Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Of Light and Shadow	By : Avaloyuru Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2299 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any copyright to the Tolkien/Middle-Earth Fandom, nor his canon characters or languages. I do not receive any form of compensation for this fanfiction. Original characters are my property.

Chapter List
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Frowning deeply, Cerályië sat quietly beside the narrow bed listening to Thranduils' strangled whimpers as he rocked himself in a fitful slumber. His beautiful face was twisted in pain, not a physical pain but one of the heart, his mumbled whimpers begging forgiveness.
"Hush now pirá neth nîn, av-'osto." (My little one, don't be afraid). He whispered softly as he gently ran his finger across his forehead. "Av-'osto." (Don't be afraid). He repeated, soothing him as he pulled the nightmare from him, watching the anguish slowly ease from his features. Tears stung the backs of his eyes as he drew them into himself, struggling with the images as he shattered them one by one into nothingness.
"Cerályië!" Dorinäélin exclaimed, his tone stressed with the need to keep his voice low and the concern that radiated from his pale gray eyes.
"I am fine." Cerályië insisted, nearly jerking himself up from the chair.
"You cannot..." Dorinäélin started as he stepped up behind him.
"I know what I'm doing." Cerályië snapped, interrupting him as his blue eyes turned black and flashed angrily as he turned to face him. "I am sorry." He sighed heavily, his gaze flickering about the room for a few moment before settling on the now peacefully sleeping Thranduil.
"I am not taking his memories, just his dreams." He said quietly, smiling as he gently touched Dorinäélins' cheek. "Bring me his breakfast." He added as Dorinäélin seemed to relax a little.
"Ben iest gîn." (As you wish) He nodded as he patted Cerályiës' shoulder comfortingly before turning to do as he was ordered.
"And now for you pirá neth nîn." (My little one) He thought to himself as he walked into the bathing chamber. Collecting a soft cloth from the cupboard, he walked to the small basin and lifted the lever. There was a constant flow of heated water provided through a series of copper pipes from the huge heated copper vats in the kitchen. Thoroughly wetting the cloth, he wrung it out and quickly made his way back to Thranduil's side.
Pulling the covers back, he frowned as he observed his still swollen member thrusting upward. The stickiness of his partially dried arousal fluids was smeared liberally over his lower belly. Sinking back down in the chair, while he knew he would not wake, he cautiously grasped its thickness and began gently stroking him as he studied his sleeping face. He felt his own arousal threaten as Thranduil sighed, his soft pinkish lips parted in response to the pleasuring. Gently drawing the cloth over his lower belly, he carefully cleaned away any signs of his release and covered him again.
Sighing deeply, he rose and returned to the bathing chamber to discard the soiled cloth. Pausing for long moments, he recalled the long centuries he had waited take his revenge on the one who had done the same to him. The one who had broken him, used him and then so callously threw him aside, forever changing him.
"Put it by the settee." He said, glancing briefly at Dorinäélin as he walked back to Thranduil.
"Time to wake up, pirá neth." (Little one) He said softly as he sat down on the bed beside him, tracing the tip of his finger across his forehead. Smiling as he watched his eyelids flutter briefly before his gaze focused on him in a narrowed, distrusting stare.
"Good morning." He greeted him as he leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his unresponsive lips. "Do not mistake my kindness for weakness." He told him quietly, pulling back slightly to meet his challenging gaze evenly for long moments before kissing him again. Smiling to himself, he kissed him deeply as Thranduil reluctantly opened his mouth to him.
"Now let me look at you." He stated as he leaned back, grasping his hip firmly to turn him onto his stomach. Gently examining the areas where the welts had been broken during the whipping, he frowned as he felt him flinch slightly at his touch.
"It is not my intention to damage you." He told him as he turned him onto his back. "We will have our breakfast while I decide what to do with you today." He continued as he retrieved a small key from within the pocket of his outer robe and unlocked the cuffs.
Reluctantly Thranduil allowed himself to be assisted from the bed and followed him to the settee where he saw the breakfast tray on the stand. Without being told, he sank down onto the small stool as the elf made himself comfortable on the softer cushion of the settee. Studying him as the elf began feeding him, he looked for any signs that might reveal something, anything about him but his expression was guarded. He could feel him studying him in return as he continued to hand him small morsels of cheese, fruit, and honey coated cinnamon bread. Again, the elf would touch him, caress his lips, cheeks, and chin as he chewed the food, it was most disconcerting.
"You need to learn self-control." Cerályië said almost absently as he picked up the small teacup and held it down to him for a drink. "You were far too bold in your advances last evening." He told him as he met his gaze from over the rim of the cup.
"You can cooperate with me." He began quietly as he set the teacup back on the tray. "Or I can summon Dorinäélin and Edicûve to assist me." He said, turning to face him again. "I promise you they will not be as concerned for your comfort as I. The choice is yours." He added when Thranduil only stared at him in silence.
"Alright, come with me." He stated as Thranduil only nodded, extending his hand to him as he rose to his feet. "You may find this uncomfortable, but you should feel no pain." He continued as he led him into the bathing chamber.
Thranduil glanced quickly around at the stone walls of the room as they entered, it appeared to have been carved from the bedrock. His elven senses had already told him they were underground, just how far he couldn't tell yet as he had detected a slight flow of fresh air earlier. The dominant feature of the room was the pool of water carved in the floor in the corner that seemed to swirl as if fed by a continuous flow from an unseen source, the moisture in the air told him the water was at least warm.
"Up here." Cerályië told him, patting the stone surface of a carved ledge into the far wall. "There are those who actually find this quite pleasant." He said quietly as he pulled him into his arms when he resisted, forcing him to look at him. "I promise, there will be no pain."
Stiffly, Thranduil allowed him to assist him up onto the ledge even as every part of him wanted to run. Where would he go, he had no idea where he was, he was alone and vulnerable in his nakedness. Closing his eyes he struggled with that urge as the elf positioned him on his back, guiding him down until he felt the edge of the small basin against his backside.
Lifting his knees, Cerályië positioned his feet on the other side of the basin and gently pressed one knee against the wall and held the other to his chest. Dipping his finger into a small pot of thick herbal salve on the shelf, he spread it over the small wrinkled muscle beneath his ball sack. Reaching into the basin, he picked up the narrow lacquered coated bone carved in the form of a nozzle attached to a narrow length of softened leather normally used in the making of water flasks and inserted it into his rear opening.
"Relax." He told him as Thranduil arched and tried to close his legs. "This can be pleasurable if you let it. It is only water." He told him as he slowly lifted the lever to start the flow of water. "I am not hurting you, only cleaning you."
Clenching his teeth, Thranduil glared at him as he felt the warm water filling his most private part. He tightened his muscles against the pressure to no avail as the flow continued to fill him, building an uncomfortable pressure in his bowels and lower belly.
"Let it go." He told him as he removed the bone nozzle.
Turning his face away from him, Thranduil felt nauseous with humiliation as he expelled the water only to feel him insert it again, filling him once more. There was no pain as promised, yet he had never felt so degraded in his life as the process was repeated again and again until the elf was satisfied that he was clean.
"You did very well." Cerályië told him as he pressed the lever down to cut off the water. "Now come, time for a bath."
"What does this have to do with self-control?!" Thranduil asked harshly, struggling with great difficulty to not sound demanding as the elf assisted him down off the ledge.
Turning his face away from him as the elf only glared at him for speaking without permission, he braced himself for some form of punishment that didn't come, at least not at that moment.
"Get into the pool." Cerályië instructed him as he turned him toward it, giving him a slight push toward the single step down into the swirling water. "I will join you in a moment." He said as he began removing his clothing, draping it over a small chair.
Still angry, Thranduil stepped down into the pool and waded out into the middle before turning to watch him, the warm water swirled just above his knees. He was uncomfortably aware that part of his humiliation with what had just happened was because he had been aroused by the feel of it. Looking at the elf now, he felt his arousal growing even more as he stood there gloriously naked in front of him. He was not muscular yet his body appeared well toned and defined as his gaze trailed over him. Against the pale background of the stone walls, he could see an olive glow to his skin, his dark tresses spilled down over his broad shoulders, reaching his narrow hips.
"You like what you see?" Cerályië asked, arching a brow, his lips curling in a sarcastic sort of smile as he stepped gracefully down into the water.
Thranduil felt his throat go dry, unable to speak as he just stood there watching the beautiful elf walk toward him with the aura of a predator approaching his prey.
"Most who look upon me have the same desires as do you." He said quietly as he slipped his arms around him, drawing him into a tight embrace. "I enjoy having what others want but I derive so much more pleasure being what they cannot have." He whispered, his lips brushing Thranduils' as he spoke.
Whimpering under the sudden onslaught of his kiss, Thranduil clung to him as the elf drove his tongue deeply into his mouth. For long moments his kissed him hungrily, ravishing his mouth until he struggled for breath and his jaws ached.
"If your talents last evening are any indication, I know you are more than familiar with what I want from you." Cerályië stated as he walked him backwards to the edge of the pool. Turning him around, he pressed his chest to the floor at the edge of the pool and spread his legs. Grasping his wrists, he drew them back to his hips as he leaned over him.
"Use your hands, spread yourself for me." He whispered seductively in his ear as he guided his hands in place. "I am going to enjoy taking my pleasures of you when, where, and how I choose." He told him as he stood up, running his finger down between the cheeks of his backside as he sank to his knees.
Stiffening as he felt his wrists trapped in the strong vice like grip, Thranduil panicked. Then gasped in surprise as the elf drove his hot tongue into him. Groaning, he gripped his cheeks harder as he pushed back against the tantalizing tongue. Slowly, as he squirmed to press harder against his mouth, he moaned shamelessly as the elf alternated between hard jabbing thrusts and soft teasing strokes as he licked him, it was nothing like anything he had ever felt before.
Smiling to himself, Cerályië continued to pleasure him with his mouth as he rose to his feet. Grasping the shaft of his own erection as he pulled away, he pressed fully into him in one slow motion. Listening as his moans intensified, echoing off the stone walls, he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of his pulsing muscles as he drove himself into him, letting the tension build within him. Sucking his lower lip into his mouth he gripped his hips, grinding himself against him as the momentary weakness of his release washed over him.
Pulling free of him, he wordlessly walked away to collect a small washing cloth from a woven basket at the edge of the pool. Watching him on the edges of his vision as he picked up the bottle of scented soap and poured some of it on the cloth, Cerályië pretended to ignore him for the most part as he lathered and washed himself. Meeting his gaze briefly, he traced the tip of his tongue over his lips as he reached back, drawing the cloth slowly over his own backside. Turning away from him, he picked up a small pitcher, dipping it into the pool, he poured it over himself as he rinsed the soap from his body.
In silence Thranduil had watched him, still trembling from his own release that had shocked him as he had reached that pinnacle without either of them even touching him. He knew the elf was watching him as he took his time lathering himself, turning the simple task of bathing into one of the most sensually arousing displays he had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.
"Come." Cerályië said softly as he discarded the cloth and lathered a second one. "Most of the time I will personally see to your care." He told him as Thranduil came within arm's length of him. "Unfortunately there are occasions when official matters will require my attention and either Dorinäélin or Edicûve will see to your needs." He told him as he drew the soapy cloth across his chest.
"No." He stated, chuckling as Thranduil twisted easily from his soapy grasp to stare at him, a deep frown creasing his brow. "They are not permitted to touch you other than to bathe you." He said as he leaned forward, one hand gently grasping his now soft sex as the other slipped a finger slowly down the crack of his backside to rub teasingly over his rear opening. "This all belongs to me."
"As beautiful and desirable as you are." Thranduil began cautiously, his voice just above a whisper as he gazed into the depths of those dark blue eyes that seemed to pull something from deep within him. "You cannot keep me here."
"I can and I will." Cerályië stated ominously, his expression turning as cold as the stone walls that surrounded them. "In four thousand years, no one has ever entered or left here without my permission."
"Who are you?" Thranduil asked through clenched teeth as the elf grasped a handful of his hair, cruelly twisting his head backward.
"I am either your worst nightmare or your savior, the choice is yours." He stated as he suddenly released him and moved behind him. "Now be silent or I shall be forced to punish you in spite of my desire to do otherwise." He told him as he resumed the task of bathing him.
Smiling to himself, Thranduil fell silent, submitting to an admittedly pleasurable bath. It wasn't much but the elf's confidence in his belief that he would not be able to find a way out told him this was a stronghold of sorts which meant there were far more guards and henchmen than just the three he had seen. Still, it didn't matter, he had no idea where he was, what direction or how far he was from the Woodland Realm. Submitting to the elf's demands, if only to acquire information made more sense at this point.
Unfortunately, his disobedience in speaking without permission and asking questions had created an uneasy silence between them. The elf's expression remained guarded and unreadable as he rinsed him and guided him up out of the pool. His touch remained gentle as he toweled him dry and guided him down into the chair where he had draped his clothing to brush out his hair, even placing a soft kiss on the top of his head before tending to himself. He openly watched him as he quickly ran the brush through his own dark tresses, his nimble fingers hastily weaving its length into a long braid. Thranduil could not help but wonder once more about the elf's past, what tragedy had befallen him that would have filled him with such darkness.
"Self-control can be a difficult task to learn." Cerályië commented without looking at him as he lifted a long silk robe from a peg on the wall. "But I am sure someone such as yourself would agree that it is a necessary quality." He said quietly, smiling almost warmly as he turned to face him, tying the robe loosely about his hips. "Now come."
Frowning as he rose to his feet, Thranduil followed him back into the main room, although it was quite comfortable by all appearances, he realized it was now his prison. In the darkness after the elf had left him, the guard he now knew to be the one he called Edicûve had turned out the large lanterns suspended from the ceiling, leaving much of the room in darkness save for the glow of the fire in the hearth. In the brighter light, his gaze flickered quickly over the carved oaken furniture throughout the room, noting their oddly grotesque shapes and the leather straps that hung loosely from them.
"Sit." The elf instructed him as he paused, placing his hand on the back of a large wooden chair. "It does not bode well for you to make me repeat myself." He stated, patting the back of the chair impatiently.
Frozen in place as he stared at him, it was only when Dorinäélin stepped within view, his hand dropping to the handle of the ever present leather strap at his hip that he found himself moving stiffly toward the elf. His gut twisted painfully as the elf guided him down onto the hard wooden surface of the seat, believing that whatever the elf intended at least it did not appear to be another whipping. Frowning, his mind raced as the elf deftly secured him with straps on his wrists and ankles, his nimble fingers making quick work of the buckles.
Struggling to remain calm, he watched as the elf walked toward a small dresser against the wall. His gaze flickered back and forth between him and the guard as the elf rummaged through the top drawer for a few moments before he found whatever he was looking for. Thranduils' frown deepened as he watched him walk back toward him with a small piece of leather in his hand.
"The bath was more for my personal pleasure." Cerályië said quietly as he reached under the chair to retrieve a low leather covered padded stool and lowered his tall frame onto it. "Now we begin with your lessons in self-control." He told him, holding the piece of leather up where Thranduil could see it more clearly as he looked at it in confusion.
"It is really quite simple." He stated, his tone carrying that slight lilt of humor that Thranduil had quickly learned meant he would not like whatever was about to happen.
Grunting in pain as the elf wrapped the leather around his semi-hard shaft, leaving the crown exposed as he began loosely lacing it closed. Squirming as he felt tiny pricks biting into the sensitive skin only earned him a hard stinging slap on his inner, making him yelp in pain.
"The only way to ease your discomfort is through self-control." Cerályië informed him as he rose to his feet. "The more aroused you become, the more discomfort you will feel."
"You bastard!" He screamed silently, refusing to give in to whatever game he was playing with him. Grasping the arm of the chair, he closed his eyes against the image of him walking away as he struggled to think of anything except for where he was and what was happening to him.
Breathing deeply, Thranduil struggled as he reached deep into his memory, pulling images of the battles he had fought. While it was something he had always tried to avoid at all cost, conflict and even war sometimes proved inevitable no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. As King of the Woodland Realm, he had always sought a more diplomatic approach to conflict, refusing to sacrifice the lives of his people for the senseless greed of others.
"Adar." (Father) He whispered softly to himself as he remembered so clearly the Battle of Dagorlad. So many were the slain that they were buried in a mass grave that was eventually engulfed completely by the Dead Marshes.
"Leave us." Cerályië stated, glancing at his personal servant as they entered his private sitting room.
"Ben iest gîn, hîr vuin." (As you wish, my lord) Nhaéslal stated, bowing respectfully as he glanced curiously at Dorinäélin who only shook his head slightly.
Moving directly to one of the comfortable leather armed chairs in front of the hearth, Cerályië ignored them. He had felt the unvoiced disapproval of a number of his household staff almost immediately after Thranduil had been brought to him. There had been too many of the guards and even number of his soldiers who had recognized him, his face was very recognizable. It would also be impossible not to for anyone who had known or even met his mother, who's face defined beauty. He was the very image of her and more.
"You cannot do this Cerályië." Dorinäélin said quietly as he poured them both a goblet of wine. "It has already taken so much from you." He told him, ignoring the angry glare as he handed him one of the goblets.
"I am fine." He insisted, still glaring at him as he watched him sink down into the comfort of the armed chair opposite him. Rolling his eyes when the guard shook his head at him, he turned his gaze to flames in the hearth.
"We cannot defend against his armies." Dorinäélin stated calmly, studying his longtime friend. "These people have never known war and that is what you will bring upon them if you keep him here."
"I can make him forget." He replied, lowering his gaze somewhat but did not want to look at his friend. "I have waited so long." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Enslaving him will not bring you the peace you seek." The guard stated as he looked down into the dark liquid in his goblet. "It will change nothing."
"How long before we can move?" Cerályië asked, finally lifting his eyes to look at him.
"Not before next spring, moving that distance is not safe in winter." Dorinäélin said frowning deeply. "You cannot possibly be serious!" He exclaimed, meeting his gaze evenly.
"I will consider releasing him then." Cerályië stated, his tone was firm brooking no argument on the matter. "Tell Nhaéslal to inform me when you take the midday meal to him. Now leave me."
"Ben iest gîn." (As you wish) Dorinäélin sighed heavily as he pushed himself up from the chair.
Schooling his expression to one of indifference, Cerályië watched him as he nodded respectfully and departed. His thoughts returning to Thranduil, in truth he had nearly given up on possessing him, it had been so long, so very long. A soft smile touched his lips as he thought of the events of the morning, the sweet taste of his resignation as he cleaned him. Yet he felt a strength in him that made him wonder if he could break him or if he truly wanted to. Normally he felt nothing but disgust or even revulsion when others looked upon him, their leering eyes filled with lust, yet Thranduils' gaze held only desire.
"As beautiful and desirable as you are." Thranduils' words haunted his mind as he remembered the soft look in his eyes as he spoke.
He knew that Dorinäélin had spoken the truth, his small army was more than enough to defend the Keep and the surrounding villages. But they would not withstand a full-fledged assault from a war seasoned army, especially one resolved to rescue their king.
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Of Light and Shadow