The Captive by Glorified

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Chapter 8: Reclamation.

Maglor and Ella are caught up in circumstances outside their control.

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Chapter 8: Reclamation

 

We spent the next few weeks energised by the euphoric haze of hormones, sleep and blissfulness; any where, everywhere, was leverage or position; up against a wall, bent over the low coach, lifted up on the kitchen table, siting astride on the kitchen chairs, the floor, the grass, tipping, bending me over whenever, however. My breasts ached from being suckled and handled and some days we remained in naked exhibition. I would wind myself around him, pulling his firm buttocks into me sucking and kissing his lips, his neck and nipples, until I gorged myself on his beautiful length and he would lift me up around his waist and I would feel his hard erect ardency spreading my centre apart and filling me as he whispered my name, thrusting into my body telling me again and again of his love and passion and loyalty. I felt dissolute, abandoned and freed from every fear or disquiet I ever had.

 

I knew when the Peredhil came again I knew he would know instantly, I knew I would not be able to hide anything from him. Maglor asked leave to visit him, but I reminded him on the terms of his agreement to stay with me meant that his confinement was with in the local vicinity.

 

We were basking in bed one afternoon when the Perehdil came. Maglor had persuaded me after lunch that a siesta was needed, I didn’t need much persuading and before I knew it he had stripped me and was indulging himself when I heard a voice calling, Elrond I thought panicked! I clutched at Maglor holding his head between my legs and mouthed as he looked up at me,

“Not a word”, and deftly got up and pulled my clothes on. I rushed through the door keeping it slightly closed and met Elrond’s quizzical gaze.

 

I rushed to the sink and began gamely talking about his journey and how well he was hoping Maglor would respect my request and keep quite, and that the Peredhil would not see my flushed and harried state. All was in vain when two seconds later Maglor came through the bedroom door naked and walked laughing towards me and pulled me into embrace kissing my neck and twirling me about. I pushed him away and tried vainly to hide his still semi erect and weighty protuberance with a teacloth to which he laughed even more uproariously and said that Elrond had seen it all before and not to worry, before catching me again in his embrace. I gave up any ruse at decorum when I saw Elrond folded in half, tears spilling out of the corner of his eyes joining in with Maglor at my discomposed state.

 

“Oh very funny both of you”, I growled, “Sit down at least” I said to Maglor,

 

I gathered the teacups and put the water onto boil and sat down at the head of table looking at the wood intently when Maglor pulled me off my seat into his lap and began kissing my neck and with his free hand cupping my breast. I squealed and slapped him across his back and head with the tea cloth cognizant of Elrond still laughing at my predicament.

 

When they had both quieted in to a more modicum state I made tea and we talked in a convivial manner with me still on Maglor’s naked lap.

 

Two weeks later to the day our bubble burst. I walked into the kitchen, “Was that post I asked?”,

 

Maglor was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs holding a piece of parchment in his hand with a dazed looked on his face. It stopped me in my tracks,

 

“What is it?” I asked quietly. Surely something calamitous given his countenance.

“An order”,

“What”, I said dumbfounded.

“An order of reclamation”. My brain scrambled to under stand what he was saying it made no sense.

He proffered me the official looking document. It was stamped with the high seal of Finarfin and began with many hearto’s and wherewithal's etc before it.

“I don’t understand Maglor what is it that Finarfin wants from you, does he want money?”.

“No”, he said

“Then who has written this and what does it mean?”,

“It is a claim of restoration and as such can be made by an injured party under Noldarian law. It can be made by friends, colleagues or family”, he said quietly.

“And who exactly is making this claim?” I asked

Maglor looked at me watching me intently as I sat down on the opposite chair.

“My wife”,

“Your wife”, I said, dumbfounded.

He nodded never taking his eyes off me.

“I thought that was dissolved I said, a long time ago, that’s what Elrond told me”,

“As did I. She supposed me dead and given the oath I was as good of to her. She would have started the process of annulment when I had gone to Endore”.

He looked at me pensively, tightened and strung as if to break.

“But what is that she wants exactly?”,

“She wants a restoration of our marriage and its vows”.

I said calmly, “what does that mean?”,

He looked down abashed,

“That we live together again as husband and wife”,

“I see”, I said.

“If a spouse is found again they can begin an accord”,

“An Accord”, I asked,

“The process of reconciliation and restoration. I never thought she would do so, I thought all was long forgotten and dead between us”.

“But why now?”,

He shook his head, “I don’t know ours was not a love match, more a political alliance”.

“A political alliance”, I repeated

“Yes it is normal in the arrangements of a Royal house”….. his voice petered away…

“Oh”, I said.

He stared at me as the seconds ticked by. I studied the kitchen table engrossed in the whorls in the wood, I was surprisingly calm I thought to myself. I got up and walked to the kitchen sink and took the sharp knife that was for fruit and drove into the fleshy part of my palm. Maglor was there in an instance taking the knife from me and wrapping my hand in a tea towel. I felt the release of tears down my cheeks and a conflagration of emotion start to build up inside of me. I could hear his voice as if far away pleading and with me? I suddenly wanted to get away from him anywhere but here with him. I pulled away from him ignoring him and walked to the door. He followed me then suddenly dropped to his knees clutching my legs. He was pleading crying I couldn’t tell you what he said. I tried to push him off me, but he wouldn’t let go.

“You”, I screamed sobbing in great gulping pants, “What am I?, tell me what am I to you”, I entreated again.

“I was just your whore, like they said I was wasn’t I,…. your slut …… you let me open my legs for you it all the time knowing you already bonded to another, ……...all the time making a fool of me, ……….all the time lying, lying lying”.

 

Then all I could hear was my voice screaming obscenities and my voice broken with emotion as I was hitting him on his shoulders,

“No Ella”, he implored, “you know it was never like that!”

“Let go of me”, my voice cracked.

 

He let go and sunk to his knees as I stepped over him and ran out of the house. I ran to the beach, I wondered the shoreline, my feet dribbling in the soft and the ebb and flow of the slow tide, walking carelessly, lost in a reverie of loss and despair, I sank into the incoming tide and relished its swill and ebb encircling my grief stricken state.

 

Later when I came back I found him in the kitchen he had cleaned the floor and all the surfaces and set the table for dinner with cutlery and glasses. I could smell a vegetable stew newly cooked cooling on the side. I saw his face blanched and discomposed, his eyes pensive and hurt red rimmed like my own, he looked like he had been crying. He offered me a glass of wine searching my face for forgiveness.

 

I sat down and accepted the glass and we ate in silence. When after clearing and cleaning the dishes he went to go outside to the his old rooms I said simply, stay and walked to the bedroom. He followed me and stood admonished in front of me his head bowed and his hands clasped together.

 

“Your hand”, he said, “It needs dressing, wait I will get some hot water”.

Up until that moment I had not realised I had still got the kitchen tea towel wrapped around my hand and tied in a knot. He came back with a bowl, steam rising out of it and the smell of clean herbs pervaded the room. He sat next to me on the bed and gently wiped the dried blood away but I winced, up until then my emotions had blocked off the pain but now my hand was beginning to throb.

“Forgive me”, he said as he dressed the cut and bandaged it. “The salve should deaden the pain in a few minutes he added”.

“Thank you” I said quietly, disinterested.

 

We sat next to one awkwardly saying nothing as the second ticked by. I knew he was waiting for me.

“We should get into bed”, he said.

I turned my back to him without saying a word and he started helping me unlacing my gown. He undid the laces and I slipped the gown with its under shift carefully off my shoulders. He hesitated and then gently pulled my gown and shift down over my hips taking care of my injured hand. I stood their in front of him naked, dazed! He he placed my gown on a chair He pulled the bed covers back.

“Shall we get into bed”, he said and then undressed swiftly and got in next to me.

 

As we lay in bed both our moods pensive and troubled I asked.

“What is she like your wife?”. I imagined a tall dark Noldarian beauty with an androgynous figure and sharp chiselled features.

“Don’t ask me to talk of her Ella, please, it is you I love”, Maglor beseeched,

“Tell me”, Maglor I commanded, “tell me, let me know it all”, I said flatly staring at he starlit sky.

“She is beautiful according to Nodarian standards”, he began, “proud, tall, remote”,

“Did you love her?”,

“I,…. I thought I did, but what did I know then of love”.

“And when you….you were together…. was it like it is between us?”,

He turned me towards him and gazed at me, “No Ella, it was perfunctory, sex, duty”,

“You say that but I dare say you got pleasure from it”.

“Yes I admit I did I will not lie to, the marriage bed is there for the succour of the other, and there were other times too”.

“In Endore?”I said.

“Yes”, he said guiltily,

“I know your foster son spoke of them”,

“Did he?”,

“With males?”,

“Yes”.

“Your brother?”

“Yes”,

“What is it like to be with another male?” I asked,

“It is different, warm skin, tender at times, needy and animal like and gratifying at others”.

“Forgive me” I said, “I should not ask”,

“No Ella you have a right to know even though it hurts me to tell you. I wish to hide nothing from you”.

 

He kissed me softly then and I reciprocated when he rubbed and stimulated my sex and nub lightly in the way he knew would pleasure me. When he parted my legs I and entered me I could not refuse, and I sighed feeling the deep satisfaction at having his hardened length inside me, a testament if only for a little while of his desire and need of me and I so needed that affirmation and so did he.

 

When Elrond came he read the letter with his usual adroit reserved countenance, unmoved and stoic, he folded it onto the table and met our stares. “They are asking for restoration not demanding it, you have every right to refuse?”

“But if we refuse?” I asked,

“Then they will demand monetary compensation”,

“How much?”

“That will be debated by Finafin’s court”.

“But it will be substantial and take account of the years lost to your wife in Endore and the loss of status and children, and home”,

“What if we can’t pay”, I asked

“Then you”, he said looking at Maglor will be returned to prison and the key throne away until you return to your former wife and recommence your husbandly duties in full or you pay in full”,

“Bastards I said, bloody bastards they give us no choice”.

“They have us in a double bind”, said Maglor forlornly.

“There maybe a way around this”, said Elrond cryptically.

He looked at his foster father, “you must return, and suppose to give them what they wish, you have not the means to pay and they know this, so therefore you must return and recommence your duties as a husband”.

I cried out and Maglor errupted. “I cannot betray Ella I cannot”.

“Here me out Elrond held up his hand”, there must be a reason she wishes you back, it was no love match after all, I wager she sees to gain some commercial or private gain from this that has nothing to do with the martial bed or love of you. And that is what we must find out! And we can only find it out if you return. You must play her hand at this. You will have to go back.

 

We spend the next week before his return, lost in a haze of hopelessness and desperation. Clinging to one another at night, we became dissolute and desperate in our longing to bond and meld with one another and I who had never thought or considered a child now found myself thinking of that very thing when he entered me, relishing his essence as he spilled it inside of me, desperately clinging to him.