Title & Chapter Number: Quid Pro Quo 1.5/1
Author(s): - Author's Index
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plotline and an evil mind. I blame society for the latter.
Warnings: Slash, duh.
Betas: Nope
Cast: Elrond/Celeborn; Elrohir/Glorfindel; Haldir/Gildor
Timeline: Pre-LotR AU
Spoilers: None
Summary: This is for those reviewers who wanted to know what happened with Elrond and Celeborn after the story Changes ended. I wrote a sweet, romantic fic recently (One Last Time), and felt like I deserved a reward for being so good for so long. Since my favourite reward for being good is being bad, this story is very wicked indeed. Basically PWP with just a smidgen of plot, so don't say you weren't warned. Oh, and a bit of BDSM.
Notes: This is a continuation of my previous Unspoken story arc (Unspoken/Revelations/Changes.)
Elrond saw the dancers out of the corner of his eye as they moved together in sinuous grace, but he was much more interested in the reactions to the performance that flickered across Celeborn's unusually animated face. Wild, impassioned lights flashed in those beautiful eyes, and the slight sheen of sweat on his perfect skin acted as a powerful aphrodisiac for Elrond. He knew, in some way that he did not fully comprehend, that Celeborn was seducing him, but his need had become almost a tangible thing and he did not care.
He tried telling himself that any attempt to renew his affair with Celeborn would almost certainly have disastrous consequences, and it was not primarily Galadriel, now safely back in Lorien, who worried him. Elrond was well aware that he had been manipulated into giving Celeborn what he wanted several days before, and that his father-in-law was a powerful elf who should be handled carefully. Elrond wondered what self-destructive instinct was making him want to do this. But Elbereth, he DID want it, so much that he could almost taste the intoxicating flavour of Celeborn's sweat moistened skin and feel the satiny texture of his flesh. The need to touch him was so overwhelming that it left Elrond briefly lightheaded.
He was so caught up in his fantasy, that he almost didn't notice when the final clash of cymbals announced the end of the performance. The two dancers had ended up entwined around each other like a vine does a trellis, and the sheer decadence of their pose, as well as the thunderous applause that filled the glade, was proof that this particular show had been exceptional. Elrond congratulated the dancers almost in a trance, noticing, however, that while the leader refused to accept the purse he tried to press on her in appreciation for a rare night's entertainment, she accepted one from Celeborn only a few minutes later.
The dance had had quite an effect on the watchers, most of whom paired off, arms about each other's waists as they disappeared into the darkness. The fire had burned down to the point that it was almost out, and Elrond heard Celeborn instruct the few servants who remained behind to leave it. "I will see that it does not spread. Go, enjoy the beauty of the night," he told them, his warm tones echoing in the sudden stillness of the glade. They were glad to comply, leaving he and Celeborn suddenly alone in what had, until a few moments before, been a crowded glade. Elrond felt as much as saw Celeborn's eyes on him, the gaze like a physical touch on his fever hot skin. A feral smile crossed Celeborn's features, and Elrond closed his eyes. He tried to remember why this was a bad idea, but was finding it difficult to think at all. Someone made a soft exclamation of need and it took several seconds for him to realise that it had been himself.
Elrond felt vulnerable--he needed this too much and it worried what little part of his mind was still capable of coherent thought. "All alone again," a deep voice said in his ear, and warm breath tickled the side of his neck. Before he could react, a strong grip closed around his upper arms. Elrond made a slight attempt to move away, but Celeborn's hold was hard and unyielding.
"I think we should go back to the house," Elrond managed to say through clenched teeth. He was not going to give in to this, not going to allow Celeborn to manipulate him again. Then Celeborn's hands slid slowly down his body, stopping to cup his hips briefly before pulling the elf back against him. Elrond felt himself grow even larger, and a hot dampness rubbed erotically against the coarse underside of his robes.
Celeborn chuckled, "Do you really?," he asked, just before a tongue ran hot and rough along Elrond's throat. Elrond found it impossible to immediately reply, and Celeborn took advantage of the fact, sliding his hands under his companion's tunic and caressing his skin through the thin silk of his shirt. Elrond gave a low gasp, shivering as Celeborn found the opening of his shirt and warm, agile fingers brushed the underside of his pectoral muscles, moved up to bring his aching nipples to full tightness, and causing Elrond to almost weep with need.
"Galadriel will kill us both," he managed to gasp out in panic, knowing that his control was almost gone.
Celeborn seemed to find this amusing. "Let me worry about my dear wife," he said, his velvet tones feeling like a caress against Elrond's ears. "I have something . . . special . . . in mind for her. My object tonight, however, is you." Before Elrond could think of a response, strong fingers closed on his nipples, pinching them ruthlessly. The pain sent sparks running throughout his body, reducing him to a delirious, aching, raw nerve. Then he felt Celeborn's perfect teeth trailing tiny bites down to his shoulders, and all remaining resistance fled.
~*~*~*~
Elrohir wiped sweating palms on his thin silk robe and checked his inventory again, just to make sure he had everything. His heart was racing and he felt somewhat dizzy at the thought of what he had planned, wondering if he was not about to commit the single most stupid act of his entire life. Still, Erestor had seemed to believe in the usefulness of the amazing amount of esoteric knowledge to which he had introduced Elrohir that evening, all of which, Elrohir was sure, was already known to Glorfindel. His lover had probably been holding back, afraid to tell him what he really wanted, probably worried that it would scare him. Elrohir was certainly nervous, and a little uncertain about why some of Erestor's suggestions were supposed to be erotic. However, if this was what it took to keep Glorfindel, then so be it.
Elrohir paced slightly, unable to keep still as he waited for his lover to return from the interrogation that had called him away just after dinner. Some of the gypsy group had information about orc movements in the area, and Glorfindel had taken them off for a private chat as soon as they finished eating. As Elrohir was beginning to wonder if Glorfindel meant to stay away all night, he heard his lover's light footsteps on the wooden boards of the floor outside their room, and tensed. A second later the door opened, admitting a rather worried looking Glorfindel. Elrohir kept one hand behind his back as he walked casually towards him. "Hard evening?," he asked sympathetically.
"Just tiring," Glorfindel spared him a smile. "The humans were helpful, however. I think, given their information, we should be able to make a fairly accurate estimate of . . . "
Elrohir never heard what Glorfindel planned to estimate, as his lover had moved into a position which he judged optional, and, fearing that his nerve would fail him if he hesitated, Elrohir pounced. A few seconds later saw Glorfindel trussed tightly and laid out across Elrohir's large bed. Panting slightly from exertion, Elrohir stepped back, a little alarmed by the look in Glorfindel's suddenly blazing blue eyes. Still, a little thrill ran down his spine at the sight of his powerful lover lying so helpless before him, and he began to think that, perhaps, Erestor had had a point after all.
"Something is troubling you, Elrohir?," Glorfindel asked sardonically, not bothering to struggle against his bonds.
Elrohir bent and checked his lover's shackles, making sure the pads were protecting his skin from any possible bruising. "I know you've been very patient with me," he informed Glorfindel seriously, "but I wanted you to know that it really isn't necessary. I am an adult and can provide you with whatever experience you want." He had retrieved Erestor's box of implements from under the bed as he spoke and began rooting through it, looking at a few of its contents a bit dubiously. He really couldn't see himself actually whipping Glorfindel--he liked his beautiful creamy skin the way it was--so he tossed aside the two different flails with which Erestor had supplied him. "Although, I would rather not beat you, if that's all right?"
"Oh, perfectly." Glorfindel regarded him calmly as Elrohir pulled a knife from his belt and looked at his mate's beautiful satin robes. He had recently purchased them for Glorfindel, and they were such a beautiful weave--peacock blue with tiny seed pearls made into elaborate designs all over the outer surface--that he really hated to ruin them. Erestor had said that cutting off your mate's clothes was supposed to be very erotic, but those robes had cost a fortune and had been made specially. Elrohir had forgotten that Glorfindel had been wearing them that evening. "Is there a problem, Elrohir?," Glorfindel was regarding him with a carefully neutral expression.
Elrohir sighed. This wasn't going well. Instead of aroused, Glorfindel just looked vaguely annoyed, and Elrohir was beginning to feel very foolish. "I think I'm supposed to cut you out of those," he said, but the reluctance was clear on his face. "But they are so beautiful. Would you mind very much if we skipped that part?"
"I think I can manage without it," Glorfindel replied calmly. "However, you will have to remove these," and he indicated the cuffs with a nod of his head, "if you wish me to disrobe."
"Oh, of course." Elrohir found the key in the bottom of the box, and soon set Glorfindel free. "I think . . . " Before he could finish his sentence or even realise what was happening, Glorfindel had caught his right hand in one of the cuffs and fastened it securely to the heavy bedpost. "Glorfindel, what are you doing?"
"Insuring that I don't have to watch your every motion to keep from being tied up again," was the reply. Glorfindel sat back on the bed and pulled Erestor's box towards him. He examined the contents with an expression of incredulity passing over his face. "This time he has really gone too far," he murmured. "I suppose I don't have to ask you where you obtained these?"
"I . . . I bought them from a passing trader a while ago." Elrohir knew it was a very poor lie, but he had expected Glorfindel to be too preoccupied that evening to ask many questions. He was beginning to wish that he had taking Erestor's advice and gagged him.
Glorfindel looked unimpressed, but to Elrohir's surprise, did not press the point. "And you were planning to use these, were you?," Glorfindel was holding up a particularly large set of nipple clamps. Elrohir had actually been a little concerned about those, but Erestor had assured him that they were Glorfindel's favourites.
"Well . . . I wasn't sure what you would like. I mean, I thought you might . . . enjoy them."
Glorfindel arched an eyebrow at him, the same way he once had in the schoolroom when Elrohir missed a particularly easy question. "Would YOU like them?"
Elrohir looked at the cruel looking iron pincers and tried not to shudder. He almost succeeded. "No, I don't think so."
"Then what about this?" Glorfindel held up several long needles. "If you like, I could . . . "
"NO!," Elrohir was appalled. He felt heat rising in his cheeks and tried to force it to go away. He was supposed to be mature and nonchalant about all this, and here he was blushing like an elfling! If Glorfindel really wanted to do these things to him, well, Elrohir was no coward. He could handle it and, he suddenly realised, he rather thought it would be easier to manage the pain himself than to have to hurt his lover. Now that Glorfindel was actually here, sitting warm and beautiful and perfect just a few feet away, Elrohir couldn't imagine ever being able to actually use any of these items on him. "That is," he cleared his throat, "if that's really what you want, I don't mind. I mean, I'm sure I'll learn to, er, enjoy it." He made sure not to look at the huge needles as he spoke. He didn't feel well, all of a sudden.
Glorfindel, he now noticed, was regarding him with compassion and understanding in his blue eyes. "Let me show you what I want," he said softly, and Elrohir nodded.
"Whatever it is, you may have it," Elrohir told him truthfully. The love he felt for Glorfindel was suddenly so strong that it threatened to choke him. Anything was worth it, if it kept this perfect creature always beside him. Anything at all.
~*~*~*~
Elrond felt like he was drowning in sensation and the heat pooling in his groin was fast becoming almost unbearable. He must have Celeborn now, or go completely mad. His father-in-law was caressing his rigid and trembling sex through his tunic, but the too light touch was more a torment than a pleasure. It only teased, but did not satisfy. Elrond tried to twist in Celeborn's grasp, but was held firm. He then attempted to hook a leg about Celeborn's ankle, wanting him on the ground, submissive beneath him and at his mercy. But Celeborn anticipated the movement, and prevented it.
"Oh no, melethryn," Celeborn murmured against his throat, lips warm on his neck. "No, first I must hear you beg."
Elrond could barely believe his ears. "You must be mad." Didn't Celeborn understand? He was NEVER the submissive partner, had never been. Even Gil-Galad had submitted. Of course, in his case, he had preferred it, but it would have been so anyway. Elrond Peredhil submitted to no one--never had and never would.
Celeborn's tongue traced the vein throbbing in Elrond's neck, but the elf refused to moan in delight. The skillful hand withdrew from his erection then, and Elrond almost cried out in distress, but the next second his robe was pushed from his shoulders and the tunic ripped over his head. Celeborn ran a hand down the silk of Elrond's thin inner shirt before suddenly dropping to tear away the light loincloth he wore, leaving him exposed from the waist down. The chill night air barely registered on Elrond's consciousness, however, as Celeborn immediately pushed his thighs apart and took him in his large warm hand once again.
Elrond groaned and almost collapsed when those deft fingertips easily found his most sensitive spots, teasing him to even fuller hardness. Elrond uttered a sound he did not recognise, a painful, desperate sob, and arched into Celeborn's palm. "Why are you doing this?" he gasped, trying not to writhe in his need.
"You know why."
"No." Another moan was torn from him as he neared climax, but Celeborn moved his fingers to grip the base of Elrond's shaft, denying him release. He couldn't believe he was standing thus, almost nude in the open air, while Celeborn, still fully clothed, mastered him so easily. "Celeborn, please don't do this."
"You wish me to stop?" Celeborn's other hand moved to cradle his scrotum and squeeze, hard enough to underscore his vulnerability. Elrond fought for breath, for sanity. The pressure applied to his testicles made him gasp with pain and denied release. Celeborn seemed to approve of his helpless struggle. There was a caress in his voice when he asked, "You are very close now, aren't you?"
Elrond was so lost in want that he could not reply. His world had narrowed to this tiny circle of light, in which the embers from the fire still burned. The sensations running along his nerves were not embers, however, but full-blown flames and he burned with the incandescent pain of denied release.
"You must beg me for it." The words were the barest whisper, but Elrond heard them as clearly as a shout. If he could not touch himself or Celeborn did not release him soon he would die, he knew it.
"Please," he pleaded, finding his voice at last. "Please."
"Tell me what you want, lirimaer." The words were a velvet purr, a sensual caress along his raw nerves. Elrond knew in that moment that he was lost, that he would do anything his tormentor wanted.
~*~*~*~
Elrohir closed his eyes, hoping that whatever Glorfindel had planned it would be bearable. He felt his wrist released from its confines, but assumed that it was merely in preparation for Glorfindel moving him into a better position. He swallowed involuntarily when gentle hands relived him of his robes, but tried to keep his expression still. Realising that he was breathing too hard, he fought to calm down. He could do this. For Glorfindel, he could do anything. It almost hurt how much he loved him.
Then Elrohir felt one of his feet picked up from the floor and positioned against Glorfindel's silky skin. His lover must have removed his clothes at some point, he thought, as tender caresses began to move from the sole of his foot up over his ankle to the muscle of his calf. The pressure was gentle, but insistent, and soon had Elrohir squirming with delight. His other foot was soon given the same treatment, and Elrohir found himself stretching back against the silky sheets of the bed with a languorous feeling suffusing his entire being. Elbereth, that felt wonderful! He playfully let one of his feet, resting on Glorfindel's strong chest, move lower, and carefully nudged the soft curls and warm satin of his partner's most private area. Keeping his eyes closed, Elrohir ran a toe down Glorfindel's length and was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure. He was not allowed to continue his experiments, however, for the next instant Glorfindel was sliding up his body, the feeling of skin on skin contact so perfect that Elrohir almost passed out from the pleasure.
Glorfindel began to move against him then, and pleasure blossomed in nerve endings Elrohir had not even known he had. Kisses were pressed along his entire length, before his lover cupped his erection, sending him plummeting into spasms of delight. He gasped for air and concentrated on maintaining some type of control. Then Glorfindel's tongue circled around his erection slowly, lovingly, and Elrohir forgot about control, forgot everything except the raw ecstasy that consumed him as he came. A few moments later and he felt Glorfindel carefully preparing him. Elrohir sighed in pleasure as his lover's familiar warmth entered him, and relaxed his muscles to allow the deepest possible penetration. His lover drew out the experience longer than he had ever done, keeping Elrohir moaning in steadily mounting pleasure for long, beautiful minutes. When Glorfindel finally collapsed against him in satiation he murmured, "That is what I like," with his breathing still slightly ragged.
"Oh, yes," Elrohir agreed when he could speak. "Oh, yes." He tensed his muscles when Glorfindel tried to withdraw, trapping him inside for just a little longer. Glorfindel chuckled, but allowed him to play his game, spooning up behind him and wrapping strong arms about him until Elrohir at last released him.
After a few minutes of blissful peace, Elrohir's forehead wrinkled with worry, and he sat up, looking down in confusion at his lover's satisfied form sprawled across the bed. "But, I thought you were going to . . . that is, won't you become bored with this, over time? What we do is so . . . so simple."
Glorfindel treated him to a long look from eyes that were so full of love that Elrohir almost could not meet them. "I have lived through ages of time, melui hir nin, alone and waiting to find someone with whom a simple physical act could become a transcendent experience. There is nothing simple about what we do."
Elrohir merely looked at him, so consumed by relief and love that he almost couldn't move for a moment, then he fell on him and Glorfindel could only reflect thankfully on the fact that no one was currently resident in the chambers next door. Indeed, it would probably be a good idea to insure that no one was placed on this whole corridor . . . he would speak to Erestor about it, among other things, on the morrow.
~*~*~*~
Elrond knelt at Celeborn's feet as he had been commanded, shaking with need but not daring to allow himself release without permission. Celeborn had used Elrond's own belt to bind his arms securely behind him, and when he struggled briefly against the bond, he had been sharply told to be still. He had subsided, but honestly did not know how much longer he could hold out. Scarlet agony burned in every fiber of his being and little flashes of lightening had begun to go off behind his eyes. "Celeborn, please, I beg you . . . "
"Again." The tone made it undoubtedly an order, from one who expected to be obeyed.
"Please! Celeborn . . . ", Elrond hated to hear the whimper in his tone, the weakness his need had drawn from him, but there it was. At this point he didn't care all that much. Let Celeborn have his fun, and enjoy whatever revenge he had decided to exact for Elrond's prior mastery. There would be time to even the score later. For now, he just needed release!
Moving with excruciating slowness, Celeborn crossed Elrond's ankles over each other and bound them with a strip he tore from the half elf's shirt, which he had just cut from his body. Naked and quivering, Elrond bore it all, knowing that the end result would be worth it. Celeborn then stepped back to survey his handiwork, his eyes glittering as if with fever. Elrond whimpered in protest as his tormentor continued to just gaze at him, when what he desperately needed was to feel those powerful hands on his body. He bit his lip to remain silent, but the pleading in his eyes was eloquent. Celeborn's expression was pensive, but soon changed to one of satisfaction. He stepped further back and smiled, a strange, lopsided expression that sent a shiver of real fear coursing through Elrond.
Elrond suddenly realised with a sick sensation in his stomach that this had been the plan all along--that Celeborn had done it deliberately. Celeborn's eyes were opaque silver spheres, showing absolutely nothing as he suddenly stepped forward and ran one finger along Elrond's flushed jaw line. "Quid pro quo," he murmured softly into one elegant ear, before moving off into the darkness. Elrond was left alone behind him, spilling himself onto the cold ground.
~*~*~*~
"Can anyone hear me?"
The elf in the corridor outside Erestor's rooms paused. He was just a kitchen aid and did not usually venture upstairs, but Lord Glorfindel had asked him to take a tray to Lord Erestor's room, so of course he had obeyed. Everyone had wondered what had happened to Erestor, who had not been seen since the dancers performed two days ago. At first, everyone had speculated that perhaps he had been delegated by Lord Elrond to accompany Lord Celeborn back to Imladris, for the Lord of the Golden Wood had left in a great hurry in the middle of the night. However, a few guards who had been on duty had told one of the kitchen maids that Lord Celeborn took no outriders with him. So it had been rather a mystery. Everyone would he glad to know that Lord Erestor had just been too busy to check on the housekeeping staff lately.
"Please, someone . . . ," the pitiful cry came again, and Fóril hesitantly began to push open the chamber door. A second later and a strong hand appeared from over his shoulder and pulled it closed again, while another pair of hands liberated the tray from Fóril's grasp. He looked up to see the golden haired Noldor that had accompanied Lady Galadriel to Imladris standing there, looking down long noses at him. "You are dismissed," one of them informed him haughtily, before they both slipped past him into the room. Fóril thought he heard a squeak that sounded something like Erestor before the heavy door slammed shut in his face, but he couldn't be sure. He stood for a moment in indecision, before turning and going off in search of Lord Glorfindel.
"I just thought, sir, that someone should know that there might be a problem with Lord Erestor," he said in a hushed voice. Fóril had always been somewhat in awe of Lord Glorfindel.
"Oh, I don't think you should worry, Fóril," Glorfindel told him kindly, looking up from his desk in Lord Elrond's study with a brief smile. "Elros, Camthalion and Erestor have become very . . . close . . . recently. But, if it will make you feel better, I will go and check on him . . . eventually." Fóril bowed very low and backed from the room, Glorfindel's silvery laugh echoing behind him.
The End
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