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Rest in Lothlórien by Esteliel

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Story notes:
This is the story I wrote for Coco who asked for Haldir/Legolas... First I thought it would become something kinky (as that is one of the things Haldir excels at) but then instead I found myself with this story which had been in the background of my mind for some time. You can see it either as an AU of my Anestel-verse, or as a glimpse of Legolas' future, though I can't promise anything as it will probably take me ages to get to that point with the story, and who knows what I will come up with until then.

Beta'd by Beruthiels_Cat, thank you so much! :)
"You will come with me,” Haldir said, his voice allowing no dissent. Legolas swallowed, his throat suddenly dry at the strict tone that was so familiar, that was so welcome after the hardships the Fellowship had endured on their way through Moria. To let go, to submit himself to the strong will of another – it was exactly what he needed, and he gave Haldir a look of such grateful relief that the Marchwarden smiled at him and rested a hand against his cheek in a fleeting caress.

“Look at me with those sweet doe's eyes any longer, little prince, and I might not let you leave again,” he purred, smirking when his words made Legolas blush.

“You still blush that easily, after more than a hundred years with your Lord?” Haldir laughed and shook his head. “But then, it is a very becoming look for you. Ah, such a sweet little thing you are, and I will claim you as mine for all the days you spend here. Every night you shall come to my talan and spend the night in the company of your kin – and in the arms of one who knows how to give you what you need.”

“And what do I need, Lord?” Legolas asked bravely, although he was trembling with fear and excitement and the certitude that he needed this thing that Haldir was offering.

“I am no Lord,” Haldir said calmly. “You will call me Master.”

Legolas' eyes fluttered closed for a moment and he wanted to moan at this gift Haldir was giving him. “Yes, Master,” he breathed, and with his surrender came a wave of intense emotion that moved through him with such force that now, he truly moaned, a breathy, needy sound of desire and want. His knees felt weak, but before he could give in to his need and sink to his knees, Haldir's hands clasped his shoulders, keeping him upright.

“What a treasure you are!” the Marchwarden breathed, cool fingers brushing against Legolas' cheeks. “But not here, little prince – Estel might know who and what you are to your Lord, but I do not think that the other adan or those halflings would understand. Come to my talan; there I will take care of you in exactly the way you need.”

“Yes, Master,” Legolas whispered gratefully, feeling as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders – after all the loss and pain the Fellowship had seen, Haldir offered him the one thing he needed most. His steps were light as he followed the Marchwarden, all responsibilities, all doubt and fear taken from him at last.

Once they reached the flet onto which Haldir had built his home, the calm Legolas had felt vanished again, replaced by a nervous excitement. Haldir motioned for him to stand in the middle of the room, and now, once again, Legolas began to tremble when Haldir slowly walked around him.

“Undress,” the Marchwarden commanded, so that Legolas sighed softly and began to open the leather straps that held bow, arrows and white knives strapped to his back. Carefully, he put his weapons down, then removed his leather jerkin. Beneath, he wore a shirt made of a fine, soft wool, and when he slowly opened button after button, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest, he once again blushed at having Haldir's attention so focused on him. When the shirt slipped from his shoulders, he found himself almost sighing at how vulnerable he felt, and how much he was craving this dominance of another over him, a thing which he could not help but long for and had missed ever since the Fellowship had left Imladris.

“Ah, soft as velvet,” Haldir sighed in admiration when he stepped closer and ran a hand over Legolas' back. Slowly he walked around him, his hands mapping the planes of Legolas' chest, and once he frowned when he encountered a small wound.

“You have not been taking good care of yourself. What would your Lord say if he found his most prized possession harmed?”

“But I-” One look at Haldir's face made Legolas fall silent and meekly lower his head. “I am sorry, Master,” he said softly, and Haldir laughed.

“Oh, you will be; I will make certain of that. If you can bear a wound without allowing Estel to treat it, then you can also bear a few red stripes on your bottom. You know that you need a strict master with a firm hand – look at you, only a few weeks gone from Imladris and already you have grown all willful! Discipline is what you need, little prince, and you shall get it from me.”

Legolas swallowed and nodded, then gasped once when Haldir's fingers brushed against his nipples, causing them to harden. “Thank you, Master,” he breathed, not certain whether he meant the promise of discipline or the teasing touch, and Haldir laughed at him for it, although he continued to run his fingertips playfully over the hard little nubs until Legolas sighed and leaned back against him.

“Such a sweet little thing you are,” Haldir murmured and shook his head. Then he focused once more on the sensitive nipples that had grown dark and erect under his touch, squeezing them until Legolas gave him a breathless moan.

“I see you took out your Lord's decorations. It is of course the right decision, for you would not want them to catch on something if it comes to a fight – yet it is a pity that I shall not be able to see for myself just how beautiful you look with your Lord's jewelery pierced through your flesh.”

“The holes have not closed yet, for I put the rings in during the night, when no one is watching me,” Legolas said shyly. “I know that I should not, for we could be attacked at night – but they were presents my Lord gave to me, and if I cannot wear his knots in my hair, then the feel of the mithril rings pierced through my flesh will have to be enough to remind me of him.”

Haldir smiled. “You miss him very much... But you are wearing something else to remind you of him.” He took hold of Legolas' hand and gently traced the band of gold with one finger, smiling a little at the joy that filled Legolas' eyes with light.

“It reminds me of his love, it fills me with pride to know that I am his, and that he is mine as well – to know that even if we fail in this quest, there shall come a time when our feär are reunited. No, I do not miss his love; for I carry it with me in my heart. But you are right, it is his discipline which I miss; the way he gives me purpose and order.”

Legolas sighed and lowered his head and Haldir touched the slender ring of gold one last time. “You will have what you need from me, never fear, little prince. Yet at the same time, I promise that I shall not take anything that is solely meant for your Lord. Tempting though you are, I do honor the bond between you. Still, I am a strict master – stricter than your Lord, I would wager – and will demand obedience and submission to my will. You will spend your nights here in my talan for as long as you stay in Lórien and I will give you the guidance you crave.”

Legolas closed his eyes, weak with relief, grateful for Haldir's words. He needed the guidance Haldir promised, and yet at the same time he was frightened by it, for Haldir was right, there were some things that he wanted to give to his Lord only. To be able to serve, to surrender himself to the will of another without having to give his body or his heart...

“Thank you, Master,” he said softly, his eyes shining with gratitude as he looked up at Haldir. “I shall serve you well, I swear!”

Haldir chuckled. “Oh, I am beginning to see why Glorfindel became so obsessed with you! You are such a flattering little thing to be with! I wonder, are you the same in his bed? Do you moan and whimper at every touch, your body arching and trembling like a perfectly tuned instrument, giving your Lord looks of worship and adoration as he uses you?”

Legolas blushed helplessly but found that he could not deny it and Haldir laughed again at his tell-tale reaction. “I am starting to see your charms, little prince; of course you would appeal to vain and arrogant Glorfindel.”

“My Lord has reason to be vain,” Legolas objected, his eyes still respectfully lowered even though Haldir's hands were wandering all over his chest and back, tracing muscles and sinews, but at his words Haldir pulled back and laughed again.

“He truly broke you well,” he said with indulgent amusement. “Now continue, let me see all of you before I decide what to do with you.”

Obediently, Legolas bent down to take off his soft leather boots. When he straightened again, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he began to untie the lacing of his leggings, his fingers trembling when he finally pushed the garment down and stepped out of it, baring himself completely to Haldir's gaze.

“Ah, truly lovely!” Haldir said warmly. “No need to be embarrassed, I have seen it all before, as have a lot of my guards. Still, I did not get to touch you then...”

Legolas' cheeks grew even redder, but he did not flinch when Haldir's hand once again came to rest on his chest, only to move downward to close around his soft shaft, his other hand cradling the pouch beneath. Then, Legolas gasped and looked up, a little afraid now, but also excited by the way he was being handled. He did trust Haldir to honor his promise to not take more than he wanted to give, yet even though Haldir was touching him with the detachment of a healer – or of one who was seeking to purchase a mount – somehow it made it only more embarrassing. His trembling increased when Haldir touched him all over, sparing none of his most intimate places, and by the end, he could not hold back his whimpers anymore.

“Enough for now,” Haldir finally murmured, letting go of Legolas' shaft to instead soothingly rub his stomach as if he were a young horse that needed gentling. “Just the one wound, then – an arrow, I take it?”

“Yes, a goblin in Moria, Master. I cleaned the wound and made certain that it was not poisoned.”

“But you still should have let Estel have a look at it.”

“Yes, Master,” Legolas agreed miserably, knowing it to be the truth.

“Very well, I shall decide what to do about your punishment later today. For now, why not let us see just how well Glorfindel has trained you? Can you set my table and serve my food?”

“Yes, Master,” Legolas said, although he felt a little nervous at the notion. It was indeed something he had done on occasion for his Lord, but there were so many opportunities for mistakes here... and unlike when he was with Glorfindel, he did not know Haldir's intentions at all.

“No clothes, you will stay like this,” Haldir said and smirked at Legolas' expression. “Maybe it will help you to remember your place – and you do make a lovely decoration for my talan. Have you got those mithril rings with you?”

Legolas nodded and bent down to take up his belt, producing a small, silk-wrapped parcel from a pouch.

“Good. Put them in again. It will look lovely on you, and I might enjoy playing with them later on.”

Legolas winced at his words, still very sensitive there, but Haldir only laughed and watched while Legolas carefully put the rings in once more, even though the stimulation made him bite back a whimper.

“Truly lovely!” Haldir said contentedly, then led Legolas towards his kitchen. There was a plate with the first fruit of the season, small, sweet forest strawberries, as well as a few wrinkled apples left from last autumn, creamy butter, a loaf of dark rye bread and a small wheel of cheese.

“You may serve me at my table,” Haldir said, and Legolas's cheeks flushed once more at the dark hunger in his voice. “Meanwhile, I will enjoy the view – it is not every day that I have a Prince of Mirkwood serving me, after all!”

At first, Legolas found that his hands trembled while he tried to cut a few slices from the bread, but soon the familiar work calmed him as he prepared a plate of buttered bread, cheese and fruits for Haldir. He poured a pale, golden mead which Haldir had pointed out to him into a goblet, then carefully carried both over to the table from which Haldir had been watching him with obvious enjoyment.

“Very nice, little prince... Now kneel at my side,” Haldir commanded, and Legolas gracefully followed his order, his back straight and his eyes respectfully lowered, his heart beating fast with the hope that he had pleased Haldir.

“You truly love to serve, do you not?” Haldir said softly. “Ah, and your Lord puts you to work like this far too rarely...”

Legolas sighed softly in assent, for Haldir spoke the truth – this was indeed something he desired.

“There was truly not much need to break you in, was there?” Haldir murmured and reached down to place a strawberry against Legolas' lips. “So naturally submissive – you should have been born a servant instead of a prince.”

Legolas did not object but instead took the strawberry with his lips and savored its sweetness while Haldir's fingers combed through his hair.

“It is not something I usually look for in a lover – I prefer a spirited pet, someone who will put up a fight to make it worth my time to tame them. You, on the other hand, are a creature of luxury, someone to be pampered and spoiled, craving a firm hand yet also in need of tenderness and affection. It suits Glorfindel; who likes to spoil you, to dress you in silk and velvet and decorate you with mithril rings, yet I did not think that such a thing could appeal to me. Yet your sweet, ready submission does have its charm... Does he punish you at all, I wonder? Certainly you cannot give him much occasion for it?”

Legolas blushed and would have looked down if Haldir had not tilted up his chin. “Often enough then,” he said knowingly. “So, now that I have you in my care for the next few days, I am curious how he usually handles you. How are you normally punished, little prince? It is said of your Lord that he is a master with the whip...”

Legolas swallowed and gave Haldir a begging look, but the Marchwarden did not relent. “I... He usually pulls me across his lap, and – and punishes me like that, with his hand.”

Legolas was mortified at the admission, and only grew more ashamed when Haldir gave him a look of disbelief and started laughing at him.

“He spanks you?” Haldir exclaimed. “Truly? Still? You truly wish to tell me that from all the choices open to you, instead of taking the whip or the cane like the warrior prince you claim to be, you instead choose that most shameful punishment of all? His hand on your bare bottom, as if you were an unruly child?”

Legolas trembled and looked to the ground, ashamed now at having Haldir know this secret, and yet at the same time, there was a strange, dark excitement growing in him at having given Haldir such power over him.

“I think I might have to change my opinion of you, little prince,” Haldir said thoughtfully. “It is not the pain you like, nor is serving another what you crave most – it is the humiliation that excites you, is it not? That is also why you truly love kneeling naked at my feet, eating from my fingers – and that is also why you allowed me to touch you all over as if you were a horse I planned to purchase, even though you tremble so, as if you had never known another's touch...”

“Oh please, don't, Master...” Legolas begged, mortified by the description he knew to be true.

“It is the truth, is it not?” Haldir murmured, and Legolas hung his head in shamed assent. Long, smooth fingers caressed his face for a moment, and then some more food was pressed against his lips. A slice of apple this time, and Legolas took it obediently from Haldir's fingers, as if the Marchwarden had not just laughed at his ready obedience.

“Very well, I shall take this into consideration when I decide on how to punish you,” Haldir finally declared and took a sip of the mead. He sighed in pleasure, then lowered the goblet, placing it against Legolas' lips and tilting it so that the sweet, golden liquid trickled into his mouth. Legolas swallowed, and Haldir smiled and tilted the goblet further so that more of the mead flowed into Legolas' mouth. The prince raised his hands in involuntary protest, then remembered who he was with and gave Haldir a pleading look, desperately trying to swallow all of the mead. But there simply was too much, and when the goblet finally was emptied and Haldir took it away, some of the mead had run down Legolas' chin and chest.

“My, my,” Haldir chided lazily, “look what you have done! I thought you would be able to swallow more.” He smirked suggestively, following one golden trail to scoop up what remained of the mead with his fingertip, only to then offer it to Legolas who instinctively wrapped his lips around it to take the offered droplet.

“Such a sweet, well-trained creature you are,” Haldir said huskily and pulled his finger back. He raised it to his own mouth, allowing himself a contented moan as he tasted Legolas on it, then snickered again when the prince swallowed and blushed an even deeper red.

“You should not make it so rewarding to play with you,” he said warmly, running his hand through the fair, silky hair. “Now get me some more mead... as sweet and obedient as you are, I think I had nevertheless better make certain you are a bit more relaxed before we come to your punishment.”

Legolas gave Haldir a frightened look, obviously unsettled by the prospect. He stood to pour Haldir some more mead, then gracefully knelt down at his side once more, offering the goblet with both hands. “Please don’t hurt me, Master,” he pleaded softly, flushed with embarrassment at how weak and terrified he sounded – but he remembered far too well how familiar Haldir had been with the cruel whips of heavy leather they had seen in the saddler’s shop that one day many years in the past.

“But I think we both agree that you deserve to be punished?” Haldir asked in amusement. “How will you ever learn, otherwise? No, I fear that you have been spoiled too much by your Lord; do not expect cosseting from me! I will have your tears, your pleas for mercy, your true repentance – and in the end, you will be grateful for it, and thank me. You know that is what you need, do you not, little prince?”

Legolas lowered his head with a sigh, pressing it against Haldir’s knee in surrender. “Yes, Master,” he agreed softly, already feeling a calm come over him at having all choice taken from him.

Haldir gave him more of the mead, then fed him a few more choice bites from his plate which Legolas gracefully took from his fingers.

“Sweet little pet,” Haldir murmured with a sigh, and Legolas felt his cheeks heat, both from the mead as well as from pleasure at being praised so. “How I look forward to having you sleep in my arms tonight! But first, I think I have postponed your punishment long enough. Up with you, and over to my bed.”

Legolas swallowed but obeyed without protest, feeling himself beginning to tremble again as he slowly walked towards the bed. He felt ashamed at the traitorous sense of excitement that made him so eager for it, as if it was his Lord who demanded his surrender and not Haldir, and yet he could not help but be afraid as well. His steps faltered when his eyes fell onto a lovingly coiled length of braided leather, thick and sturdy and certainly far more terrible than anything he had ever known at his Lord’s hands. Against his will he moaned, low and miserable, and turned to give Haldir a pleading look. “Ah, no… Please, Master, not that! I cannot…”

“You truly are afraid,” Haldir said wonderingly, and there was compassion in his eyes. “Do not fear, little prince, that is not for today. I can see that you have borne that kind of trial only very rarely, and I shall not ask that kind of trust from you. No – your mistake was a foolish one, unworthy of one who is considered one of the finest archers of our people, and who has ridden with the patrol of Imladris for so long. If you lose your healing supplies like you did during your flight through Moria, then every wound is to be checked, and if necessary, treated by a comrade, even if it is a minor one. You know that if you had still possessed your small healing pouch, you would not have left this wound untreated.”

Legolas nodded, his cheeks red with shame. “I would have washed it with an athelas infusion, at least.” There was so much misery in his voice that Haldir smiled despite himself, realizing that Legolas was already punishing himself far more severely than even the whip would have been able to.

“It was a foolish mistake, yet easy to make, and easy to forgive, considering the circumstances. Come – this is no offense worth the whip in any case, and I do not think I should stray from your Lord’s preferred way of disciplining you this time.”

Legolas’ eyes widened with sudden understanding, and he began to shake his head in denial, but at Haldir’s expectant smirk, he lowered his eyes, aware of his nudity and his total vulnerability once again – of how shameful it would be to submit to Haldir in such a way, and of how much he wanted it.

Haldir sat down on his bed, his uniform of fine, gray wool taut across his broad chest, and patted one thigh in invitation.

“Come, little prince,” he said in the brisk tone of one used to commanding troops, yet his voice was still smooth and melodious, so that Legolas sighed softly as he obeyed. It had always been embarrassing to get into position for this particular punishment – arranging his naked body across broad, clothed thighs, it meant utter vulnerability and embarrassment that never failed to heat his face. And worse, it was not even his Lord this time to whom he would surrender in such a shameful way – it was Haldir, who had always had a taste for cruelty and humiliation and who would enjoy disciplining him in this way like no other would.

One hand slowly trailed up a thigh, the touch light and gentle, yet even so it made Legolas tremble – the fingers were calloused, like his Lord’s, but unlike what he was used to, these were an archer’s calluses.

A soft whimper escaped him despite his resolve to stay silent, and Haldir chuckled, his hand moving further upward unhindered until at last the tips of his fingers brushed against the smooth, hot velvet of Legolas’ pouch. At the touch, the prince gasped but still did not move, and Haldir smiled.

“Very sweet – very obedient,” he murmured, his hand curving around the perfectly rounded buttocks presented to him. “Ai, I am starting to see the appeal of punishing you like a willful child!” He smirked again when he could feel Legolas’ so far soft length twitch against his thigh, starting to harden. Oh, it was flattering to be with the prince, to see him react so to every little word and gesture!

“Can you come like this?” he asked, still amused by the thought of how the famed archer prince of Mirkwood preferred to be treated. “Can you come from the humiliation of it, the pain… rubbing yourself against a muscled thigh while you cry hot tears?”

Legolas made a miserable sound, but there were no words of protest. “From surrendering myself so to my Lord… yes,” he admitted softly, and Haldir laughed once more, appreciatively kneading the firm flesh.

“He truly is indulgent then – but I refuse to spoil you so. You can whimper and rub yourself against me all you want, but if you forget yourself and spill your essence, it will be the whip for you… after you have cleaned everything up with that sweet, talented mouth of yours,” he threatened in a dark voice and was rewarded by a shudder of fear and excitement that ran through the prince.

Once more he petted the firm, round buttocks, then raised his hand to let a stinging slap follow, chuckling at the way Legolas yelped, although it was more from shock than pain as of yet. More slaps followed, the pale skin growing rosy and warm beneath his palm while Legolas’ whimpers increased, and his length now rested hot and hard against Haldir’s thigh.

“I think you enjoy this too much for a punishment… Let us see if you will still be as needy once I finally have you sobbing, little prince,” Haldir murmured, growing a little breathless himself at the way Legolas' breath began to hitch, until finally the skin beneath his hand was a bright red, and hot to the touch. Legolas was crying, as he had known he would, sobbing softly although at first he had tried to suppress it, and when Haldir paused to appreciatively squeeze the firm, hot buttocks once more, he whimpered submissively, his face wet with tears even though his arousal still rested hot and hard against Haldir's thigh.

“Had enough for now?” Haldir said knowingly, patting the reddened skin to hear the prince whimper again. “So... it seems that your Lord truly has you well-trained. Still all needful! But unlike him, that is not something I am going to indulge.” He slapped the prince's thigh in dismissal and watched him slide down to the floor to kneel there, miserable like a chastised, out-of-favor pet. Legolas was still crying, although he had lowered his head so that his pale-golden hair fell like a veil to hide him from Haldir's gaze, and the Marchwarden smiled to see it.

“You cry like a maiden,” he said, smirking again although there was no true malice in his voice. Legolas made a sniffling sound behind his hair, as if trying to hold back his sobs, yet he was not successful, and Haldir's smile widened at how there was no protest now even at that most hated epithet of all.

“I expect you need to be soothed like a maiden as well?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as he watched the youth impassively, but then he opened his arms, the smirk vanishing from his face to be supplanted by an expression of true sorrow when Legolas gratefully came to be held close in his arms as he wept.

“Yes, weep,” he said compassionately, his voice soft as at last, all playfulness had vanished. “We all weep with you, cousin... There are no words for what has been lost to us. Alas, a great light has passed from this world, and has left us in a place much colder and darker.”

He gently combed through the soft hair, closing his own eyes in sorrow when in the distance, he could hear the soft, plaintive notes of a lament for Mithrandir. There was a hot, wet patch on his shoulder where Legolas' tears had soaked through the cloth of his uniform, and with a sigh, Haldir turned his head to rest it against Legolas', his own tears of grief spilled into the silk of the prince's hair.

“Take what strength you need, Prince,” he said softly. “Sleep in my arms tonight, and allow yourself to forget for a while. I know that I am not your Lord, yet you humble us all with this task you have taken. My companionship, my dominance, my whip – you shall have what you need from me.”

Legolas shuddered in his arms, too overcome by grief to speak, so that Haldir slowly sank back, keeping the prince in his arms until they both came to rest on the bed.

“You have grown strong and brave, Prince,” the Marchwarden whispered against his ear, his voice rough with emotion. “You are an example to us all. And as your Lord foretold so many years ago, it is your pure heart, your compassion, that puts us all to shame. I could not do this task you took on yourself – yet I watched you stand unflinchingly before our Lady.”

“I do not desire power,” Legolas whispered against his shoulder, “I never have. What I desire most – the love of they who are most important to me – I already am certain of. There is nothing the ring can promise me, for my wants are simple. I want my family's love, and a quiet, peaceful life... and I shall have that.”

He sighed once, then finally looked up to give Haldir a trembling smile. “Maybe I would like to give my Lord another child as well, but that, too, is not something the ring can grant. No... Soon, we shall leave these shores, no matter how it all ends, and then we shall truly be happy – the only danger upon those days my Lord decides to hunt the wild boar.”

“And you well deserve it, too,” Haldir sighed, “even though I have never desired that kind of life for myself. Yet I wager your Lord is well-equipped to bring a different kind of excitement even to the tranquil days and nights of Aman...”

He raised a hand to gently wipe some of the tears from Legolas' cheeks, then pressed a chaste kiss to his brow. “Sleep, Prince. Find what rest you can in my arms. While you are here, you are mine to protect, so dream of your Lord and another golden-locked child, and trust me to guard your sleep.”