Beyond Canon

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“It was a good idea for you to speak to Gwindor.” Glorfindel knocked on the door again, despite the early hour of their arrival. There was always someone awake at the palace to let friends, family, and visitors inside the great stone structure. “He seemed to take things rather well, finally finding out about your past.”

“I will have to tell Nenniach as well,” said Erestor, referring to the daughter he had adopted long ago in Imladris. She had long since grown up, was married to Rumil, and had a child of her own, however, Erestor still on occasion referred to her as his little girl.

Erestor was leaning against Glorfindel, unconsciously clinging to his arm for support. He straightened up as the lock of the door clicked and slowly opened away from them.

“Legolas, how good to see you. Our apologies for arriving at such a late hour-“ began Glorfindel, but to his surprise the door was slammed shut in their faces. “Oh, dear,” he mumbled, voicing the sentiment of both elves on the outside of the palace.

On the other side of the door, Legolas looked over his shoulder to the elf standing at the top of the stairway leaning his hands upon the railing. “Whatever did you do that for?”

“I... I do not know, Thaladir. I did not... mean to, it just... happened.” His eyes wandered to the ceiling, near the spot where the rooms he shared with his husband and wife would be. “I think he made me do it. I think he knows they are here.” With a look of worry, he added, “I need to go back up there.”

“I shall get the door.” Thaladir calmly made his way down the steps, passing Legolas on the way. The younger elf bolted up the stairway and disappeared around the corner of the upper level. When Thaladir pulled the door open, he found the pair on the other side sitting on a bench some feet away and in hushed discussion with one another. “My apologies. A place so old and drafty as this is prone to gusts of wind,” he explained as Glorfindel approached the palace door with Erestor walking solemnly behind him.

“Ah, yes, the wind,” replied Glorfindel. “I understand completely.” As they entered, the blond looked around and asked, “Where is Legolas?”

“He had to attend to Haldir; it seems he did not take the news all too well.” Thaladir motioned for them to follow him up the stairs, which they did. He led them into the Elm Room and poured bowls of wine for all three of them, leaving the table he had been occupying earlier to be taken care of by the butler. “I assume that is why you are here.”

Giving a nod as he shakily picked up the bowl, Erestor answered, “I was hoping I might speak with Haldir if he will see me.”

“Quite impossible at the moment.” The trio looked to the doorway, where Thranduil was now standing. “I was awoken by a knock upon the door, and when I emerged into the hallway barely caught the sight of my son entering his rooms. When I knocked upon the door to demand an explanation of just what was going on at this hour, I was told in no uncertain terms to go away.”

“He literally told you to go away?” asked Glorfindel as Thranduil joined the group at the table and took for himself the winebowl that Erestor had been shakily holding onto but not drinking from.

Thranduil took a long drink from the bowl and then said to Glorfindel, “I knocked upon the door, something was thrown at it. Something very heavy, and likely very expensive, which then crashed down to the floor and broke with an awful shatter. I can only hope that if it truly was something expensive,” he continued, “that it was also something very ugly that I will not mind seeing destroyed.”

“I doubt it was Legolas who threw it at the door, whatever it was.” Thaladir decided not to detail Legolas’ hasty retreat, but instead went right to the root of the matter at hand. “If anything, it was Haldir. Legolas was quite calm when I told him your secret, but he said that Haldir was terribly upset. I would not have said a thing, except that Legolas was most concerned about Haldir’s wellbeing and I assumed that if Haldir knew, Legolas was not far from finding out. He was shocked, but he took the news rather well. Better than I myself took it, I must say,” admitted Thaladir.

Erestor sat in stunned silence for a little while, mulling things over in his mind, turning over events again and again. He met Glorfindel’s worried gaze. Before today, no one, with the exception of Glorfindel, knew that Haldir was his son. “Thaladir, what did you tell him?”

“Only that your father is Orome, and that-“

“W-w-what?” Erestor’s face grew pale. “I never said- that is, I thought Haldir only knew about- and now Legolas- oh, no...” He placed a hand over his mouth and nose, and then the other as well, breathing rapidly and trying to calm himself. Glorfindel’s features were grim, and he rubbed his hand upon Erestor’s back. “I must speak to him. I must speak to Haldir.”

“I doubt he wants to speak to anyone, and I can understand that. To find out someone you are so close to is one of Eru’s chosen is a most unusual thing,” reasoned Thranduil. The entire time, Erestor was shaking his head.

“You do not understand,” said the dark elf, standing up abruptly. “I must speak with him!”

“Peace, Erestor, wait until the break of dawn at least.” Thranduil looked to Glorfindel with concern. “We shall break our fast together and the matter can be discussed then.”

“No, you do not understand,” repeated Erestor through clenched teeth. Thranduil narrowed his eyes and gave Erestor a stern look, but did not try to sway him again.

“Erestor, listen to Thranduil. Wait a while.” This advise came from Glorfindel, who stood and guided Erestor away from the door and back to the table. “Darling,” he said, his voice low and commanding as he whispered into Erestor’s ear, “whatever you wish to say to him can wait a few hours more. You are leaving a trail of confusion in your wake, and if you do not explain things to them,” he said, his head nodding in the direction of Thranduil and Thaladir, who both looked perplexed and more than a little ruffled, “then someone else will. You told me once yourself that you wished to be the one to tell Haldir if it ever came to him finding out. Well, you have missed your chance of that, but you can still tell them before someone else does. Would it not make you happier knowing that you told them yourself?”

All the while, Glorfindel’s words seemed to have a soothing effect on Erestor, who bowed his head and nodded in agreement before taking a seat at the table once again. “It is a long story,” he said apologetically, unable to look at those in the room. His eyes studied his hands as he began to speak the words he had often thought he would say to Haldir first.

- - -

In another part of the palace, Legolas was staring in disbelief at the broken shards of pottery that littered the area near the door leading out of the room. “Pity. I liked that vase,” he said, which was actually quite the contrary. In fact, Legolas was glad that Haldir had chosen the ugly, squat decorative piece instead of one of the etchings on the wall or one of the plates that were lined up over the doorway. ‘Probably a good thing he can not reach the plates,’ mused Legolas to himself as he cautiously strolled over to where Haldir was standing in the doorway to the bedroom. “I did not know it was him, or else I would not have opened the door,” said Legolas, touching Haldir’s shoulder.

Elodien sleepily came to where her mates were standing, and wrapped her arms around Haldir’s chest as she stood behind him. The bedsheet that had trailed after her slipped to the ground as she placed her cheek upon his back. “Come back to bed, love. Close the door and ignore them for now.”

Reaching down, Haldir unlaced Elodien’s fingers from one another and then turned to face her. Grabbing a fist full of dark locks, he forcefully kissed her while his other hand wandered down to her rear, squeezing and kneading the bare flesh. Lifting her up into his arms, he carried her back into the bedroom, and from the state of things as Legolas looked in, he had a feeling this was not the first time this evening Haldir had thrown Elodien onto the bed and straddled her.

The door was closed, and Legolas looked first to the plush chair in the corner. He often sat and watched, a trait inherited from his father, one his brother had as well. There was something about looking at beautiful things- such as, crystal clear, sparkling diamonds- that fascinated those of the Green Leaf clan. The sight of two lovers with limbs entangled, panting and gasping for breath, clinging to one another as they engaged in the most sensual of acts also fit into the category of beautiful things. The chair was left empty, for Legolas passed it by and went to the dresser, from which he pulled out a jar and placed the lid aside, still watching the pair, still staring as he came to the edge of the bed and stopped.

Was it wrong, what Legolas was about to do? Not really- the fact he knew that what he was going to do was going to cause Haldir to sleep deeply for the next few hours at least meant that he had obviously done this before, but not for this purpose. Legolas would perhaps have felt a little guilty about it, but he knew it was for Haldir’s own good that he rest soundly, and the only way to do that was to get his mind completely off of whatever was plaguing him.

Knealing down on the mattress, Legolas leaned one hand into the downy pillows as he bent his head and nuzzled Haldir’s neck, licking his jaw. Any objection would have been voiced now, but instead, Haldir lifted his head and nipped at Legolas’ lips, kissing him intensely before returning his attention to the elleth beneath him. Legolas repositioned himself and dipped the fingers of his left hand into the jar and swirled them around. He was sitting on the bed just to the side of the pair upon it.

The salve was thick and did not drip or run off of his fingers, but once he slid a single digit inside of Haldir, the paste liquefied. Legolas spent little time preparing him; the whole point was to wear Haldir out, and the only real way to do that was to take him with as little preparation as possible. Just enough not to hurt him, but not enough to make it so easy.

- - -

Immediately after explaining things- all things, EVERYthing, Thranduil directed Erestor to one of the guest rooms to rest. Breakfast would be served late, everyone in the palace who needed to be there would attend, and already Thranduil had it in his mind to speak with his own father about setting up some sort of meeting with everyone who needed to be informed. The most logical place would be the King’s Kastle, the combination pub, inn and dancehall which Thranduil owned and operated with the aid of Elrohir and his wife, Glorcheniel.

In the meantime, it was decided that all major parties involved truly needed some time away from one another, and so the rooms farthest from those that Legolas, Haldir and Elodien shared were selected for Glorfindel and Erestor. Once the door was shut, Glorfindel had escorted Erestor into the bedroom, where he took to undressing his lover and turning down the bed.

“Come. You need rest.” Glorfindel stood by the bed, watching Erestor, who stood by the window peering out at the vast grounds below. “Come here, Erestor, I do not think the gardeners need a full view of your naked body,” he half-scolded as he pulled the curtains closed and nudged Erestor to the bed.

“He hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you. He just needs a little time to absorb it all.” Glorfindel sighed as he pressed down on Erestor’s shoulders, forcing him to sit upon the bed, before lifting his dark lover’s legs onto the mattress, pushing his shoulder back to get him to lie down, and tucking the blanket around him. “When Orome came to you and told you he was your father, what was your reaction? How long did you take to accept it?”

Erestor did not answer as Glorfindel slid into bed on the other side. A single candle remained burning on the table beside the bed- a final secret shared between them and them alone. Instead of waiting for an answer, Glorfindel pulled his lover into his arms. There was only one surefire way to make sure Erestor would get some rest, and though perhaps it was not the most conventional way of going about things, it was the most effective. And, the most pleasurable. “Do you think these rooms are stocked with all of the... necessities of a bedroom?” asked Glorfindel as he whispered into Erestor’s ear, kissing the tip before rolling back to his side where the table was, and pulled the drawer open.

Indeed, someone, whether it be the maid, the butler, or Oropher himself, had seen to it that an array of small vials of oil as well as a stack of soft cloths to clean things up later were stocked in the room. Pulling out the nearest of the vials, Glorfindel pulled off the top and sniffed it experimentally. He smiled as the musky scent sent a zap of raw energy down to his groin and caused him to twitch. Glorfindel looked beside him, where Erestor was now on his stomach. His hair inky flowed across the pillow and his head rested in his smooth, milky arms, one dark eye watching Glorfindel intently. “I suppose you expect me to let you have your way with me,” he said, rolling the vial between his fingers to warm the oil within. Erestor gave a shrug of one shoulder, his hair shifting slightly and catching the glimmer of the candlelight.

Half of the oil was spilled into Glorfindel’s palm, and he carefully set the rest aside before rubbing his hands together. He ran his hands up Erestor’s back, gripping his shoulders and kneading them while he moved to straddle his body. Erestor moaned into the pillow as the tension was relieved from his muscles. Eyelids drooping, he further relaxed, making it quite easy for Glorfindel to prepare him with the remainder of the oil, and to penetrate him as well. “Oh, valar, you feel so good,” murmured Glorfindel, before chuckling at his own words. “I can call you that now,” he whispered into Erestor’s hair, pressing forward until he was sheathed fully within his lover’s body. “My beautiful Vala. Oh, you feel so, so good...”

As for Erestor, he was groaning, purring, and clawing at the pillow, just as he so often did. The sounds he made further fueled Glorfindel’s passion, and the blond slid slowly out of the tight grip of his dark lover’s body, only to enter him again and repeat his actions over and over as Erestor’s cries became louder.

- - -

Of the three, Haldir had always been the noisiest. Not that Legolas and Elodien did not make their share of needful groans and growls, but Haldir’s were consistent, and louder by far, with an almost animalistic quality. As soon as Legolas had readied Haldir for him, Haldir removed himself from Elodien and looked over his shoulder for Legolas’ instructions. The regal elf of Mirkwood was knelt with his legs open, his arms behind him at either side with the fingers of his hands splayed out to keep his balance. Proud and erect, his member glistened with the lotion that ran down his length to the base. Haldir raised himself up on his knees, then slowly and carefully backed up with Elodien’s guidance until he was positioned above Legolas before lowering himself down, letting out a long, shuddering moan the until he was seated snuggly on Legolas’ lap.

Brushing the stray tangles of hair from her face, Elodien knelt facing the joined pair. Inching up to them, she stroked Haldir a few times before easing herself onto him. She was the only one who moved of the three, holding onto Haldir’s shoulders as she raised herself on and off of his erection, while Legolas simply enjoyed the sensations that he felt as Haldir clenched his muscles and groaned.

- - -

First, he looked down the passage that led to the east wing. Then, he looked down the passage that led to the west wing. His head turned back to the east, then over again to the west. East, and now west. Back again to the east, and now, to the west. Thranduil raised his fingers to his temples and rubbed them as another burst of sound came from the west wing, followed by some sort of grunting from the east side of the hall. Thranduil rubbed his head a little harder, and closed his eyes, willing the sounds to go away.

“Darling, there you are. I was worried when you did not return. I-“ Avisiel halted as a long, loud, cry of passion came from down the first corridor. “Oh, my word!”

A second outcry followed, but the sound came from the other end of the hallway, and afterwards, silence.

Avisiel stood three steps behind her husband, who was now rubbing his eyes. Her mouth was hanging open as she ever so slowly followed with her eyes the path from which an enormously sated and thankful sigh came from. “We... seem to have guests...” she remarked in a fairly dumbstruck voice.

“We need to do something about the acoustics in this part of the palace,” said Thranduil. He turned around and regarded his wife, who had come from their rooms on the ground floor wearing naught but her thin white night robe.

Avisiel’s eyes trailed up her husband’s body, and she licked her lips when they reached his toned, muscled chest, left bare for his thigh length robe that he wore with his sleeping pants had been left untied. Her gaze met his, and the pair stood on the steps regarding one another in the dim hallway. The great clock below chimed the hour of five.

“Dawn will break in two hours. Breakfast is in four. We should be in bed,” said Thranduil.

“Aye, we should,” agreed Avisiel. A nymphish smile appeared upon her lips, but her husband did not return it with a signal of his own. Instead he said, “It is late.”

With a sigh, the elleth turned her back to him and leaned her head to one side in a somewhat demure and passive fashion. Desire was in her eyes as she flashed them back at him and rolled her shoulders back. Unseen to him, she had loosened the belt of her robe, and her neck and shoulders were now bare to him, teasing him as she sashayed down the steps slowly, pausing midway down the stairway.

Thranduil opened his mouth to speak, but found his mouth dry. Damn her and bless her, she always got her way, crazy wonderful elleth that she was. Still, he shook his head in defiance. No, absolutely not, he had put his foot down on the matter. However, one key part of his anatomy was springing up with a resounding yes, and she smiled charmingly at him as she padded down a few more stairs, allowing her robe to dip down her back until the fabric swooped over her buttocks but revealed the back of her upper body.

Breathing in deeply, Thranduil leaned against the post of the banister, trying very hard to look uninterested. His roving eyes told her otherwise as she moved to the bottom of the stairway. With movements so graceful and smooth as silk, the robe fell to a pool around her feet. Swift steps took Thranduil to the bottom landing in just a few heartbeats.

In a truly chivalrous way, Thranduil stopped behind Avisiel, bent down while averting his eyes to the side, and lifted her robe up from the floor by the collar. He stood again, holding it stead for her as she threaded her arms back through with a polite smile. His movements became much more familiar as he settled his hands on her back where the belt looped around, and slid them around until his hands were comfortably upon her hips. “Only you, my dearest,” he said to her, and took her back to their rooms for a thorough ravishing.

- - -

On the eastern side of the palace, Legolas was quietly telling Elodien what he had been told as Haldir slept, completely exhausted from their lovemaking. “I would not think it would have affected him so badly, though I admit it is a shock,” said Elodien. “Perhaps he will be better come morning.”

“I am hopeful of it,” said Legolas. He was on the soft, comfortable chair now, with Elodien in his lap. Together they watched the slumbering form of their husband, looking rather peaceful. “So strange, is it not?” questioned Legolas.

“Hmm?” Elodien shifted to lean her head upon Legolas’ shoulder and yawned. “What is so strange? About Erestor?”

“No, though that is something else entirely. I meant Haldir, the way he takes his rest. So strange that he closes his eyes,” observed Legolas. “I know he says he does it because he likes to dream, but I think he just likes to close his eyes and take sleep instead of reverie.”

“He is the only elf I know who does such a thing,” said Elodien.

- - -

Across the way, on the western side, Glorfindel spoke to his lover as he rested. “Do not worry. Everything will turn out fine. I know you fear that he has rejected you, but he just needs time. Just a little time.”

Erestor shifted in Glorfindel’s arms, and the blond snuggled nearer to him. “Sleep now, love. Morning comes too soon.” He kissed Erestor on the nose, and upon the lips, and then each of the closed eyelids before nestling into the pillow himself to rest. As he drifted into reverie, he did so with a smile, thinking of how adorable it was that Erestor always slept with his eyes closed.
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