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A night of fulfilled desires	By : sevenofmine Category: +Third Age > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 4742 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor the characters from it. I do not make money from writing this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 1
When Lord Elrond looked up, he could not process what he saw. He could not identify single individuals, and the colours around him blurred into smear that resembled the paintings of when his sons had been young and played with the colours that they had found in Lindir’s study. After a few seconds, his eyes recognised the shape of Orc bodies in various stages of grey with splashes of red blood wetting their skin and the grass on which they lay. To his dismay, he now realised how many of his own kind were among the dead.
He started counting when he walked the battle field, stepping over bodies and lose body parts, avoided treading in the bigger puddles of blood. It was a futile endeavour as his shoes and his robe were soaked in the red liquid already.
“The enemy is dead,” Glorfindel confirmed loudly, as if the piles of orc flesh were not indication enough.
“And so are many of our people,” remarked Elrond, though in a rather low voice. He sighed deeply. So much sorrow they would have to bring to Mirkwood. He lifted his head and looked around for the elves who had survived the battle. There were many he knew and was befriended with, but there was also a fair share of woodland elves who were helping the wounded by treating their injuries and supporting them if they were too weak to walk. It made Elrond proud – although he would never admit it in the presence of the Elven-king – that both the Elves from Mirkwood and Imladris were assisting each other, regardless of their origin or colour of hair. Maybe need fuses together even the greatest adversaries, he thought and remembered his own venture regarding the befriending – and more – of a Mirkwood resident.
Slowly, the elves had stabilised everyone to make their way back into the forest. Most of the horses had either been slain or run away, so that one elf was sent on the fastest horse to overbring the news of the won battle. Won, Elrond thought and felt repelled by this word. With so many dead, we can hardly call this battle won. Just ask the children and parents, the partners and siblings of those who had left their lives in the duty of protection of our people. Apart from the messenger, the rest of the horses were used to carry the most severely wounded, but even without those who could barely walk, they had lost their motivation to advance quickly. Elrond himself felt comfortable with their steady pace. It gave him more time to think before he had to answer for the outcome of the fight before Thranduil himself.
The sun was setting when they arrived at the big, wooden gates. It was a wonder how light shone into the forest after all since the canopy layer was so thick. He felt strange when entering the foreign realm, but it might have just been the effect of the minor harms his body graced. The injured elves were taken to the healers, and Elrond noticed a light brown-haired guard who looked at him and nodded towards the king’s room. He had feared that he would have to attend to this uneasy dialogue immediately. Two more guards were stationed on each side of the door, opening it for him. The heavy wings swung open, and there he could see the Elven-king full of grace and elegance, full of arrogance and haughtiness.
Elrond advanced until he stood on the stony platform in front of the stairs that let to Thranduil’s throne. The elf had not moved since Elrond had entered the room. Not even a strand of his perfectly aligned blonde hair had changed its place.
“Tell me of our casualties,” he demanded.
Elrond swallowed hard. Thranduil did not even ask whether they had successfully slain the orc army, he just assumed it.
“Many of us have been killed, many of us have been wounded,” he answered with a dry mouth.
Now, Thranduil bothered to stand up and paced the staircase down with a confidence that made Elrond wonder whether he practiced this descend whenever no one was watching. The tall, blonde elf stopped less than twenty centimetres before him.
“You have been injured, too,” he said and touched Elrond’s chin with his long, spindly fingers.
“Only minorly,” Elrond admitted. He hated that Thranduil looked down on him for that, but he swore that even the Elven-king himself could not have come out of this battle without the tiniest mark.
“Tis but a scratch,” Thranduil muttered and turned around quickly. His hair swirled but came to a halt as perfectly sitting as ever. He reclimbed to his throne but stopped midway. “My son’s battalion encountered several Nazgûl burning a settlement of Woodmen. They have cast them out of my realm.”
As that was all that Thranduil had to say on this topic, Elrond left without casting a second eye on the mighty king having taken seat on his enormous throne. He must be compensating for something, Elrond thought as the doors closed again behind him.
It was getting late, and the elves who had returned from the battle were swarming towards the dining hall. Elrond did not feel much hunger, he rather wanted to take a soothing bath. Not only would it be warm and clean, he could also relax and review the events of the day from a wiser perspective.
He had been accommodated in a private room unlike his fellow soldiers from Imladris who had to share a room with four or six. But he was a Lord, and even though Thranduil did look down on him, he did allow him one or another privilege. He gave his Mirkwood servant the rest of the evening off so that he would be able to join the common dinner. Elrond started the fire to heat the water himself and waited patiently to ensure that the water flowing into the white bathtub was of a pleasant temperature.
His bathroom was round, supported by columns that were decorated with wooden leaves. The bathtub stood in the middle, elegantly, and Elrond dropped his heavy armour on the floor. He regarded his body and noticed how many scratches there were, glistering redly in the shimmering light of the torches at the walls. He stepped into the water, twitching because of the heat. But once he had immersed his whole body in the transparent liquid, he moaned in relaxation. The burden of the entire day dissolved in the water with the fine streaks of blood that came off his body. The water was shimmering in a dark yellow-ochre, now intercepted by brownish-red streams.
He had just closed his eyes when he heard the door creaking open. He was alert at once, but the silhouette that stood in the entry was one that Elrond was too familiar with already.
“I missed you at dinner,” the young, blonde elf said and entered the bathroom without even asking for permission. He closed the door silently behind him.
“I was not hungry,” Elrond murmured, slightly annoyed by his alone-time being disturbed. He was less annoyed by the fact that Legolas was obviously staring at his unclothed body that lay in the bath tub like food on a platter.
“I was hungry,” Legolas responded, now standing at the side of the tub, casting a dark shadow on the water. “Hungry for you,” he added and bend down to Elrond’s face. His blond hair was touching the Lord’s chest.
“Your father said that your defence of the Woodmen against the Nazgûl was victorious,” Elrond said while regarding the youngling’s tasty lips.
“He was exaggerating, that’s for sure,” Legolas said and inhaled deeply. He liked the smell of battle, of blood and sweat, especially when it was coming from Elrond. Before he came closer to finally give him a kiss, Legolas stood up and started undoing his belt.
Elrond leaned his head against the bathtub’s edge and observed him attentively. He enjoyed the deliberately slow removal of Legolas’ clothes and could not contain a silent moan when the blonde elf finally stood there, his bare body illuminated in the torches’ light.
He did not need to invite him, but Legolas already stepped carefully into the tub. When his round derrière touched Elrond’s pelvis, the water level rose dangerously close to the tub’s edge. He leaned forward and his hair tips were becoming wet and dark.
“Your body marks a vicious battle,” Legolas said, and his fingers glided over the many wounds that decorated Elrond’s beautiful body.
“I survived,” Elrond whispered and rose towards Legolas’ face in anticipation. The young elf finally gave in and pressed his soft lips against the experienced ones from Elrond. Their kiss was long and deep, and he could feel the Lord’s tongue making his way towards his throat. His mouth was dry, and he ached for a complete devotion to his lust. He began to feel Elrond’s wet hands on his back, sliding along the skin, reaching his neck. He rested his own hands on Elrond’s manly chest.
He had not expected yet to feel Elrond’s wood strive his rear. He laughed and sat up. “You are needy,” he remarked with a boyish smile on his face.
“It has been centuries since I last time felt such lust. I have no idea how I could live the past decades without using my body for myself. It was only when I met you that my desire came back,” he explained himself while Legolas started to dance his backside around Elrond’s stiff penis, brushing it gently. Such small movements were enough to make Elrond lean back and breath deeply with his mouth open.
“You are too easy to please, my Lord” Legolas noted. “You have so much experience but have neglected to use it for too long.” He now sat down on Elrond’s thigh. His hands now firmly gripped the erect penis and strove his hand around it in turns. Elrond was no longer able to speak. Only gasps of arousal and pleasure left his mouth. It did not take long for the white, in this light silver-looking semen to leave his phallus and disperse in the blood-water. Legolas smiled in satisfaction and lay his body onto Elrond’s, immersing himself in the mixture of different liquids. He lay his head on Elrond’s chest and enjoyed the moment of togetherness.
The water started to get cold, but Elrond did not mind. He loved to feel Legolas’ calm and regular breath on his chest that heaved and lowered in nearly the same rhythm. The lower part of his blonde hair was wet and the upper part dry, which he felt slightly moving on his skin. He put his arms around the Legolas’ upper body. He looked so peaceful. So innocent. So pure. Elrond could not remember when he had been so young. But Legolas managed to make him feel as if he were young and lustful again. He brought all these memories back, all these yearnings, desire, wishes.
“Now, let it be my turn to please you,” he whispered into Legolas’ ear. The blonde elf rose slowly, looking at Elrond like a dog begging for a bone. “Lean back,” Elrond said, and Legolas did as he was told. Elrond sat up now as well and bend his legs to sit on his heels. The water stirred and became rough. Though they had so far managed to not spill anything over the edge. Elrond’s hair which had until now hung outside the bathtub were now only centimetres above the water surface. Legolas admired the two braids which hung in front of Elrond’s chest. The Lord bent over Legolas is if to intimidate him.
“Does your father know about us?” he asked.
Legolas shook his head in surprise.
“Would he approve of us?” Elrond asked in a voice that a master would use if a blunt mistake of his apprentice had come to his attention.
Legolas realised where this was going and shook his head again. He maintained eye contact and responded, “he would never allow us to be together.”
“Then you are acting against your father’s wishes. You are doing explicitly what you know he would never support,” Elrond continued in his lecturing voice. He could feel how Legolas was aroused by the thought of doing something that his father forbad. “You are very naughty, Legolas,” he bent forward and whispered into his ear.
“Naughty elves need to be punished,” Legolas’ voice had become croaky in anticipation. His breath had increased, all of which Elrond noticed and played in his advantage.
“And how shall I punish you?” Elrond asked and touched Legolas’ sleek face. His fingers wandered over his cheek and chin, they reached his mouth and stroke his lips. They were so small, he was feeling his breath on his skin. He bent closer as if he were to kiss him, but he halted a hand’s width in front of him. His pointing and middle finger now slid into Legolas mouth which he started sucking on. As soon as Legolas seemed to enjoy himself, Elrond withdrew his fingers, leaving Legolas with the feeling of desire. He looked at him with needy eyes.
Elrond smiled at his little victory. He looked down and saw that he had indeed been successful in getting a reaction from the woodland elf. He took his own penis to play with the tip of Legolas’. “Talking about easy to please,” he said cheekily.
“I need to merely cast a glance on you and am put into a state of delight,” Legolas said with difficulty while panting heavily.
“You are very delighted,” Elrond found and started widening his behind with his fingers.
“Let me assist you,” Legolas said and grabbed Elrond at his pelvis to move him closer.
He entered with his index finger to which Elrond replied, “more.”
Legolas shoved his middle and ring finger in with force. Elrond gave a short shriek, followed by a pleasant moan. When Legolas’ fingers slid out, the Elf-Lord wasted no time to force his butt cheeks down on Legolas’ stiff penis. Legolas was not prepared for the quickness with which Elrond operated and gave a pleasant outbreath.
“Do you like that?” Elrond asked when he moved his pelvis up and down. Legolas did nothing but nod, to which Elrond briskly replied, “you were, however, supposed to be punished,” and smacked the outside of his hand against the beautiful face of the blonde elf. Legolas gasped in surprise and pain, as this was what he had last expected. He gazed at Elrond in utter astonishment. His eyes first showed confusion, then pleasure, then they begged for more.
“I have been very, very bad,” Legolas said. “I have been laying with an elf from Imladris, and I have entered him deep and enjoyed him. I have been playing with him and I have brought out a lust in him that had been buried for centuries.” While Legolas was confessing his sins in a voice one would use towards a priest, Elrond kept hitting his left cheek until it had turned red. Satisfied with the result, and not stopping with the steady up and down movement of his lower body, he leaned forward and licked Legolas’ swollen cheek. He felt his breath in his ear, it was loud and irregular. Elrond now forced himself to increase the pace, and the water started to clash higher to the edge of the bathtub. When the waves had finally reached an amplitude that was too high to be contained and the water splashed onto the floor, so did Legolas in Elrond. For a second, he stopped breathing, and then released the air all at once, as he was releasing himself.
They remained motionless for a few moments before Elrond exited him. He leaned against the other side of the tub and regarded Legolas. He was so young, so pure but yet so impure. He was needy and brought out the same in him. He had helped him remember movements and positions that Elrond had not made in centuries, and Elrond had taught Legolas secrets he would have never dreamed of. Right now, he felt how they completed each other for the strive for perfect pleasure.
Elrond would have loved to linger in that state of sexual satisfaction, but it was abruptly disturbed by the loud thud of the opening wood doors. His head spun around, and he would have nearly yelled at the sight of a dark silhouette in the corridor, unmistakably the Elven-king himself, wearing his grand crown and flowing robe.
He strode forward with a hasty pace, the doors falling shut behind him. He stepped into the light of the torch, regarding from above the two naked elves sitting opposite to each other in the dirty bath water.
“What is this?” he demanded in a firm, nearly trembling voice.
Neither Elrond nor Legolas dared to respond. Thranduil’s aqua-coloured eyes fixated on those chestnut brown eyes of the half-elf.
“It was me, Ada,” Legolas suddenly found his voice. “I seduced Lord Elrond.”
“Do you also call him Lord Elrond when you are inside him?” Thranduil asked with an indifferent voice that Elrond could not allocate on the mood ladder.
“Actually, he called me ‘my Lord’ today,” Elrond said boldly. Thranduil’s eyes returned to him. He was lost in the sea of his blue eyes that seemed to pierce through every place of his skin. He looked away and to Legolas for help, but the young elf was simply staring at his father with a face that did not allow any speculation about whether he was scared of the consequences or willing to defy any punishment.
“He might be my lord, but you are my king,” Legolas replied with a soft voice that sounded not only submissive but also alluring.
“Is that so?” Thranduil’s fierce stare now landed on his son again. He walked forward until he stood in front of the tub and in front of Legolas’ head very closely. Legolas did not lower his head in shame but in surprise to Elrond he looked up and met the glance of his father.
He definitely has his eyes, Elrond thought in that moment.
“He was in you today?” Thranduil suddenly asked and his head graciously turned to Elrond. His voice was snarling and arrogant as always.
Elrond nodded.
“Your arse is roughened and hurting?”
Elrond nodded again.
Without taking sight from him, Thranduil threw his elegant robe on the floor. He undid his belt and opened his tunic. One by one, all layers of his stylish clothes landed on the ground until he stood there as naked as were his son and Elrond.
“Then I will rough and hurt it even more,” Thranduil decided.
Elrond could not believe what he was hearing. He would not have taken the king seriously if it had not been for Legolas’ boyish smile.
“Get out of the tub and turn around,” Thranduil demanded in all seriousness and with the same voice he would send a clan of elves into the dungeons or command a legion of his own into battle.
Elrond did as he was told. He stood up slowly from the water and climbed out of the bathtub. The brownish liquid dripped onto the floor. He turned towards the bathtub and lowered his back, positioned his arms in support onto the bathtub edge. He felt Thranduil’s hand pull his thighs apart. He did not anticipate how fast Thranduil had gotten an erection and was able to shove himself into Elrond. But now he felt him deeper inside him than Legolas had ever been. Had he been sleeping with the wrong elf of the noble line? Elrond had no time to think as Thranduil worked in him mercilessly fast and hard, pushing him again and again. Thranduil’s hands were clutching Elrond’s waist firmly and moved him along to his own rhythm.
“Will you assist me, ion?” Thranduil asked, and it was obvious that Legolas was used to fulfilling such requests. Still immersed in the water, Legolas moved forward to position himself in front of Elrond. The elf lord was already panting. The pain in his behind was as pleasurable as was the king’s tight grip on his body. Now, Legolas kneeled upright to meet Elrond’s glance and see the perspiration on his face. He licked it off and then gave Elrond a tongue kiss to make him taste his own sweat.
Legolas then proceeded to part Elrond’s hair into two and pulled it down. Elrond was not expecting such force and gave in farer than he would have wanted. He heard Thranduil laugh behind him. His movements were becoming faster and faster. Blood was pumping into Elrond’s face and his breath became synchronised with the bumping of Thranduil’s balls against the bottom cheeks.
Suddenly, Thranduil penis entered harder and further, and he stayed longer in. Elrond felt the pulsation and his release. He moaned and heard how Thranduil exhaled deeply. The movement had stopped and Thranduil enjoyed staying inside Elrond. Legolas smoothened Elrond’s hair and gave him a kiss on his nose. After a while, Thranduil pulled his penis halfway out, shook it a bit, and then pulled out completely. Elrond felt an immense relieve and sacked onto his knees.
Legolas stepped out of the bathtub now as well and patted Elrond’s head. The lord did not look up, he was too busy breathing deeply. Thranduil offered his hand which Legolas elegantly took. They now stood chest to chest and Legolas looked up into his father’s face. Not a single muscle twitched in the icy cold face.
“I have taught my son well, haven’t I, Elrond?” Thranduil now said aloud but did not look away from the blue eyes of his son.
“I certainly know where he learnt from,” Elrond admitted and turned around. He sat down on the stone floor and leaned against the bathtub. His heart was still pumping heavily and his chest, wet from water and sweat, heaved and lowered regularly. He looked up to Thranduil and Legolas who seemed to be sunken into a staring contest. Then, Thranduil proceeded very slowly to touch his son’s chin with his long fingers and bent down to press his lips on Legolas’. What followed was a long and passionate kiss which had been practiced and perfected for centuries. Elrond could not help but feel turned on by the view. He was still aroused by the work that Thranduil had performed in him, so his penis erected without any help. While Thranduil and Legolas were still engaged in tongue play, Elrond started to work on himself.
When Thranduil and Legolas had finished, they kneed down beside him. “Legolas, would you do him the honour?” Thranduil asked and Legolas bent down obediently. Elrond stopped the play of his hands and let the young blonde elf take over. He used only his lips, and Elrond was every time surprised by how skilled they were. At first, Legolas licked around the glans before he started to suck.
“Play with your tongue,” Thranduil instructed him and Elrond could immediately feel the tongue joyfully gliding around the corona of his glans.
“Yes,” he moaned and closed his eyes.
“I was the first my son has practiced on,” Thranduil informed him and kissed the lord. Elrond had not foreseen the softness of the king’s lips. Neither had he ever imagined to be attracted to him. He opened his eyes and stared into the same sea of blue eyes that Legolas possessed. Thranduil’s skin was fair and clean and perfect. His lips were small, but they engulfed Elrond’s lips completely. Elrond responded the kiss and quickly lost himself in the king’s skilled mouth while Legolas kept working on his penis.
Elrond wanted to linger on and not give in to the moment, but there came the time he could not hold back any longer. He discharged and Legolas drank it all. Thranduil sat up on his knees again, and Legolas bent over to kiss him and share the semen. Thranduil lustfully licked out Legolas’ mouth to get all of Elrond’s juice.
“You are tasty, Lord Elrond,” he commented. “I see why my son has chosen you.” He caressed Legolas’ hair. “But now we should go to the feast. The people are expecting my return, as well as his son, and your elves will need a strong leader like you.” Elrond was surprised to hear a compliment like this from the vainest of all elves in Mirkwood. “And once we have done our duty presence, we may continue in my private room.”
As this is my first LOTR story, please review :)
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A night of fulfilled desires