Elei ned Îr Mín

BY : pippychick & TheTV-Junkie
Category: -Multi-Age > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 1251
Disclaimer: We do not own Tolkien's world, Middle Earth, or any of it's characters. We make no money from this work of fanfiction.

Elei ned Îr Mín

 

In Vino Veritas

For centuries now, Thranduil had a habit of getting drunk at the evening feast. He drank wine as if it was water, until he ended up slumped upon his throne. Yet, being as he was the last great ElvenKing of Middle Earth, he never appeared lost or pathetic. Indeed, he kept his arrogant, regal bearing no matter how drunk he became, and to his son, he was an example to follow.

Legolas was this particular night keeping a close watch on his beloved ada, though Thranduil did not know it, and he attempted to match the King with each goblet of wine he consumed. He had the strangest need to emulate and to be worthy of his own father’s attention, yet he failed. Not in the drinking. In that, he at least kept up; but while Thranduil merely became a little more animated and subdued by turns, Legolas became slightly insensible.

He spent the feasts amongst his friends, and they, seeing him drink so freely only encouraged him. They made so much noise around him as they egged him on, Legolas was surprised he hadn’t drawn his father’s attention.

“I drink wine all the time!” Legolas announced blithely, trying to capture the same arrogant attitude as his father, but instead seeming childish and immature to the servants who attended him. To his friends, he was the Prince, and their greatest archer. They only laughed at him and wondered whether he would retire before losing consciousness. Some of them had already drawn lots to see who would help the drunken Prince to bed later on.

“My father the King has some wonderful casks in his private cellar,” Legolas continued, hiccuping.

“Where? Get us some!”

Legolas smiled as all of his friends shouted at once. They coalesced into one resounding chant. “Legolas! Legolas! Legolas!”

“All right then!” he announced, as imperiously as he could, standing up and swaying dangerously on his feet. “I will go and get it. But I must go alone.” At this, there was a resounding groan of dismay, but Legolas would not be convinced. In a small part of him, he resolved that if he were to be caught, it would be much better for his own reputation if he was caught in the act alone.

Picking his way daintily through the feast, he crept past his father’s throne and into the palace, heading for the cellar, where he had indeed been able to filch some of his father’s treasured vintages before. He would decant a couple of bottles and take them back to his table. His friends would be astounded!

Being as it was dark with the one candle, and he was very drunk, Legolas stumbled around in the cellar for a full five minutes, looking for one of the special barrels of wine his father treasured so much. Then, hearing a noise behind him, he snuffed the candle out and dived into the gap between two kegs, hoping whoever it was would leave quickly. Surely it was just a servant come to get more of the ordinary wine served at the feast.

Yet Legolas couldn't have been more wrong in his expectation of a random dutiful servant stocking up on drinks. What the Prince came to hear was a servant indeed, that much was true. However, it was pretty obvious that that Elf's appetites did not run towards the swill that was regularly served to the commoners, nor the fine drop Thranduil saved for nobility.

Oh no, this was the tell-tale demeanour of an Elf, or rather two Elves, getting it on in the secrecy of the vast wine cellar!

Legolas rolled his eyes, listening to the slurred whispers and tipsy giggles that left the servant's lips between hiccups; he was clearly smitten with his silent partner. From his current angle, the Prince could not see the pair though, nor was interested in witnessing their imminent coupling, so he tried to remember which barrel held the secret exit and would allow him to leave without causing an awkward stir.

Silently, Legolas began to crawl towards the next keg when he suddenly hearkened. A shudder ran down his spine as he recognised the deep, baritone tone of voice of his father whispering sweet, filthy nothings to the still giggling servant, identifying the Elvenking as the mysterious lover.

Legolas froze in shock, and prayed his tipsy mind was playing tricks on him.

Suddenly sober, he crept silently closer, hidden in the shadow, until he could peek out to make certain. His heart thundered when he saw his father, a wicked and indulgent smile on his face as he pulled the servant close. For the moment, Legolas could not recall his name… Celebfîn! That was it. He only remembered because he bore an uncanny resemblance to Legolas himself.

Now his father was holding up a blindfold, and Celebfîn sighed. “You never truly want to be with me, do you?” he asked. Legolas was completely mystified. Whatever could he mean? Yet he continued watching, and the scene became even more bizarre as his father allowed Celebfîn to put the blindfold on him.

“Indulge me,” Thranduil said. “As you have done so many times.” He put up his hands to the blindfold. “My loyal servant, Celebfîn, I do appreciate you.” As he finished speaking, he drew the servant forward into a deep kiss. Legolas could see his father’s tongue, wet and thick, plunging deep into Celebfîn’s mouth.

Aran nín,” Celebfîn said, when Thranduil pulled back, his voice hazy with lust and pleasure. It had only been a token protest after all. Legolas began to feel like an intruder now. His curiosity had been satisfied, he should find a way to escape this place before he became a voyeur in truth, and yet… this was his father as Legolas had never seen him, and he found himself breathless as he watched, unable to summon the will to move.

In one sudden movement, Thranduil turned the servant around and bent him over a barrel that was stood on end in the centre of the floor. It was used as a makeshift table, but it was just the right height for Thranduil to roughly pull down the legging and expose Celebfîn’s body, or at least the part that was important.

There was the sudden slap of a palm on bare skin, and Celebfîn cried out, his hands gripping the edge of the barrel tightly, so that the knuckles of his fingers were white. His elbows were jutted out to either side of him, but he did not move away.

“I will take you in front of my entire court,” Thranduil purred. “Perhaps that will teach you a lesson… and your place.”

Celebfîn sobbed as he murmured a hasty assent, and then there was another noise - a kind of wet squelching. Legolas almost gasped out loud, realising his father had produced oil from somewhere and was now… his mind refused to think of it so graphically. Though he knew of it, indeed he had been tutored in the act of love, the practice of it was forbidden to him.

Even though he had come of age, his father had explained the terms of his Princely duties to him in no uncertain terms, one of which was to marry for political purposes when a suitable partner was found. That did not in itself preclude the act of taking a lover, but by the time Legolas came of age, he found his companions in the border guards did not suit his taste. They were all dark elves of the wood, and he found himself wanting elves who resembled his own Sindar heritage. Celebfîn was an elf he had harboured secret fantasies over, which was probably one of the reasons he could not look away.

To think that his father was touching Celebfîn so intimately made him feel hot in the confined space, and his leggings felt restrictively tight. There was another loud slap that made Celebfîn jolt in his place, and Legolas felt the sound in his cock. His father was alternating his touch with that punishment. It was so erotic to the young Prince he almost swooned.

“I want you to imagine them all watching as I ease my lust inside your sweet body,” Thranduil said, and then he made a suggestive move forward which caused Celebfîn to cry out. “You will provide for my pleasure, and their entertainment.”

“Yes, Aran nín,” Celebfîn said, and Legolas left off watching his father to look to the servant. He had the strangest look of rapture on his face as his father fucked him, and then he blinked his eyes open, and they widened when he caught sight of Legolas, hiding between the barrels.

Legolas scurried back, his heart beating so heavily now it almost hurt. He had been careless; seeing his father blindfolded had made him feel safe to observe. He hadn’t even given a thought to Celebfîn being a witness. And yet, Legolas pressed a hand to his own hardness, stifling a groan.

“If they will watch me taking your cock, they will get pleasure from it too,” Celebfîn said, his voice shaking, and Legolas realised he could hear the thrusts Thranduil was giving him.

Slowly, Legolas crept forward again, wide-eyed, his gaze locked on Celebfîn. The servant smiled at him in some kind of terrible, wicked conspiracy.

“Indeed they will,” said Thranduil, clearly getting into the fantasy. “They will touch themselves while you moan and cry out at my treatment of you.” He made his movements deeper and harder, so that Celebfîn did indeed cry out, his eyelashes fluttering as the barrel scraped along the stone floor in little jolts.

As if his father had given him instruction, Legolas began to caress himself, unable to help it at the sight of the scene playing out before his eyes. When he could spare the time, Celebfîn nodded at him, encouraging, promising Thranduil he existed only for pleasure, that he was the King’s slave in this matter, that he wanted nothing else until his end but to satisfy the entire realm.

They were such dirty things, to speak of them out loud! Legolas could not contain a slight indrawn breath of shock and dark pleasure at the thought of Celebfîn taking every cock in the court, one by one, with Thranduil as overseer.

“But perhaps if you please me so well, I will not share you. Only exhibit your obedience to them all as an example to follow. You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Aran nín!”

“I would take you openly in front of visiting elves. Galadriel and Celeborn. Lord Elrond. And you would beg for my cock, wouldn’t you? Like a good slave, well trained and tamed to my desire.”

Thranduil’s words were so sinful, Legolas felt the spell of them keenly, and he knew his own release was near, even though he and Celebfîn watched each other. But then there was a wicked glint in Celebfîn’s eyes, and he threw his head back, exposing the slender column of his throat and adam’s apple.

Ada!” he cried out, when the moment was upon Legolas, and his body reacted as if on cue, breaking and soaring as his own eyes leapt to Thranduil, seeing his father lose it too at the address. Legolas was floored, literally. As the last pulses of his climax slowed he fell bonelessly onto the stone floor. Did his father fantasise of this? He must! Legolas felt dizzy from more than the wine he had consumed, from more than his orgasm, and from more than his witnessing of this scene. His father wanted him - like that! His mind swam.

“Be careful you do not go too far, Celebfîn,” chastised Thranduil. “You are not he, and I do not ask you to impersonate him, only let me imagine what I will as I take you.”

Now hidden again in the shadows, Legolas heard the slick sound of their bodies as Thranduil pulled away, and the rustle of material as he removed the blindfold. “What is this?” he asked in surprise. “You have come already? Usually, I have the pleasure of teasing it from you.”

“I am sorry, Aran nín,” Celebfîn said. “But the fantasy was so compelling, and your cock felt so good, I could not help it.”

Legolas stayed in his place, hardly daring to breathe, move, or even think. They wandered out, speaking in low murmurs to each other, and still Legolas remained motionless and silent. How could he go back to the feast and face his father now? How could he look at Celebfîn?

Eventually, Legolas left the cellar too, finding a servant - not Celebfîn - to make his excuses to his friends while he fled to his room. He made his usual preparations for bed, but when all was done he laid there wakeful until the early hours of morning, pondering on what he had seen, and heard. Eventually he fell into reverie, but his dreams were no more forgiving than his observation earlier. In fact, his dreams were worse, seeing as he and Celebfîn had somehow exchanged places in them....

 

 

To be continued…

 

 

Authors’ Note: Thank you for reading, we hope you’re enjoying it. Comments and kudos will be cherished!

 

 

Translations:

Aran nín - my King

Ada - Dad/Daddy

Elei ned Îr Mín - Our Dreams of Sexual Desire



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