pain. Therefore such tenderness, while it did much to make their arrangement bearable for Legolas, would not give him what he needed of his master to stay alive.
But it made those times when Estel used and hurt him to the brink of his endurance much easier to bear.
He dared to look up again.
"I am sorry you found me in this state, Estel. It was not planned this way."
"I hope that," he said. "For as arousing as it was to see you desperate and needy for me like you were last night, that was far too close. I do not wish to lose you, melethron. And I don't ever wish to see you in that state again save I deliberately had condemned you to it."
He saw Legolas' sudden fear and horror at his words and even while the thought to have such power heightened his arousal and made his groin twitch with desire he inwardly cursed himself. This was not the time to play, not even with mere threats! Quickly he placed a kiss on his slave's brow.
"But of course I will never do that!" he said. "You are far too precious to me to risk you so. Really, melethron, if I ever should be delayed again for such a prolonged time, I order you to seek out help much sooner!"
The Elf nodded silently. He seemed still a bit dazed and not fully coherent. Aragorn sighed and took his mouth in a tender kiss. "I do not wish to lose you," he repeated then. "I care about you, Little Leaf, and I do not wish to cause your death!"
"I... am alive, Estel;" Legolas said hesitantly. "You have healed me well."
Aragorn shook his head. "Let us rather say that I've been just in time and you are on the way of getting better," he chided. "I think I have to take you one more time at least to get you fully healed."
He felt Legolas' slight shiver in his arms, fear of the pain this would include, and felt regret at it. How long had it been since their coupling brought his Elf more joy than pain and since that pain was merely part of his own arousal instead of its key? Had there even ever existed such a time for him? He could not remember. By now desire, power and cruelty were so firmly linked for him that it took quite a lot of it to get him hard and ready. And Legolas always paid the price for that.
"Don't fear, melethron," he soothed, "for now I'll just feed you a bit and then we bathe. I hope the servants will have cleansed the room and changed the sheets when we are back. You need to sleep some more and I would have you do so in a clean bed. I fear that currently even the bedroll I brought from my last journey smells better than this place!"
The Elf actually smiled.
"I fear it does, Estel!" he said. Then he colored slightly and asked hesitantly:
"You found... the way you found me... you thought it was arousing?"
Aragorn studied him for a moment. There was some hidden meaning in this question he could not discern. But it could wait. He would force Legolas to tell him what he meant by this question later. For the moment he just petted the naked body in his arms some more and placed a kiss on top of the golden haired head. "I did," he admitted, "very much so. But the price for this is much too high. I would not bring you to this point again, if I can help it. Not willingly."
He kissed his Elf again, this time on the mouth. "Do not fear," he said gently, "I wouldn't."
Legolas sighed. Aragorn let go of him and stood up. He stepped to the table and took the tray with the waiting food, bringing it to the bed. Then he went back to fetch the pitcher and filled their cups with water. "Come on," he said, "let's get you fed for now."
Legolas stomach came alive with a growl. Aragorn smiled. "I dare not ask," he said, "but I'll wager that you haven't eaten for several days. Didn't Lindir make sure you had a meal or two while you were here?"
Legolas eyed the slices of bread, fruits and cheese and the two bowls of porridge hungrily, but he seemed doubtful. "He did, master," he said apologetically, "but I could not keep it down." He bit his lips. "I... "
Aragorn cursed. He settled down beside his Elf again. "Let me feed you," he commanded, taking a spoon. "We'll be careful. You eat slowly and don't take too much; this way you should be able to keep it." He shook his head again and carefully, spoon by spoon, began to feed the porridge to his slave. "Really, melethron, I hate to see what this spell does to you. Elves are not supposed to get ill, you know. This should be my domain in our relationship."
Legolas swallowed his current morsel and sneaked a slice of fruit. "I am sorry, master", he repeated. "I will try to remember it the next time I have to tend to you."
His eyes were dancing, reminding Aragorn of the last time they had been out in the wilds and Aragorn grew ill.
It had rained for weeks and he had caught a cold that seemed to linger until he was dizzy, suffering and miserable. Legolas made sure they found a cave, had lit a fire, kept him warm, tended to him for days and patiently cooled his brow when his fever made him toss and turn. After he finally recovered his Elf was exhausted and very much in need of him. That night, Aragorn thoroughly tied him up and used some spanking, nettles and some thorns to torment his slave as lightly as he could until he was aroused enough to take him. When he had finally fed the spell enough to restore Legolas' health he had thanked him by tenderly making love to him with mouth and hands until his Elf was completely aroused, then allowed himself to be entered. Afterwards he had sworn him to secrecy lest Aragorn's brothers and his foster-father should learn he allowed himself to be taken by his slave. Not because he was ashamed of it, but because he knew quite well how they would react.
That had been years ago. Lately it was rare that he allowed Legolas to enter him, or that Legolas even seemed to want it.
Aragorn mock-glared at his slave and knocked his head lightly and playfully. At least Legolas' mood seemed to have cheered up again if he even dared to tease his master. It was a good sign, and lately far too rare.
When they finished eating – the Elf stopping much sooner than Aragorn liked, but Legolas claimed he could not get down any more – Aragorn helped his weakened bed partner up. Then he had to support him while Legolas fought a sudden surge of dizziness and nausea. Aragorn helped him to sit down on the bed again. Legolas sobbed, fighting his churning stomach, shivering and trembling. "I am sorry, master," he stammered desperately, "I...I..."
Aragorn supported him and patiently rubbed his back. "Shh! That was to be expected. You haven't been up for almost a week! Don't worry. Fight the sickness, we do not want you to lose that food again. It will pass in a moment. Shh..."
Legolas obeyed. After a moment he said with regret: "I am afraid my legs won't carry me just yet, master."
Aragorn reined his temper in. It would not do to take his anger at his foster-father, his brothers and Glorfindel out on his stricken Elf.
"It is all right. They don't have to!" he said and wrapped Legolas in a clean sheet. Then he donned a tunic, swept his slave up in his arms and simply carried him to the bathing chambers.
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-- TBC --
(1) Adan -- Sindarin: Human, man, as in Dunadan (plural: Dunedain) – Man of the West
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.