Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Faladar	By : TheTVJunkie Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Hobbit, The Views: 6737 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Hobbit' or anything related to it. No copyright infringement intended. There's no money made of this story; all my works are written for entertainment purpose only!

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Summary:

Legolas' corruption continues very effectively, new desires stirred inside the young, impressionable prince when he witnesses Thranduil venting his sadistic streak on an insubordinate servant.
Introduction of the footmen OCs Gelias and Maeral.

☙✨♛✨❧
Thranduil could only doze a little until morning came, with Legolas' words circling his mind. When he finally opened his eyes he tried rolling aside, thinking himself in bed as usual. But there was something sticking him like glue to his son, and a pleasant warmth all throughout his body.
"Legolas...?" he murmured, blinking sleepily. There lay Legolas beneath him, hair a mess just like his own. Nude.
'It was not a dream... He really did accept it.' Thranduil thought of how he'd desperately needed Legolas to ease his frustrations and now checked to see they were still there, albeit less intrusive than they had been. 'What has happened to me...? My body... seems wired for his touch.' Thranduil pressed a soft kiss to Legolas' neck, breathing in deeply. Ah, there was that familiar scent. Nice and sweet. Then there was the overpowering smell of heated sex, a reminder of last night. The couch was destroyed. No amount of cleaning could save it.
'We can't stay like this. A hot bath is in order. And perhaps a few hours worth of scrubbing.' He bit Legolas just beneath his ear to wake him. "Legolas. Get up."
"Hmmm." Legolas grunted dozily, evenly trying to roll to the side but to no avail. A heavy weight rested pleasantly upon his lean frame, providing the sleepy prince with a comfortable warmth and softness, much like a blanket.
'Yet somewhat more alive?' The back of his mind slowly seemed to register little by little. Blankets didn't move of their own volition, now did they? Legolas heard a familiar voice somewhere nearby, urging him to do something but the young prince was still too attached to dreamland to comprehend the words properly. It indeed needed his father's playful bite to make Legolas open at least one eye drowsily.
"Ouch! My heeeeead!" He whined instantly, not due to the bite but from experiencing the first real hangover of his immortal life hitting him without mercy. The prince carefully rubbed his temples, gradually becoming aware of his surroundings. The odd stickiness that clung to him. His dry throat. That terrible headache. And the fact, that his Ada was lying atop of him in unmistakable pose, hair all tousled and smiling smugly down at him.
"Ummmm..." Legolas drawled, raising a brow as he was trying to decipher yesterday's events in more detail. He could vaguely recall their illicit doings, some memories clearer than others but what he could recall for sure were the emotions that went along with their shared deeds. Emotions, he was more than willing to experience again, no matter what. Guilt be damned, now that the genie was out of the bottle anyway.
"Good morning, Ada?!" The prince said a little helpless, a sheepish flush creeping over his cheeks.
"Good morning. Forgive me for waking you..." Thranduil observed the reddening of Legolas' face, finding it to be a rather sweet look upon him. There he lay, filthy and gorgeous with the memory of last night mostly unknown. Thranduil knew not how much Legolas remembered and now was not the time to ask. They had to move, before they became permanently affixed to the couch. Thranduil peeled himself away and stood, leaning heavily on the backrest of the couch. His hair dripped down past his shoulders and hung along with his bowed head. "Are you in any pain, iôn nín? You drank a lot last night..." The wine bottle remained almost empty, nearby.
Thranduil told himself that without wine, Legolas would probably have driven him away once their little adventure passed a certain point. This morning he would truly find out what his son thought... and just how open he was.
"In no pain I'm familiar with." Legolas whined again, frowning in discomfort when he found his head to be spinning anew while he sat up slowly. "But I'm afraid I fail to understand your immense gusto for this brew if this is the usual outcome." He pointed to his head for emphasis, giving a tortured smile.
It was just then that the prince became fully aware of the sticky mess that covered both him and his father. And the bigger part of the couch. Realising this made Legolas blush to the tip of his pointy ears since, given he could trust the blurry fragments he recalled from last night's events, the irreversible ruination of the couch was mostly his fault. However, what the young elf recalled for sure was the incredible feeling his beautiful Ada had bestowed upon him with...whatever it he had done exactly. All Legolas remembered with utmost certainty was that it had consisted of a lot of very intimate skin-to-skin contact. Yes, this memory he was particularly fond of.
Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he curiously started to lick away the remnants of the dried, glutinous come that plentifully covered his long digits. Thranduil tried to think of a comment regarding his proclivity for wine, but all coherent thought left his mind the moment he saw what his son was doing.
'Oh by the Valar, this tastes fantastic! More!' Legolas thought to himself as if in magical trance, surprised at the sweet flavour and aromatic fragrance that had something distinctly Thranduil to it. Indulgent and divine, Legolas' licking heated up the King's suddenly tense body in more ways than one. Below the waist Thranduil tried to control himself, unwilling for his lust to take control so early in the morning. He'd never tasted himself before, but if natural elven substances were to be compared, it was known they were quite sweet. And… Legolas had always loved sweets.
Before long, the younger blonde got totally carried away, greedily lapping up every tiny bit of the addicting in, dried-up semen from both his hands and fingers in an unseemly lascivious fashion he was at no point aware of. When he had finished, Legolas looked up and seemed to snap out of this wicked spell, embarrassed. "I...I have a feeling...we need some basic cleaning, don't you agree, Ada?" He stuttered, not comprehending what just had happened and desperate for a warm bath to clear his fogged mind and rid himself of the confusingly tempting bodily fluids.
Thranduil looked away for just a moment and heard his son's voice. Ah, finally had Legolas come to his senses! Watching him was far too enticing and Thranduil was glad he had some degree of self control. The hangover would be looked after later, and Thranduil reached for his son's hand.
"Yes. Come, I shall take you."
'In more ways than one.'
He intended to lead Legolas down to the baths, where rock pools full of sparkling water shone like liquid emeralds. They were natural hot springs with steps and ledges carved into the sides, and by the edges were several bottles of scented oils to use on skin and hair. Thranduil hoped his servants would keep their mouths shut about what they saw when both King and Prince entered in such a messy condition. Neither of them needed questions and odd looks this morning.
Blissfully unaware of the renewed arousal Legolas had unintentionally stirred in his father, the young prince dutifully took the king's offered hand, allowing for him to be led to the impressive wells deep within the caves of the royal palace.
Still pre-occupied with the raging headache that hammered between his temples, he let out a relieved groan when the pleasant, warm water washed over him as he sank down into it up to his nose. Apart from the hangover, Legolas felt also somewhat tense, almost every muscles in his young body aching as if he had gone through some sort of thorough physical exertion. His still alcohol-clouded mind suggested it was yesterday's archery training that was now taking its toll on him yet deep inside he had a vague suspicion that this lame excuse couldn't be further from the truth.
Nevertheless, right now he couldn't care less either; the soft waves splashing against him working their soothing magic on his limbs before long. Legolas was so lost in relaxation, eyes closed and head resting against the rounded edge of the pool that he hadn't even started to notice the confused, curious and condemnatory looks the two Elvish footmen had given him and Thranduil when they had helped the regal blondes to peel out of their sticky, copiously stained robes that left little to imagination. Though nudity was nothing to be ashamed of amongst the Elven kin, open display of sexuality or remnants of such were a totally different story.
Had Legolas been sober, he probably would have sensed the servants' revulsion and gone deep red with shame. Realisation had dawned on the two lower elves all too quickly when they found their ill-tempered king in a similar, uncharacteristically dishevelled state. Luckily, the two footmen were wise enough to keep their mouths shut, however, or at least the prince had thought so. Besides, since Legolas was indeed not sober, he was spared the humiliation for the time being. Instead, he politely addressed one of the shocked Elves, lazily cracking an eye open as he felt Thranduil move in the water beside him. "Maeral, I think we need a good scrubbing, please. Would you be so kind to attend to it?"
Maeral took one look at Legolas then Thranduil, who was glaring just a little too much.
"Yes, your Highness." He stripped off his robes and was graceful in his descent, taking the stairs into the deep pool. Once near to Legolas he picked up a soft sponge and dipped it in the water, steam rising from it when he took it out. After soap and lather, he laid it upon Legolas' chest and began to scrub. Thranduil gestured to the other elf, Gelias. He did not need words to express what he wanted. As usual, Thranduil was looked after with extreme care, and while one hand cleaned his body, the other combed through his hair. He relaxed completely and tilted his head aside, gazing at Legolas.
"So tell me, iôn nín. Do you think you will taste wine again after your adventures last night? I must say, your behaviour was most amusing to observe." The lilt of his voice suggested he still remembered Legolas' antics and the thought of them made him smile. Light pink tinted his cheeks as he wiggled his eyebrows at his son. Before their servants, Thranduil knew there could be no embarrassment. Legolas however was not as confident before them (or so Thranduil thought) and likely would feel a tad humiliated if their intimacy last night was brought up. Thranduil did not care much – his servants could have their tongues cut out at any moment, and their slanderous words disproved by careful acting. He eyed Maeral for a moment, considering just how judgemental one elf could get. This one always seemed too thoughtful for his own good - independent, and with pride. Troublesome for a servant, but always respectful around the King. Maeral could not say anything or even look at him strangely if Thranduil made talk of taboo.
Since Maeral obediently held his tongue, Legolas was still naively unaware of the servant's disapproval, relishing the hearty cleaning that was bestowed upon him by the dark-haired footmen. Truth be told, the prince enjoyed being pampered and looked after more than he cared to admit. However, he wasn't as confident as his father with ordering subjects around, authority and domination didn't come to him as naturally as it did to Thranduil and Legolas had a feeling it probably never would. Inwardly shrugging at that realisation, the young blonde turned his head to face the king, blushing lightly at the suggestiveness his father's question held. Seeing the ever stern king wiggle his eyebrows at him made Legolas laugh genuinely though, his awkwardness to discuss private matters in front of subjects, no matter how loyal, forgotten for the time being..
'Amusing? No, breathtaking! I can't recall I've ever felt anything like that before.'
"Well," He drawled, looking for the right words as he kept taking in the sight of his forbiddingly beautiful Ada before him. Only a handbreadth away. Naked in all his ethereal glory. Suddenly dizzy, Legolas felt an alarming first twitch in his loins. "Your wine sure has its merits, I give you that much." Legolas forced himself to reply, trying to sound nonchalant."However, I'd love to forego that awful headache next time."
Speaking of Thranduil's fateful wine triggered blurred memories of last night's events popping up before Legolas' inner eye, flooding both his mind and body with overwhelming excitement and reawakened arousal. Much to his horror, he felt his cock growing hard at rapid speed, right in front of everybody, his shameful boner only thinly disguised by the soft waves of the steaming spring. Legolas eyes widened as did his pupils and before he knew what he was doing, he took a step towards Thranduil, not caring when Maeral gave a shocked squeak as the young prince's erect cock brushed the footmen's upper thigh in the process.
"I think you've missed a spot, Gelias." Legolas mumbled like in trance, eyes fixated on his father's chest. Before he knew what he was doing, the prince leaned forward and gave Thranduil's pectoral an unmistakably sexually charged lick, his pink little tongue lapping away the dried come that Gelias indeed had missed to clean off the king.
Thranduil twitched minutely at the contact of hot tongue against sensitive flesh, and he looked down at his beautiful, sneaky son.
'He really does love that taste, doesn't he? Hmm... perhaps next time I shall have him clean me with his tongue?'
He drew a hand up through the water and combed it through Legolas' hair, his movements slow and serene. As he spoke, his voice became a low, almost slurred collection of breathy words. "The trick with wine is to drink a little more when your head starts to hurt." As he pet his son's hair, he scooped a little warm water into his hand and let it trickle over the top of Legolas' head. "Mm... Last night truly was something to remember. I might have to drink with you more often..."
Used to drunkenness and capable of retaining some memory, Thranduil gazed at his son with a misty and lustful gaze. From the temperature of Legolas' body and the feel of his pulse, Thranduil could tell he was aroused. His hand slid down the side of Legolas' neck and remained there, long fingers drifting up and down. His thumb remained hidden in a mass of wet hair and discreetly massaged a point behind Legolas' ear. He knew exactly what he was doing once again and cared not for consequence. He was the King. In his realm, he could suffer nothing of the sort.
While he paid close attention to his son, his left hand remained free beneath the water. He reached for Gelias with it and stroked his servant's inner thigh, peering from the corner of his eyes to see a quick reaction. Gelias bit his lip and looked down in immediate submission, used to the King's fooling around but still young enough to be shocked by it. Maeral was right there and his immediate superior when it came to their duties, looking far too uncomfortable to remain silent. Maeral had to clench his tight ass to avoid exploding as he witnessed what was going on. He hesitated to touch Legolas when Thranduil was so near but had a little more scrubbing to do... at Legolas' lower back. Gelias meanwhile was being fondled beneath the water and Thranduil enjoyed the smooth feel of his servant's pale, soft skin. Gelias couldn't even breathe an expression of his shameful arousal, courtesy of Thranduil's skilful fingers. He was to remain silent and pretty, like a rubber duck in a bathtub. Something like that.
Legolas didn't even realise what he was doing before it was too late. Happily lapping away at his Ada's chest had come to him so naturally, unbeknownst to him aided by magic yet born out of a strange, deep-rooted and dark desire that made him repeatedly forget about etiquette. Purring softly, Legolas blatantly revelled in the king's manipulative touch. It was just the moment as the prince felt warm water trickle over his scalp, hearing his father's voice in the distance that briefly made him snap out of his transfixed state. Blushing furiously, he flinched, staring back into the frowning face of Mearal, who was quite obviously very close to losing his temper at the indecorous actions that unfolded right before his very eye.
'Oh holy hell, what am I even doing??? This has to be some after-effect of the wine?!'
Legolas secretly hoped, seriously considering to simply submerge in the steaming pool in order to hide from the accusing glances Mearal shot him as he reluctantly resumed his work of cleaning the prince. However, the young blonde quickly dismissed the ridiculous idea when he caught sight of Gelias' tortured expression. And the reason for it. Tilting his head curiously, an odd mix of jealousy and electrifying excitement washed over Legolas, painfully adding to is his already throbbing arousal as he watched his wicked father fondle a very tense and adorably compliant Gelias.
Thranduil continued to shamelessly grope his fine young servant, curious about how Maeral was dealing with it. Apparently he wasn't taking it too well, as his expression and movements were both stiff and almost forced. Thranduil knew he wanted to either explode or escape. So naturally, he decided to make it a little more torturous for him. As Gelias went to shampoo his hair, Thranduil turned his head and kissed him right on the lips.
"Mmph!" Gelias flushed redder and nearly drowned himself there and then. He hurriedly poured his handfuls of shampoo (rose and jasmine scented, all natural) onto Thranduil's head and pulled away. Thranduil only smirked and turned his back to him, leaving his hair in the trembling servant's hands. Now he faced Legolas, and one very uncomfortable Maeral.
"My, my. Someone's tense. Whatever is the matter with you?" asked Thranduil, reaching over Legolas' chest to trail a wet finger along Maeral's cheek. He rested his chin on Legolas' shoulder, peeping with his icy blue eyes. His other hand went around Legolas' waist, dipping down to caress his buttocks underwater. Thranduil did so love to touch especially when relaxed in the warmth of these steamy pools. The water made skin so soft, so pliant and in certain places, bouncy. All it needed was a few extra substances and the water would rejuvenate any elf to glowing heights. Said substance was something on the verge of release and Gelias had to struggle to keep himself under control as he lathered up Thranduil's gorgeous blonde hair. He hoped Maeral couldn't read what was going through his mind right now.
Mearal's eyes narrowed in anger, intently watching Thanduil's deliberate provocation. The old servant wasn't fuming about the King's rather unkingly behaviour though, oh no, that was old news to him. Contrary to the icy and collected demeanour Thranduil loved to let on when around other races, probably laughing inwardly at their foolishness, his blatant licentiousness was not only well-known, but both feared and desired amongst his own folks. Everybody intending to enter into the Elvenking's service had heard the rumours of said service being...all-encompassing. And thus twisted and painful at times as well, the King's deviancy legendary. Even so, Thranduil was never short of new applicants, his allure and ethereal beauty almost impossible to resist for most beings, Maeral having been no exception in his younger days. Hence, he couldn't really blame Gelias for falling for the king's manipulative tricks, easily being coaxed into spreading his thighs oh so willingly should the occasion arise. The poor boy was most likely fantasising about being taken already.
But neither Gelias' nor any other footman's readiness to have their bones jumped by their debauched King in no time was what truly bugged Maeral since they knew what they were in for when applying. No, it was the young prince's corruption that left a nasty taste in his mouth. From Maeral's point of view, Legolas was a sensitive, virtuous and hopelessly overprotected soul, worthy of so much more than being randomly subjected to the depraved whim of his own father. The aged elf feared that Legolas, although obviously quite thrilled and content with the illicit situation for the time being, would be left heart-broken if he turned out to be just another depraved diversion for Thranduil. To his credit, Maeral did not know of the true reason regarding the highly questionable actions of the Royal Highnesses and so he did what he his sense of duty commanded him to do, consequences be damned.
"With all due respect, your Majesty," The older servant growled lowly. "Do you consider it appropriate to engage in such..." His eyes darted briefly to where the King's hand idly kneaded Legolas' firm buttocks. "...activities with your own flesh and blood?"
Thranduil's caressing hand slipped a single finger between Legolas' cheeks and stroked all the way up to his spine. Slowly he blinked, taking his sweet time in plucking the most delicate answer to Maeral's question out of the air.
"Mm… but of course! I love my precious little leaf and he enjoys it plenty. Don't you, Legolas?" He purred into his son's ear, continuing to grope and sweep his slender fingers further to the underside of Legolas' body. As Gelias finished soaping up his hair, Thranduil slithered closer to Maeral. So close in fact that he could feel the heat from his servant's body and see every muscle tensed. Being somewhat taller than him, Thranduil was able to peer into those judgemental eyes with his own lidded in haughty amusement. "Are you jealous?"
He didn't mind having to face off in the baths while completely nude and erect, finding his own abilities and position more than enough to win. Maeral he hoped had the sense not to argue, especially in front of the young and impressionable prince. Gelias tried to make himself small beside Legolas as he had the feeling that shit was going to go down. Thranduil displayed no aggression or ill intent, however. Just superiority, cold and pure.
Legolas blushed in a bright pink, yet nodded his approval as he whispered enthusiastically. "Yes, I do. Don't worry about my well-being, Maeral. Ada is taking good care of me."
Maeral cringed a little at the prince's inadvertent choice of words, but the happy expression and the sweet, shy smile that graced Legolas' youthful features put the valet a little more conciliatory with the whole situation. After all, he had given all parties a thought-provoking impulse or two, hadn't he? And silenced his consciousness, too. Anything beyond that was indeed none of his business, illicit or not.
Nevertheless, Maeral had to suppress the snort that threatened to escape his lips at the King's conceited question. Jealous? Did Thranduil really believe that the footman's had had the nerve to interfere due to the 'irresistible attraction' the Elvenking prided himself on? By the Valar, evidently his arrogance knew no boundaries!
"No, Sire." The old elf replied, outwardly calm (yet admittedly a little nervous at the close proximity of a very impressive erection pointing at him like a compass needle) and not fooled by Thranduil's attempt of physical intimidation as the King planted himself in front of his impertinent servant. "My only desire is to see the prince happy." He reluctantly bowed his head before adding. "Permanently, that is."
Thranduil discerned a mild protective instinct from Maeral's words and raised an eyebrow, suspicious. He did not let anything slip in the tone of his voice as he instructed his servant.
"Then perhaps you can please him yourself. Attend my son, will you?" Moving away in a graceful sweep he pulled himself out of the pool and sat on the edge. His hair stuck to his soft, wet body and his arousal was made very clear. Thranduil stood then, posture relaxed and gestures loose. "Gelias, fetch the others." With a sneaky glance to Legolas and Maeral, Thranduil wandered over to the right where the smooth rock floor transitioned into thick, fluffy carpet. Like most places he frequented, it was soft and comfortable for all who entered. Chairs covered in similarly fluffy fabric sat before enormous mirrors and ornate stands full of hair products. All natural and fragrant, the bottles had pictures of different flowers on them.
Gelias was having a little difficulty concentrating on his tasks but ran to get some more servants at once, trying not to waddle due to the ache between his legs. As Thranduil sank into a tall chair that left only his head unsupported, he closed his eyes. Gelias brought five elves with him, three for Thranduil and two for Legolas. Such long, glorious hair required intricate care and the Silvan were very experienced in that.
At first, Maeral was outright dumbfounded by the King's latest order but then he secretly smiled to himself and nodded obediently. "As you wish, Milord."
Apparently, Thranduil had received the servant's well-meant broad hint and was now trying to play the situation down, letting the other elf off the hook. Or so Maeral thought. Little did he know that he was soon to find out just how very wrong he was in that matter. The old fool was far from being forgiven for his impertinence yet didn't entertain the slightest suspicion when he silently left the pool, following the little group to the grooming area and gracefully sinking to his knees in front of a adorably flustered crown prince.
Meanwhile, Legolas had slumped into the chair next to his father, undecided whether he was supposed to be shocked or excited about the fact that Thranduil had just ordered a random servant to carnally pleasure the young prince. Watching his father making a fabulous show of getting out of the springs had stirred the prince's arousal anew, yet with more and more Elves and hence evenly more prying eyes in the room, Legolas suddenly felt somewhat intimidated, his gaze darting nervously to the green eyes of Maeral.
"You...you don't need to do this, you know." Legolas croaked, his fingers firmly clutching the armrest of the plush hairdressing chair. "I'm sure Ada was only jesting when..."
Maeral simply gave the fidgeting prince a reassuring, warm smile as he moved to carefully part the prince's knees. "My Highness, I daresay your father is quite insistent in his wish for me to tend to you." The older elf tilted his head, eying the prince's twitching erection curiously. "And besides, be assured that I deem it a great honour servicing you this way." For emphasis, he leaned closer towards Legolas, resting his hands on both the prince's lithe thighs and tenderly licked away the glistening drop of precum that leaked from the slit of Legolas' fluted, pink cock. "Just sit back and relax, my dear prince."
Legolas had stared wide-eyed, breath hitching when he felt Maeral's tongue, anyone's tongue on his length for the first time. Another pair of hands reached around his shoulders from behind him and softly pulling the prince back against the back of the chair, the other footmen starting to work their magic on the prince's hair, luckily minding their business. Legolas couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut and giving tiny whimpers at the intensity of the moment.
Thranduil smirked upon sight of Maeral's obedience and parted his legs for Gelias to settle between. Still painfully hard, Gelias began to suck at Thranduil eagerly until his head was held in place. Thranduil only wished for a little warmth, and was saving his release for later. Gelias could relax now and rest his face in the softness of Thranduil's thighs, caressing them gently. He gazed up at Thranduil, admiring him from below.
Thranduil closed his eyes and felt the first of the other servants pick up his hair and begin to dry long sections with a soft towel. The others combed out his long, shining locks while he tilted his head back and let them work. It was always like this in the morning – he would bathe and have attention lavished upon him by his loyal servants. Then, an extravagant breakfast on the sunlit western balcony near his room in the palace. Afterwards he had the day to sit on his throne and think, or do whatever else a King was supposed to. Nowadays he much felt like keeping his son in check, since the years were dragging on and Mirkwood was becoming ever more dangerous. Beside him Legolas whimpered as he was pleasured and Thranduil thought to himself, 'Who would ever want to leave such a perfect place?'
Here there was good food and wine, status for Thranduil's little family and an entire race of elves willing to bow at their feet. The King could not honestly ask for much more when everything he'd ever wanted was readily available. Aside from certain people coming back to life, this was as good as it was going to get. He ran his fingers through Gelias' hair, sighing.
"Mmmhnn…"
Neither of the present Elves was truly surprised when the young, inexperienced prince reached his peak all too soon at the skilled hands (and mouth) of the dark-haired head servant. Sighing contentedly, Legolas whispered his thank you to Maeral before a cursory glance to the side instantly piqued his curiosity. Between the king's strong thighs kneeled Gelias, beaming up at Thranduil with bright blue eyes whilst the footman's mouth was thoroughly stuffed, glistening lips stretching wide around regal cock. Much to Legolas confusion however, the youthful lad did not show the slightest inclination of putting his tongue to good use though as Maeral had done on Legolas only moments ago. No, Gelias just knelt there, unmoving and servile while the king himself had his eyes closed in obvious relaxation. Tilting his head, Legolas blinked a few times, clueless. From what he had learned so far, carnal pleasure usually involved some sort of motion and the scene before him was definitely lacking such.
"Ada?" The prince asked curiously. "What exactly is Gelias doing that makes you feel so at ease?" Legolas furrowed a brow, his lack of knowledge starting to bug him. "He isn't even moving?!"
Thranduil turned to his son and a lazy smile grew across his face. "Mm… oh, it feels very good, iôn nín." He ran his fingers through Gelias' soft hair, which remained in its ponytail despite being a little wet. "He is keeping me quite warm here. Tis comfort at its finest, would you like to try?" Thranduil pushed Gelias' head back a little and revealed a section of his glistening length. Then he eyed Maeral, who was wiping his mouth clean discreetly. His tone changed at once.
"You, come here." He commanded Maeral to replace Gelias, allowing the younger servant to crawl the short distance across the carpet to Legolas. Maeral knew he was up for something nasty (as Thranduil rarely required him for much else) and began rethinking his earlier stance on punishment. The King could be a lot more cunning than he let show on his face, and those eyebrows were full of LIES.
Gelias knelt before Legolas and beamed up at him, hungry for a taste of that which he had not stuffed in his mouth before. He'd always wanted to be a connoisseur of the finest foods available. Now was his chance.
"Please allow me to serve you, your Highness." he mewled, parting his soft, full pink lips. A little of Thranduil's scent wafted by.
"Yes, please!" Legolas nodded his eager approval, smiling sweetly down at Gelias' pretty, youthful features. A pleasant shudder ran down his spine when he felt his cock engulfed in comfortable warmth and wetness, granting the prince a degree of relaxation he had never known in young life.
Meanwhile in the other chair, Thranduil's arousal swelled to further hardness at the thoughts of what he was going to do. Like most elves he could maintain a healthy erection for several hours and didn't mind keeping himself stiff for a purpose. Said purpose was to show Maeral what he really approved of aside from incest and not-so-sneaky touches in a semi-public place.
"So you think intervening between us is a good idea, eh?" Thranduil hissed without voice and with Maeral reading his lips, his words were understood. "I'll teach you a better use for your filthy mouth." As an ivory comb went through his sleek, somewhat damp hair he leaned forth and grabbed a fistful of Maeral's braided hair. "Open."
Thranduil's sudden harsh tone snapped Legolas out of his blissful state of contentment, eliciting that odd mixture of curiosity and fear in his son that never failed to cause the little hairs on the prince's neck stand on end. Raising a suspicious brow, Legolas eyes were now glued to the scene unfolding next to him.
Maeral had reluctantly done as he was told, lowering himself to his knees before Thranduil with all the dignity he could muster. He had a vague suspicion on what his resentful King had in stock for him, embarrassment burning brightly on the ancient servant's flushed cheeks. Flustered, Maeral shot Legolas a quick glance through hooded eyes before he quickly averted them again, hoping that his discomfort and shame went unnoticed by the curious lad. Being subjected to humiliation was Maeral's least favourite form of punishment and unfortunately the cunning King of Mirkwood was very much aware of that fact.
Hence, inwardly blocking out any conscious feelings best he could, the dark-haired elf brought his attention back to Thranduil who leered down at him so smugly it itched Maeral to punch that haughty expression out of Thranduil's royal visage. Nevertheless, Maeral refrained from acting on that audacious fantasy, wisely deciding on resigning to his fate instead.
Unceremoniously he tilted his head back a little, parting his lips in defeat and silently waited for his debasement to begin.
The resulting grin on Thranduil's face bared pointy teeth through pale lips, before he reached with clawed fingers for a better grip on Maeral's hair. At the back of Maeral's head, a thick plait began made of three long braids coming from the top and sides of his head. Quite a bit of hair was knotted into a ball around it and Thranduil used it to roughly jerk Maeral towards his own body, flicking his wrist to manipulate his servant's jaw open. Before Maeral's teeth could clack together and register pain, he found a thick, long cock stuffed down his throat so far he could barely breathe. Actually, he could not breathe at all once Thranduil kept him in a certain position and alarm tingled all over his body.
The King lay back easily in his chair, deft fingers caught in russet brown hair. Maeral wasn't going anywhere, and he certainly wasn't going to die. After feeling the struggle and panic around his cock, Thranduil pushed Maeral back just enough to let him breathe.

"Your throat forms a better sleeve of pleasure than speaking device, Maeral. Consider filling your filthy mouth with this before you make talk where it is not due."
Maeral could not lay hands nor pleading gaze upon the King, kneeling before him with his neck forced at a painful angle. Hell, every angle hurt after so many centuries of this. His gasping breaths made Thranduil laugh as he was rhythmically stuffed and left empty of cock. All his focus went into breathing and trying to remain calm, face flushed with shame. One of the servants standing to comb Thranduil's hair ran a finger down the side of the King's ear and giggled.
"Ohh, look at how scared he is… he's shaking. Sire, you might want to adjust your feet. He looks like he's going to piss himself."
Thranduil looked down with an eyebrow raised to see Maeral tightly squeezing his legs together, nude just like everyone else and trembling as if cold. He'd tucked his penis under himself somehow and seemed intent to sit on it for some semblance of bodily control. Thranduil scoffed and pulled Maeral back, letting him rasp for breath and then yelp in an uncontrollable burst as a foot nudged his legs apart.
"Pah. He is outspoken and weak, and a terrible whore. Look how he tries to hold himself, and how easily he gives in." He turned to Legolas then, who had an oddly curious look about him. "Ai, Legolas. Discipline must be handed quickly to those who are slow to learn. Maeral here would have you for himself, I believe. I have seen how he watches you." Perhaps a little maddened and simply seeing what he wanted to see, Thranduil conjured memories of things that had no reason to exist. His mind easily justified every reason why he might punish Maeral, both real and fictitious. Maeral meanwhile was screaming "BULLSHIT" in his mind and begging the Valar for this torment to end. His throat was woefully sore and his tongue felt about to dissolve with the heated friction of Thranduil's constant rubbing. The King did not even make an effort to thrust, instead forcing Maeral's whole body to move from the highest point of his spine. A few cracks could be heard here and there.
Gelias seemed completely out of it, paying no attention to anything other than gazing up at Legolas with a dreamy expression on his face. Now and then he swallowed, only on impulse as his mouth remained wet and sticky. Legolas could rest there for however long he liked – Gelias could even fall asleep like this!
The servants behind Thranduil were starting to snicker a little, most pitying Maeral and the others finding the whole thing amusing. Those behind Legolas tried not to look. Those who were nude could not hide unexpected arousal if it decided to come around.
Since he had expected a harsh thrust, Maeral was caught somewhat off-guard when he was abruptly jerked forward instead. Instinctively, he tried to scramble back but Thranduil's iron grip held him securely in place, allowing the King to shove his girthy length balls deep into Maeral's tight and unprepared throat. Giving a panicked grunt when he felt his air supply momentarily being cut off, tears welled up as the lower elf's eyes went wide with in shock. It took all his willpower not to struggle or even try to fight and free himself as Maeral found his nose pressed awkwardly against Thranduil's forbiddingly soft abdomen, restricting Maeral's intake of air even further. Willing his gagging reflex down best he could long seconds of pain and horror ticked by, the painful throb in his abused throat intensifying before the pressure on the back of his head declined all of a sudden. Still in deadly terror Maeral took a long, audible breath when the King allowed him to do so but before long he found himself being choked over and over again.
Thranduil's cruel words and laughter only added to the poor servant's disgrace and for a split second Maeral wondered if it was possibly to die from shame. Since his eyesight was still blurred with unshed tears he didn't recognise which of the other elves had made the snide remark that inspired the King to rob Maeral of the last bit of control he claimed to have over his body by kicking his legs apart. The moment the dark-haired elf's shrunken length hung free between his shivering thighs, he had indeed had to fight the urge to piss but gladly succeeded. He'd rather die than piss himself while being humiliatingly face-fucked by one obviously lunatic Elven King. Oh no, this was not the way he would like to be remembered!
The King's merciless treatment and mad accusations continued for quite some time and Maeral endured it with all the dignity he could muster, suffering silently.
Legolas had watched in awe, although with mixed feelings. One the one hand he felt incredibly sorry for poor Maeral but on the other hand he couldn't deny the heat and enormous arousal that his father's very actions had stirred in the young prince. Legolas was strangely fascinated by the Thranduil's mean, vile demeanour and so the prince caught himself fantasising to be in Maeral's place, on the receiving end of Thranduil's deliciously obscene and untamed perverse sadism.
Legolas found himself grow hard again in Gelias' comfortable mouth as he watched on, transfixed.
Interim, Maeral had high hopes for his ordeal to end when the tell-tale, erratic throb of Thranduil's deeply buried cock announced the King's pending climax. Accompanied by a deep, guttural moan that reverberated from stone-carved walls Thranduil shot a veritable jet of sticky come down the depths of Maeral's sore, burning throat, load after load of the sweet substance distending the servants belly until it bulged visibly.
At that sight Legolas spent himself with a strangled cry into the welcoming hot warmth of Gelias' mouth, who seemed utterly happy with the outcome, now sucking eagerly to catch every last drop of the prince's royal seed. Not wanting to waste a drop and in order to cap it all off, thereby finally completing Maeral's punishment, the King unleashed his last load straight onto his disobedient servant's face, decorating it with a rich cream pie that covered at least two thirds of the silently whimpering elf's face and quite a few strands of his hair.
"Will that be all, Sire?" Maeral asked stoically though trembling inside with indignation.
Thranduil would be full and ready for another session of raw pleasure in mere hours, and pushed Maeral away. He saw the servant reaching for one of many cloths piled up on the floor and stopped him with a sharp command.
"Go and resume your duties, and leave that on your face. Valar knows you could use the moisture, what with your dry comments and all." The King waved his hand dismissively as he rose from his comfortable seat. His hair was only damp now and did not stick to his back, instead swaying with every movement. He patted one of his more well-behaved servants on the head and spread his arms to be clothed by the others. Once in his robes and breeches, he turned to Legolas.
"Care to join me for breakfast?"
༻✨❀✨༺

A/N: Ayy if anyone's interested on the backstory for Maeral and Gelias, there'll be a little side-fic appearing sometime soon for that. :D Rest assured that the main story here will continue to focus on Thranduil and Legolas!
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