Control
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
15
Views:
4,487
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
15
Views:
4,487
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Ten
Title: Control
Series: Entropy
Chapter: Ten
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Contact: soultornasunder@gmail.com
Website: http://www.hithanaur.net/
Update List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nairn_orchyd/
Fandom: LOTR
Archive: OEAM
Feedback: Yes! Always!
Disclaimer: We do not own LotR or any characters, lands, or items from the Tolkien world. They belong to their respective copyright holders.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 774
Beta: Alex
Cast: Thranduil/Erestor, Thranduil/Elrohir, Gildor/OMC, Haldir/Lothvaen, Cilith(OMC)/Anion(OMC)
Summary: Mirkwood becomes the board for two Elves who are ruthless in their game.
Note: This is a challenge to myself. I wished to write a series of fiction in which the chapters never exceeded 1,000 words, yet were no less than 300 words. The first story in this series, 'Control', is based off of a 1992 chess game between Stephen Boyd and Torbjorn Glimbrant. Each chapter is a move and a countermove. Thranduil represents white, Erestor black. I hope everyone enjoys it.
---
Queen's Pawn to Queen 4 - King's Rook's Pawn to King's Rook 3
His neck ached as he made his way back to his room. Erestor had spent most his day locked inside a meeting room, bent oddly over the shoulder of one of Thranduil's tacticians, staring down at a map of boundaries. It baffled him how Thranduil managed to keep his own realm's borders straight, but he had been assured the Elvenking knew his home better than any. Reluctantly, Erestor had to admit he'd been impressed.
He opened the door to his room and immediately knew it wasn't empty. Sprawled across his bed was Thranduil, dressed in simple trousers and shirt. Erestor had to admit the emerald of the shirt complimented Thranduil's colouring perfectly. He ignored Thranduil, going to his wardrobe and removing his formal robes, hanging them carefully on the pegs inside. After closing the doors, he began to remove the plaits from his dark hair, his grey gaze finally acknowledging Thranduil's presence as his hair fell free from the clips. "Can I be of service, Sire?" he asked, his tone as neutral as he could make it.
Thranduil rose from the bed like a living sunbeam, hair wild and eyes bright as the summer sky. "I have a problem that I believe your skilled, tactical mind can assist me with," he purred.
Erestor barely controlled the urge to roll his eyes as he crossed his arms. His exasperation was clear in his biting tone. "The whole of my military experience lies at your command."
"The enemy has ensconced himself behind his tower walls." Thranduil slowly crossed from the bed to Erestor, each movement of the well-honed body meant to tempt. "I lay siege to the tower, but it seems he can withstand my attack for quite some time. How do I breach the walls and claim victory?"
"The obvious strategy, Sire, would be to storm the tower, but surely your enemy will anticipate such a bold move," Erestor replied smoothly.
Thranduil nodded, his brow furrowed. "Indeed. The tower has many arrow blinds that strike at me whenever I come near."
Erestor lifted his chin defiantly. "And no doubt all sides are guarded without respite."
"Quite so." Thranduil's voice dropped in pitch, a small smile curving his lips as his journey from the bed finally ended just inches from Erestor. "And yet, the treasure within cannot simply be left unclaimed."
"I cannot help you, King Thranduil; it seems an intractable position." Erestor disliked having Thranduil so close, the heat and scent of the king tugging at something dormant within him. "You should admit defeat and retreat."
"No fortress is impenetrable. One need only find the smallest chink." Thranduil dipped his head down swiftly, claiming Erestor's lips in a brief, intense kiss. After their lips parted, he stepped back as if the kiss had not occurred. "Thank you, Lord Erestor. Your input has been most helpful."
Erestor watched Thranduil leave his room, and only when he was alone did heat rise to his cheeks. His lips tingled, and he could still taste the honey-and-wine sweetness of Thranduil on his tongue. Growling, Erestor continued to undress and prepare for bed.
***
The problem Erestor had with Thranduil's caves was the fact that they were *caves*. There were courtyards one could access and feel the sun safely on their face, but, for the most part, sunlight did not penetrate into the gloom of the Elvenking's halls. Time became surreal, and Erestor sometimes wondered if it were truly day, or if the night still lingered.
As he walked down one of the winding halls contemplating how any Elf could enjoy residing in such accommodations, Hebron rushed up to meet him. Thranduil's Chief Adviser, according to Elrohir, had been trying to speak with him for the better part of the week.
"Lord Erestor!" Hebron panted, stopping a respectable distance from the Noldor. "I have a message from King Thranduil."
Anger, hot and consuming, rose in Erestor as he remembered the previous night's meeting, and he glared at Hebron. "I have heard quite enough from King Thranduil. In fact, I have a message for you to deliver to *him*."
Hebron managed to somehow contain his groan, but he desperately wished to smack his head into the wall. This was ridiculous!
"It is out of respect for my Lord and Lady that I have shown deference and aplomb," Erestor snarled. "But, should I find him in my quarters again uninvited, I am like to forget he is king of this realm and believe him to be nothing more than a thief, and shall act accordingly." Without waiting for a reply, Erestor shoved past Hebron, his mood as dark as the caves themselves.
TBC...
Series: Entropy
Chapter: Ten
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Contact: soultornasunder@gmail.com
Website: http://www.hithanaur.net/
Update List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nairn_orchyd/
Fandom: LOTR
Archive: OEAM
Feedback: Yes! Always!
Disclaimer: We do not own LotR or any characters, lands, or items from the Tolkien world. They belong to their respective copyright holders.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 774
Beta: Alex
Cast: Thranduil/Erestor, Thranduil/Elrohir, Gildor/OMC, Haldir/Lothvaen, Cilith(OMC)/Anion(OMC)
Summary: Mirkwood becomes the board for two Elves who are ruthless in their game.
Note: This is a challenge to myself. I wished to write a series of fiction in which the chapters never exceeded 1,000 words, yet were no less than 300 words. The first story in this series, 'Control', is based off of a 1992 chess game between Stephen Boyd and Torbjorn Glimbrant. Each chapter is a move and a countermove. Thranduil represents white, Erestor black. I hope everyone enjoys it.
---
Queen's Pawn to Queen 4 - King's Rook's Pawn to King's Rook 3
His neck ached as he made his way back to his room. Erestor had spent most his day locked inside a meeting room, bent oddly over the shoulder of one of Thranduil's tacticians, staring down at a map of boundaries. It baffled him how Thranduil managed to keep his own realm's borders straight, but he had been assured the Elvenking knew his home better than any. Reluctantly, Erestor had to admit he'd been impressed.
He opened the door to his room and immediately knew it wasn't empty. Sprawled across his bed was Thranduil, dressed in simple trousers and shirt. Erestor had to admit the emerald of the shirt complimented Thranduil's colouring perfectly. He ignored Thranduil, going to his wardrobe and removing his formal robes, hanging them carefully on the pegs inside. After closing the doors, he began to remove the plaits from his dark hair, his grey gaze finally acknowledging Thranduil's presence as his hair fell free from the clips. "Can I be of service, Sire?" he asked, his tone as neutral as he could make it.
Thranduil rose from the bed like a living sunbeam, hair wild and eyes bright as the summer sky. "I have a problem that I believe your skilled, tactical mind can assist me with," he purred.
Erestor barely controlled the urge to roll his eyes as he crossed his arms. His exasperation was clear in his biting tone. "The whole of my military experience lies at your command."
"The enemy has ensconced himself behind his tower walls." Thranduil slowly crossed from the bed to Erestor, each movement of the well-honed body meant to tempt. "I lay siege to the tower, but it seems he can withstand my attack for quite some time. How do I breach the walls and claim victory?"
"The obvious strategy, Sire, would be to storm the tower, but surely your enemy will anticipate such a bold move," Erestor replied smoothly.
Thranduil nodded, his brow furrowed. "Indeed. The tower has many arrow blinds that strike at me whenever I come near."
Erestor lifted his chin defiantly. "And no doubt all sides are guarded without respite."
"Quite so." Thranduil's voice dropped in pitch, a small smile curving his lips as his journey from the bed finally ended just inches from Erestor. "And yet, the treasure within cannot simply be left unclaimed."
"I cannot help you, King Thranduil; it seems an intractable position." Erestor disliked having Thranduil so close, the heat and scent of the king tugging at something dormant within him. "You should admit defeat and retreat."
"No fortress is impenetrable. One need only find the smallest chink." Thranduil dipped his head down swiftly, claiming Erestor's lips in a brief, intense kiss. After their lips parted, he stepped back as if the kiss had not occurred. "Thank you, Lord Erestor. Your input has been most helpful."
Erestor watched Thranduil leave his room, and only when he was alone did heat rise to his cheeks. His lips tingled, and he could still taste the honey-and-wine sweetness of Thranduil on his tongue. Growling, Erestor continued to undress and prepare for bed.
***
The problem Erestor had with Thranduil's caves was the fact that they were *caves*. There were courtyards one could access and feel the sun safely on their face, but, for the most part, sunlight did not penetrate into the gloom of the Elvenking's halls. Time became surreal, and Erestor sometimes wondered if it were truly day, or if the night still lingered.
As he walked down one of the winding halls contemplating how any Elf could enjoy residing in such accommodations, Hebron rushed up to meet him. Thranduil's Chief Adviser, according to Elrohir, had been trying to speak with him for the better part of the week.
"Lord Erestor!" Hebron panted, stopping a respectable distance from the Noldor. "I have a message from King Thranduil."
Anger, hot and consuming, rose in Erestor as he remembered the previous night's meeting, and he glared at Hebron. "I have heard quite enough from King Thranduil. In fact, I have a message for you to deliver to *him*."
Hebron managed to somehow contain his groan, but he desperately wished to smack his head into the wall. This was ridiculous!
"It is out of respect for my Lord and Lady that I have shown deference and aplomb," Erestor snarled. "But, should I find him in my quarters again uninvited, I am like to forget he is king of this realm and believe him to be nothing more than a thief, and shall act accordingly." Without waiting for a reply, Erestor shoved past Hebron, his mood as dark as the caves themselves.
TBC...