Legolas' Seat

by erobey

beta'd by Sarah AK

Rating: PG13

Pairing: Gandalf/Legolas

Summary: Let us pretend that Legolas was a regular messenger from Mirkwood to Imladris, but as yet had not had opportunity to meet Gandalf, though of course he had heard of him! This story takes place just before the Council of Elrond and is a fun tribute to Sir Ian's portrayal of Gandalf and his comments regarding slash fic!

Category: Humour

Disclaimer: All the characters and places were originally created by JRR Tolkien and are the property of his estate.

Chapter Four

Mighty Glorfindel stormed down the passageway in search of his lover's secret paramour, imagining how to end the brazen youth's immortal existence. He thought he might dismember him, starting with a particularly sensitive appendage first, which he would force the crass Wood Elf to swallow whole before proceeding to hack him up into little tiny pieces! Yes, that would be very satisfying!

But no, he could not actually kill the sylvan. Even though Legolas was the lowest sort of elda he was still an elf, and the Noldor had enough of a bad reputation for kin-slaying as it was! Glorfindel halted and sighed, attempting to calm himself before proceeding.

As long as the Woodland fornicator survived, no one would hold Glorfindel to blame for exacting retribution. Or at least, he would be quickly forgiven. Now, what manner of repayment could the Balrog slayer demand for so gross an infraction upon elven law and custom? The hero of Gondolin smiled a slow, cruel grin as he drew his dagger from its sheath and tested the fine edge of its blade against his thumb.

Of course, it was the perfect solution. He would geld the youth and thus ensure he would never again so dishonour the bond between soulmates!

As for Elrohir, well, Glorfindel had already decided to forgive his lover. It was all that Wood Elf's doing; everyone knew they practiced dark magics in their gloomy woods! Why, they had enchanted an entire river for Menel's sake! It was even rumoured they had domesticated the giant spiders, training them to savour only the taste of dwarven flesh, thus discouraging the children of Aulë from using the Forest Road! It would be an easy thing for Legolas to summon a spell of enthrallment upon Elrohir!

Just as he resumed his march down the hall, Glorfindel heard the sound of a door opening and caught the strains of his lover's fair laughter floating on the air. Quickly the blond elda ducked into the nearest room, one of the baths for this wing, and peeked cautiously around the door's jam to see what Elrohir was doing. His eyes blazed anew and it took every ounce of self-disciplined control he possessed for the Balrog slayer to remain still and quiet, for his lover was exiting the chambers of none other than that disgusting seducer, Legolas!

"Go and get your bath, Legolas! I have kept you from it long enough!" Elrohir was saying as he stood in the hall before the open door.

"Thank you, Elrohir!" Legolas said and spontaneously threw his arms around the twin and hugged him. "That is just what I needed! I feel much better now for your kind consolation and advice!"

Elrohir laughed and patted the sylvan's naked back gently. "Anytime, mellon nin, anytime! Off with you now, Glorfindel expects you on the archery range this afternoon to provide some healthy competition for his warriors, and I daresay you could use a little rest beforehand!"

The two broke their light embrace and Legolas smiled as he shut his door. Elrohir turned and ambled away down the hall as Glorfindel retreated fully into the bathing room. The younger twin did not notice his lover there at all.

As he passed by, Glorfindel looked out again and watched him walk away, noticing the Orc slayer was holding something in his hand. Again Glorfindel's wrath boiled close to eruption and he strained to prevent himself from bolting after his lover and snatching away the offending cloth. He had recognized the material of the tunic Legolas had been wearing that very morning! Elrohir meant to keep a souvenir of their encounter!

Glorfindel settled his bulk against a hamper for soiled laundry with all the menace of a viper coiled for assault and waited for Legolas to appear, eager to put his knife to work on the vile elf's privates.

Erestor and Lindir burst into Frodo's room in the Healing wing and found the Lord of Imladris and Gandalf quietly speaking with the recovering Ringbearer in gentle and reassuring tones as Sam stood by the bedside. The two Noldor started talking at once and Elrond frowned as he tried to make some sense out of their wild ranting.

"Elrond! Hurry, you must stop Glorfindel!" shouted Erestor, his features presenting a disquieting amalgamation of panic and guilt.

"Yes, my Lord, the Wood Elf's life is at stake!" Lindir was rocking back and forth on his heels and at one point convulsively clutched Elrond's sleeve.

"What? What are you talking about?" demanded Elrond.

"Why would Glorfindel injure Legolas?" asked Gandalf.

"Because he thinks Legolas is carrying on with his lover behind his back!" shouted Erestor.

"Please, my Lord, there is no time for explanations now! Glorfindel is already on his way to find Legolas!" added Lindir.

Sam could not suppress a sharp inhalation and all attention riveted upon him as his eyes darted from one to the other, resting finally upon his elegant host.

"I made them promise not to tell anyone, Lord Elrond, I swear I did! I never meant the Wood Elf to be hurt! I had no idea Mirvain was Glorfindel's lover, too!" the poor Hobbit sobbed and covered his face with his hands.

"Oh, Sam, what have you done?" cried Frodo softly in weary, aggrieved tones.

But the rest of the room's occupants were staring at the gardener with confused and rather sickened expressions masking their faces.

"Mirvain?" scoffed Erestor. "My dear Hobbit, Mirvain is a horse!"

"What?" Sam parted his fingers and chanced a glance at Elrond, but closed them back quickly upon meeting the forbidding scowl of the Noldo Lord.

It was at this point in the conversation that Merry, Pippin, and Strider arrived, and Pippin frowned furiously at Sam while Merry rushed to Frodo.

"Oh, you're awake! Do you feel better, Frodo?" he said.

"Much better, Merry! Now what is all this about?" Frodo smiled back as he spoke.

"Sam, you ninny, Mirvain is a horse!" yelled Pippin. If he could have reached Sam he would have given his friend a sound smack on the head, but there were too many elves in the room blocking the way.

"Aye, Elrohir is Glorfindel's lover! Do you mean to tell me this is all about a horse?" Lindir blurted out in indignation and immediately regretted his words as Elrond visibly flinched.

"What did you say?" asked the Lord of Imladris quietly, but his words were packed with restrained outrage and a father's denial. Lindir closed his eyes and rubbed his hand across his forehead, mumbling something too softly for anyone to make out.

"Adar, if Glorfindel believes this news, both elves may be in jeopardy! He may not think before he acts!" cautioned Strider urgently. He reached over and placed a supporting hand on his foster-father's shoulders.

"Aragorn is right. Elrond, I think it would be best to find Glorfindel and make sure Legolas is unharmed," Gandalf suggested. "The rest we can solve later."

The elf Lord sighed and smiled a feeble smile as he reached up and squeezed Strider's hand in silent thanks. Stifling his ire over his son and his loyal servant's hiding of their attachment, the Lord of Imladris charged from the room, calling for Erestor to get his healing supplies and for Gandalf to accompany him. Having a wizard around might be necessary to deter the volatile Balrog slayer if Elrond failed to calm him with reason.

Erestor, Lindir, and Strider followed and Merry and Pippin hurried after them. Sam moved to join the procession but Frodo called him back.

"Nay, Sam, you stay here and tell me the whole mess, right from the start!" he said brusquely and Sam obediently returned to his side.

En masse the group fled toward Legolas' room, desperately hoping to find him there and still breathing! As they turned the corner where the Healing Wing adjoined the main body of the house, the stampeding herd of elves, man, wizard, and Hobbits encountered Elrohir, and the elf knight was nearly run down for the second time that day.

The younger twin was shocked to feel his father snatch him by the hair and yank him along with them, for Elrohir had no idea what it was all about.

Legolas emerged from his room clad in a long, soft robe of clean, white cotton and nothing more. He made his way towards the bathing room feeling much calmer after talking with Elrohir.

He had poured out his troubles and worries to the younger twin, for the Peredhel's admission of love for the Balrog slayer had granted Legolas the courage to confess the stirring of attraction he had felt on meeting the wise wizard. To think he had lost any chance to develop a similar response from the Istar was so utterly depressing! The Imladrian prince had easily allayed his fears and convinced him he was over reacting. Now, all Legolas needed was a thorough scrubbing and a quick nap and he would be completely set to rights again.

He stepped into the bathing room and shut the door, and jumped when he turned to find Glorfindel already there. Before the young elf could even begin to formulate an apology and make his retreat, the Balrog slayer's meaty fist crashed with ferocious accuracy into Legolas' right eye.

The power of the punch threw him back and he fell hard against the stone bathing basin, banging his head soundly. Momentarily stunned, the Wood Elf cringed as Glorfindel loomed over him, face contorted with rage, screaming into his ear. The battered sylvan was not able to catch on very well; his head was pounding too loudly and his hearing was distorted by a persistent ringing. He reached behind him, gingerly felt the growing bump on the back of his head, and groaned.

"Impudent tart!" Glorfindel ranted. He grasped the flowing robe and ripped it away, exposing Legolas fully as he brandished his dagger before the archer's eyes. "I will make sure you never spill seed again!" So saying he reached down and grabbed the soft smooth sac holding the Wood Elf's testicles and brutally squeezed.

Legolas unleashed a blood curdling scream and lay trembling under the fierce warrior's clutches. He tried to kick the elf away and received another blow to the face for that and an even more punishing compression round his abused balls.

"Please, Lord Glorfindel!" the poor elf cried, and he really was crying, but Glorfindel showed no mercy and twisted the soft flesh in his hand. Legolas' high-pitched, desperate shrieks reached the throng of rescuers barreling down the hallway and they all redoubled their speed. They arrived at the door and shoved and pushed to get into the bathing room, halting in shock at the sight before them.

"Glorfindel! Stop this at once!" Elrond shouted.

"Take your hands off that elf!" yelled Lindir.

"It was all a misunderstanding!" added Merry.

"Elbereth, he is going to castrate him!" Gandalf's shocked words rang out.

"Oh please do not do that, Glorfindel!" implored Erestor.

"Ooooh!" groaned Pip, his face all sympathetically scrunched up as his hands dove to form a protective shield around his crotch.

"Valar!" swore Aragorn, fearful to make a move lest the blade slip during the struggle and render his friend a eunuch.

"Melethron, he is innocent! What are you doing?" Elrohir's frightened voice trembled as he observed his glorious lover, one hand full of Wood Elf genitalia while the other held a dagger poised to sever the youth's potency forever.

And at the sound of his lover's voice, so confused and saddened and hurt, Glorfindel knew at once that Elrohir had never touched this elf, nor had Legolas seduced him with charms or enchantments. The Balrog slayer looked down at the young elf shaking in fear and agony, tears streaming from under the tightly shut grooves where his eyes were hidden. Carefully, Glorfindel let go and backed away, hastily sheathing his dagger.

Legolas gasped and rolled over, placing his back to the crowd, and curled up into a ball. He drew his knees up close and buried his hands down against his nether regions and rocked himself in misery as sobs racked his slender naked frame. He was in so much pain he barely even registered the fact that this latest, ultimate degradation was on public display. He was just grateful to be whole, and silently thanked Elrohir for calling Glorfindel off in time.

The assembled group breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Glorfindel sheepishly hung his head in remorse. He lifted somber eyes to his younger lover in a plea for understanding.

"I thought, that is; I overheard you and he were?" he began making his excuses, but Elrond cut him off brusquely.

"Never mind all your rationalizing! You would spill blood in my house, Glorfindel? Innocent blood at that!" the Lord seethed. "I need to speak with you and Elrohir privately, now!" the stern father growled. "Gandalf, if you would be so kind as to tend to our young friend?" A brief nod from the Istar satisfied the Noldo Lord. Still grasping his son's tresses, Elrond stalked out and the two lovers had no choice but to meekly follow.

"Alright, it is over and no harm done!" came Lindir's rather overly optimistic assessment, earning him a disapproving grimace from Gandalf. "I? I am truly sorry about all this, Legolas!" The minstrel hastily extended his apology. "Come along Erestor, you have work to do and I have to prepare for the evening's dinner music," he tugged strongly at the seneschal's sleeve.

Erestor was staring, mesmerized, at the naked elf's supple and sensuous rear as it lightly rocked back and forth, and frowned when he finally realized what his friend was saying. He complied, however, and the two left the scene.

Merry swallowed hard, twice, before creating enough moisture to produce words. "Legolas, please forgive us! We never meant anything like this to happen!"

"Oh, I feel just awful! I hope we can still be friends!" added Pippin in a teary voice. He sniffed to hold back the flood, for the suffering elf had not acknowledged anyone's presence as yet, and the Hobbit didn't know if he was very, very angry or just in too much pain to care at the moment.

"I think Legolas could use some privacy," said Strider to the Hobbits softly and with a hand on either shoulder steered them from the bathing room.

That left the wizard with the softly whimpering elf. Somehow, the Istar had to explain to the abused youth how it was that he nearly lost his vital male accoutrements before he lost his virginity! He quietly approached and knelt down, patting the young one's back consolingly.

"There now, Legolas, there now! It was all a horrible mistake! Glorfindel never meant to hurt you, I am sure!"

"Yes he did! He said so; he had a knife and was about to, to?" the youth stared up at the wizard with a look composed of confusion, reproach, and terror. The realization that he was stark naked in the presence of the great Istar suddenly filled his eyes and a rapid flush stained his cheeks as he dropped his head to the floor with a despairing groan.

Gandalf understood and gathered up the robe, draping it over Legolas as best he could without making too much contact with his skin. The wizard sighed with a small smile; the elf was so beautiful! He reached out and brushed the long hair back from Legolas' face in a gentle touch that became more of a caress as his fingers filtered through the fine, golden threads.

"And why?" the youth wailed. "What did I do to him?" His tears started afresh and he screwed his eyes shut again as he carefully extracted one hand from between his thighs and threaded it through the sleeve of the torn garment, tucking the fabric protectively up around his neck.

"I know, it was frightful, but it is over and you are whole! He somehow or other thought you and Elrohir were lovers behind his back."

Legolas gasped and his eyes flew open in shock as he stared at the Maia.

"That is ridiculous! Elrohir is my best friend! I cannot imagine feeling that way about him! I have never even? He loves Glorfindel and would never do such a thing!"

The sylvan started to unwrap his folded form and winced with a hissing cry as his tender testicles brushed lightly against his leg. "Oh, Mithrandir, it hurts! I think he has ruined me!" he cried as he struggled to sit up without hurting anything or exposing himself again.

Gandalf shushed in soothing sympathy as he gathered Legolas up into his arms and held him on his lap. He felt the Wood Elf's body become rigid and gently rubbed his back until Legolas relaxed.

"I am sure there is no permanent damage, young one! Here, let me have a look at you," he cajoled and lifted first the elf's chin to examine the growing edema around his eye. With a gentle thumb he pressed against the bloody gash at the corner of Legolas' swollen mouth and on impulse bent to plant a soft kiss upon the hurt. He pulled back and smiled at the way Legolas' pupils dilated and a soft sigh left his bruised lips in response.

"I thought," Legolas blinked and swallowed. "I thought that you found me appalling and, and coarse!"

"Wherever did you get such an idea!" Gandalf's brows rose high on his forehead and Legolas almost laughed at the quizzical expression this produced. "Legolas, I find you refreshingly unassuming and genuine!"

"But, earlier today when we met, I was such a mess and my archery was poor and I could not find proper words to say to you!"

"A mess?" Gandalf's rumbling laugh filled the bathing room and he carefully drew the elf into a closer embrace. "Legolas, I assure you, nothing about your physical appearance is unappealing! Your speech was brief but courteous, certainly not worthy of worry! As for the archery, I have never witnessed such skill!"

Back in Frodo's room, Samwise Gamgee sat in shamefaced dejection upon the soft, comfortable armchair next to his master's bedside. After listening to the entire tale, Mr. Frodo had given him a thorough scolding regarding the evils of gossip and the importance of discretion. The distraught Hobbit was waiting with a sinking heart to learn if his error had caused the young elf in question, which he had as yet never even seen, serious harm.

Strider opened the door and Pippin preceded him into the room with Merry at his side. Frodo and Sam sat up in grim anticipation, scrutinizing their friends to see if anything might indicate the outcome of the Balrog slayer's wrath.

"All is well," Strider assured them and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Oh, thank the stars!" breathed Sam and slumped back against the chair.

"Aye, we barely made it in time, and if Elrohir had not come along I am not sure Legolas would still be intact!" said Pippin.

"Glorfindel was about to cut off his balls!" added Merry crudely, and both his friends winced at the mental image.

"Oh, that poor elf!" cried Sam and covered his face as his shoulders shook under the forceful exit of fresh tears.

"It didn't happen, Sam!" consoled Frodo. "Didn't you hear Strider? Legolas is unharmed!"

"But he might have been harmed, and it's all my fault! Always goin' off exercisin' my tongue before my mind knows enough to make any sense of it!"

Before anyone could contradict the Halfling's self-recrimination, a loud insistent complaint issued forth from Frodo's deprived stomach. For three days he had taken little more than water and broth and medicine, and his body was ready for something more substantial.

"Excuse me!" he said with a laugh, and his cousins joined in as Strider grinned. Just then, as if in answer to the rumbling, Sam's gut gave a corresponding grumble over the lack of breakfast, both first and second, as well as luncheon. "Sam!" fussed Frodo. "Did you go without meals to sit here with me?"

"He did, and we told him to go get something!" said Pippin.

"Aye, and you said you'd bring me back a snack, if I recall!" rejoined Sam.

"Sam, take yourself down to the kitchens and eat; you can bring back a light meal of fruit and bread for Frodo when you're done," ordered Strider firmly.

"We'll stay and keep Frodo company 'til you return," said Merry, and Pip nodded agreement.

Sam reluctantly acquiesced and left the room, padding down the broad, elegant hallway. Perhaps he was still befuddled by guilt, or the lack of nourishment caused a lapse in memory, but whatever the reason, Master Samwise became hopelessly lost within the labyrinthine corridors of the huge mansion.

With growing irritation the Hobbit turned first down one hall and then another, peeked into open doors cautiously and doubled back twice. Eventually he came to the guest wing of the house and was at last confident he would be able to make his way out and to the kitchens. As he approached a half-opened door in the middle of the passage, he heard a most alarming cry of distress issue from the room beyond and halted.

"Just relax now, Legolas. I will be as gentle as I can be," the wizard's voice drifted out clearly as he dropped his hand down onto the trembling elf's legs, rigidly drawn up again in a protective barrier shielding his genitals.

"Ai! That hurts!" moaned the elf, and several rapid and audible panting breaths followed the utterance.

"I know, but it will not take me much time to finish and I promise it will not be painful for very long!"

Sam's eyes grew large as he comprehended this statement, put two and two together, and derived the incorrect result. Again.

Carefully the wizard pried open the knees protecting Legolas' injured scrotum and patted the elf's shoulder when he grabbed a handful of the long, grey beard for comfort.

"Are you ready?" Mithrandir kindly said and waited for the elf's ragged breathing to subside before proceeding with the examination.

Legolas held his breath, shut his eyes, buried his face against the Istar's shoulder, and prepared for more searing pain. Though Gandalf's touch was exceedingly gentle as he cautiously inspected him, Legolas could not help flinching and cried out again when the wizard palpated the delicate sac to make sure the glands within were not ruptured. Finally, it was over and Legolas exhaled a long, loud sigh of relief as Mithrandir lightly laughed.

It was more than Sam could bear. He covered his burning ears with his hands to prevent hearing any more sounds of elven passion. And he certainly had no desire to learn what sort of noises a wizard made during such activity! He fled off down the hall past the bathing room making a very noisy Hobbity thumping with his broad, hairy feet.

"What was all that racket?" asked Legolas, snuggling against the powerful body of the renowned Istar as he stared into the penetrating gaze of the compelling black eyes, and noted with surprise how nice the silky strands of Gandalf's beard felt against his bare chest.

"I am not certain, one of the Halflings, perhaps. Do you think you can rise?" Mithrandir shrugged off the clamour, more interested in his pleasing burden.

"I think so. I never did get a bath, how annoying!"

"By all means, have a good soak! The warm water will be very soothing and should help those bruises heal up more quickly. You will be good as new in no time!" encouraged the wizard and helped Legolas up.

"Alright! Mithrandir? Thank you for, well, just thank you!" said the youth awkwardly, clutching the robe close around him once more to reclaim his modesty and his composure.

"Think nothing of it, dear Legolas! When your bath is done, I want you to go back to your room and try to sleep for a bit. I will come and check on you later," Mithrandir smiled as he exited, pulling the door shut as he went, but abruptly stopped and popped his head back around the barrier. " And you must call me Olórin from now on, at least when we are alone together."

"Very well, Olórin," the shy youth murmured as his eyes betrayed his excited joy.

Gandalf smiled and left him then, shutting the door quietly and turning down the hall in the direction of the kitchens. He was fairly certain which Hobbit had been listening in on his tete-a-tete with Legolas, and he felt he needed to set Sam straight on a number of serious issues.

Gandalf sighed as he progressed, both his step and his heart lighter than they had been in many a long year. He was looking forward to the days ahead and made a mental note to thank Elrond for the opportunity to form a bond with the magnificent young archer. The Maia could not keep his grin from expanding as he replayed the events of the last few moments, treasuring the complete trust the elf had shown, relishing the image of Legolas nude, cherishing the feel of his warm, soft skin.

Truly, Legolas had a remarkably fine seat.