Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Of Light and Shadow	By : Avaloyuru Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2298 -:- 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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Pulling his legs up into the large chair in front of the hearth, Thranduil wrapped his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees as he gazed into the flames that danced across the logs. He wondered at the absence of the dark elf, it had been several days since he had visited him. He was only able to mark the passage of time by the fact that they made sure to feed him three meals a day and he was required to bathe every morning. He was relieved the guards were content to at least allow him the privilege of doing these things himself. Strange feelings stirred just under the surface of his thoughts, things he could not put into words.
The stone faced guards spoke only to him when they needed him to wake up, bathe or eat and looked at him with strange knowing glances yet never answered his questions. He yearned for simple conversation with anyone. He longed as well for the freedom of the forest, the scents of the many pines, oaks, and birch trees, and the flora that grew in abundance along the forest floor. He missed the subtle voices of the forest animals, the rivers, and streams.
"You are a world away from your precious Woodland Realm." The dark elf had told him. Yet he knew in his heart they were looking for him, he felt the tears stinging the backs of his eyes as his thoughts turned to his son. His sweet beautiful Legolas, his little leaf.
Reaching the ramparts at the top of the northeastern tower, Edicûve paused for long moments observing the silhouette of the Lord of the Keep. Wrapped in his thick winter cloak, Cerályië gazed silently toward the darkening evening sky. Only a small spattering of stars had begun to twinkle as the deep pinks and lavenders slowly deepened into true night.
"Why do you disturb me?" Cerályië asked quietly, without turning as he pulled the cloak tighter about him. Winter was now fully upon them and the icy winds from the north seemed to reach into every part of him.
"You cannot keep ignoring him." Edicûve replied, keeping his voice low as he walked over to stand beside him.
"I grow tired of being told what I can and cannot do." Cerályië sighed heavily, casting him a sideways glance.
"You cannot hide from your feelings Cerá." He said quietly as he leaned against the stone of the rampart.
"My feelings?!" He exclaimed as he turned to face him, the hood of his cloak obscuring his face. "How do you know what I feel?!" He demanded, glaring at him as folded his arms protectively across this chest.
"You're in love with him." Edicûve stated pointedly as he turned to look at him. Although his face was hidden within the shadows of the hood, he could feel the angry glare.
"Love?!" He nearly choked out through humorless laughter. "Love is nothing but a silly fairy tale told to young children to give them false hope." He stated, his voice was as cold as the frozen wastelands of the north.
Turning away from him Cerályië felt his entire body tremble as he strode purposefully toward the stairs, disappearing into the Keep. Love was nothing but a fools dream. The faces came and went, he enjoyed the pleasures their bodies could give him, never allowing them to touch his heart. All but one yet he knew it wasn't love, love was meant to last forever. Thranduil would be set free in the spring when it was safe to cross the Misty Mountains and he would never see him again.
Tossing his cloak over the back of the long leather covered settee in front of the hearth in his public sitting room, he walked straight to the bookcase in the far corner. Triggering the latch to open the secret passage, shaking himself mentally as he pulled it closed behind him and silently disappeared into the tunnels leading to the dungeons below.
"I see you have fared well in my absence." He stated as he entered the room, smiling as he saw Thranduil rise quickly from the chair in front of the hearth. "You may leave us now Dorinäélin." He added, his eyes never leaving Thranduil as he walked toward him.
"I did not intend to leave you for so long." He said quietly as he wrapped his arms around him, kissing him softly. "Very good." He whispered, teasing his lips with his own as he dropped one hand to gently caress his flaccid sex.
Stiffening instinctively Thranduil struggled with the myriad of emotions that washed over him. Initially his anger flared at the elf's audacity for having kept him prisoner in the first place, yet he felt almost a relief that he had come back, he had not abandoned him. Unexplained feelings fluttered in his stomach as the elf seemed to float gracefully toward him, wrapping him in a warm embrace. Frowning inwardly, he was startled at his disappointment that the kiss has been so brief. Turning his face away from him, Thranduil was confused at the heat that flushed his cheeks as his body quickly responded to the elf's gentle fondling.
"You learn quickly pirá neth nîn (My little one), that is good." He almost purred as he nuzzled his ear softly. Enjoying the slight tremble he felt in him as he nipped playfully at his earlobe. "I am in need of you tonight." He told him softly as he guided him backward, pressing him to his knees on the thick furs in front of the hearth.
Laying back on the soft furs, Thranduil found himself admiring the elf's lean body, watching the play of his muscles as he slowly removed his robes. While he still refused to willingly refer to him as Herdir, he wondered at his name, who he was and where he came from as he let his gaze roam over him. Smiling to himself as the elf ran his fingers through his long dark tresses, obviously aware of the fact that he was watching him. Nervously wetting his lips, his gaze followed him as he walked gracefully toward the tall cupboard he knew contained medicinal supplies.
Smiling almost wickedly, Cerályië returned with a small tin of herbal salve. Placing it on the ledge in front of the hearth, he lowered himself onto the furs with one knee on each side of his thighs. Meeting his gaze, he absently stroked himself as he looked down at him. The arrogance of a king only slightly weakened by the subtle tremble in his parted lips. He knew based on their precious contact that Thranduil was not innocent in the ways of intimacy between ellyn, yet it was a quality that exuded from him in this world as he stared up at him.
"You have been good but you have not yet earned the privilege of looking at me while I take my pleasure of you. Turn over." He told him, enjoying the flash anger in those beautiful eyes. "Do I need to use a strap to provide you with encouragement?" He asked when Thranduil hesitated.
"It excites you to be used like a little zan kurv (Elf whore) doesn't it?" Cerályië asked, caressing the firm mounds of his backside as he reached under him to feel him stiffening.
"No!" Thranduil stated angrily as he started to roll back over. "Yes!" He immediately yelped painfully as a brutal slap quickly fell across one cheek of his backside.
"Beg me for it." Cerályië taunted him, caressing the pink swipe on his flesh where he had just marked him. "Beg me to fuck you."
"I did not hear you." He stated, landing another hard slap on the other cheek.
"Mmphf!" Thranduil grunted painfully through clenched jaws. "I want you to fuck me." He gasped, swallowing hard against a suddenly parched throat.
"I did not hear you say please." Cerályië stated, landing another slap on the other side.
"Please!" Thranduil exclaimed, flinching as another stinging slap landed on his backside.
"Please what?" He asked, raking his nails over his backside, enjoying the long hiss that escaped Thranduils' throat.
"Please fuck me!" Thranduil exclaimed, burying his face in his folded arms. "Aaahh!" He cried out as he arched his back against the pain of yet another hard swat to his now tender backside.
"Who do you want to fuck you?" Cerályië asked, pushing him further as he raised his hand again, waiting for the answer.
"You are not my Herdir!" Thranduil exclaimed loudly only to hear his choked scream as the elf grabbed a handful of his hair, jerking his head back as he slapped his backside hard.
"I suggest you rethink yourself." Cerályië stated, twisting the handful of his thick silvery blonde tresses cruelly as he pulled back a little further.
"Please fuck me Herdir." Thranduil choked out as he struggled to breathe, feeling his cheeks scald with his humiliation.
"That's better." Cerályië chuckled as he quickly released his hair. "Keep your head down and spread your legs for me." He stated calmly, his tone was soft yet conveyed no feelings as he grasped his hips, lifting them upward.
Covering the firm mounds with his hands, Cerályië used his thumbs to gently spread his cheeks. Leaning toward him, he swiped his tongue over the now fully exposed opening, spreading a thin layer of saliva over it. Blowing softly over the wet skin, he felt him tremble and flex his muscles in a futile effort to close his cheeks against him.
"My sweet little zan kurv." (Elf whore) He said quietly as he released him, reaching for the small tin of salve. "Look at you trembling, on your knees begging me to fuck you." He continued to taunt him as he dipped his finger in the tin and spread the salve thickly over the flexing wrinkled muscle.
"Oh God!" Thranduil cried out silently, his body was not only responding to the humiliation of his undignified position, it was screaming for what his mind would not put into words.
He wanted this! Trembling to his very core, his body was crying out to be used by the beautiful elf. Digging his fingers into the thickness of the furs, he heard himself sigh as he felt his long slender finger slip easily into him. Instinctively his muscles flexed and tightened as the second slid inside, soliciting a soft moan from his lips as he felt him slowly stretching him. The sounds of his moans grew louder, stinging his cheeks in his humiliation as a third finger slipped inside, stretching him even more.
Positioning himself with his other hand, Cerályië removed his fingers as he pressed into him in one slow thrust. Burying himself to the hilt, he held still for long moments as he felt him tense, his body shuddering as he filled him completely. Grasping his hips firmly as he rocked against him gently at first, listening as the strained whimpers slowly faded to moans of pleasure. Each thrust gifted him with yet another groan as he continued to use his body, slamming into him as he sought release.
Pulling free of him, he smiled as he watched his fluids dribble from the swollen and abused pink orifice. His smile broadened as he dropped his gaze slightly to the small creamy puddles on the furs beneath him. Wordlessly, he guided him down onto the furs, placing him on his side as he rose to his feet and walked to the bathing chamber.
Washing himself in the basin, his smile turned inward. As with so many others he had trained, he knew Thranduils' mind vehemently rejected what his pride refused to accept yet he could not control his surrender to what his body so obviously desired. There would be no need to break him in order to make him love him.
Cerályië froze, shocked to his very core as the thought lodged itself in his mind. Love? How could he even think of such a thing knowing he could never fully possess him? Tortured by the images that sprang unbidden to his mind, he leaned heavily against the stone edge. Trembling as images of that sweet, beautiful face as he lay sleeping peacefully. The rare moments when he would almost smile back at him as he fed him. A fools dream he reminded himself as he tossed the soiled cloth into the basket and wet another one before returning to the main chamber of the dungeon.
Stiffening slightly as he felt him sit down behind him, Thranduil grasped a handful of the thick fur beneath him, bracing for some form of punishment. Frowning slightly as he felt his gentle fingers parting the cheeks of his backside, a soft warm cloth was drawn slowly over his sore flesh as he cleaned him. Fastidious in his own personal cleanliness, it was something he was admittedly appreciative of the elf. Glancing down through a sheen of tears he would not shed, he watched as the elf reached over him, wiping up the puddles of his own release before tossing the soiled cloth up onto the stone foot of the hearth.
Closing his eyes, he offered no resistance as the elf gently guided him onto his back. Again the confusion wash over him as he felt the warmth and smelled the scent his sweet breath on his face as the elf leaned closer. Gentle fingers caressed his face as they brushed away the stray strands of his hair, tucking them behind his ears. He felt the sting of more tears as those warm lips softly kissed his lashes, as if tasting his tears before trailing down over his cheeks to his own lips.
Softly kissing him, his lips trembled as he impulsively opened his mouth to let him inside. It was not the hungry demanding kiss he was more accustomed to from him. Searching yes but it was also tender and curious as he dipped his tongue into his mouth, playfully touching and teasing his own tongue.
"Ah." Cerályië sighed, pulling away from him slightly. "Pirá celebmîr nîn." (My little silver treasure). He said quietly as he watched him slowly open his eyes to look at him. "Amin sinta lle, lle naa vanima?" (Do you know how beautiful you are?) His voice fading to a soft whisper, his gaze flickered over his face as he caressed his cheek. "Ci sui 'lî erin lam nîn." (You are like honey to my tongue) He continued softly as he leaned down, nipping his chin playfully.
"Damn you!" Thranduil cursed him silently as the elf trailed lingering kisses over the soft flesh of his neck.
Trembling, his mind raced with feelings of anger and desire as the warm lips and teasing tongue continued down his chest, pausing to flick over his hardening nipples. Reaching for him, he groaned in frustration as the elf moved over him, grasping his wrists and holding them at his hips with an unnatural strength. Heedless of his struggles, the elf continued to kiss and lick his flesh as he used his knees to push his legs apart.
Smiling to himself as he settled between his thighs, he marveled at Thranduils' strength as he fought him. Enjoying the feel of his body squirming and jerking beneath him, he was thankful once more for the final parting gift his last Herdir (Master) had given him. In his youth he was small and considered weak, almost frail and had never even held a sword or seen a battlefield. In a moment of weakness, his Herdir (Master) had gifted him with unnatural physical strength that had on different occasions proven to be both a blessing and a curse until he learned to master it.
"Ahhh!" Thranduil cried out, arching slightly as he felt those warm lips nipping and kissing the sensitive area of his groin between his sex and his thigh. His long fingers clawing at the softness of the furs beneath him as he instantly realized his mistake. Groaning shamelessly as the elf only leaned in, alternating between licking and sucking the sensitive flesh until he lay beneath him, weakened and trembling breathlessly.
"Your body was made for pleasure." Cerályië nearly purred, his lips curling in a knowing smile as he moved back up over him. "Your pride screams for me to stop yet your body even your fäë (soul) begs to surrender to me." He told him, releasing his wrists to slip his arms beneath his shoulders, cradling his head in his hands.
"I will find all of your secret places pirá neth (little one), this I can promise you." He whispered as he captured his mouth in a long searching kiss.
"Yes." Cerályië whispered to himself as he felt Thranduil surrender his mouth completely to him as his arms encircled him.
Entangling his fingers in the silky softness of his long dark tresses, Thranduil clung to him as he returned the kiss with a hunger of his own. Their bodies entwined as if they were lovers basking in the glow of their lovemaking and the warmth of the hearth, he savored the first tender moment between them. Numerous lovers had graced his bed over the many long years of his life, yet none of them had managed to reach so deeply into his fäë (soul) in such a way so as to drive him beyond desire as this beautiful dark elf.
Creeping cautiously into the room, Edicûve caught sight of the two bodies snuggled together before the hearth. A slight smile touched his lips as his gaze fell on the peaceful face of the Lord of the Keep, a soft expression he had not seen in many long years. Tensions among the villagers and the troops had lessened somewhat with his agreement to release Thranduil in the spring, yet looking at him now he feared the toll it would take on him.
Stiffening slightly as he came awake, every part of him alert Cerályië looked inward, sensing a presence in the room. Slowly opening his eyes, he glanced at the figure in the chair at his feet, recognizing him as Edicûve. Smiling at him as he hugged Thranduil closer to him, enjoying the feel of him as he squirmed, pressing his backside against his groin in his sleep.
Arching a delicate brow at his guard, he cautiously reached for the open tin of salve on the ledge in front of the hearth. Scooping out an ample portion, he coated his stiffening member, stroking himself to a full erection. Positioning himself carefully at his entrance, he pressed deeply into him. Hugging him tightly against himself as Thranduil cried out in a strangled mixture of pain, pleasure and surprise.
Twisting his head toward him, Thranduil was rewarded as the elf's mouth covered his own, swallowing his whimpers and moans as he brought him so close only to stop, refusing him relief.
"Saes Herdir! Saes!" (Please Master, Please) He begged as he squirmed, struggling to rock against the impaling shaft.
"Ben iest gîn, pirá nîn zan kurv." (As you wish, my little elf whore) He whispered softly in his ear as thrust forward, driving himself into the tight warm sheath until he felt him shudder as his release washed over him. Rolling him onto his stomach, he thrust harder and faster, seeking his own release, burying his face in the softness of his thick silver blonde hair as it washed over him.
Pushing himself up from the chair, Edicûve silently slipped out of the room and made his way to the kitchen. After nearly three millennia, he was well aware of Cerályiës' customary routine, he would move to the bathing chamber and be ready for his breakfast when he was finished playing.
Stunned into silence as he realized what had just transpired, Thranduil felt his stomach twist in a tight painful knot as the elf pulled free of him and turned him onto his back. Not only had he openly begged him for release and called him master, he had done so of his own free will.
"Do you know that it makes you even more precious to me?" Cerályië told him as he gently lifted his chin, forcing him to look at him.
Frowning as Thranduil gazed into those deep blue eyes, normally dark and unreadable, they reflected the velvety blue of an evening sky filled with the bright sparkle of starlight. They were soft and warm as they flickered over his face before peering deeply into his own.
"Shh." Cerályië soothed him as he kissed the tears that leaked from the corners of his beautiful sapphire eyes, now clouded with a silvery gray like the coming of a storm.
"Come, we will bathe together before we have our breakfast." He told him quietly as he kissed his lips softly and rose to his feet, pulling him with him.
Subdued beneath the enormous weight of his thoughts and his predicament, Thranduil obediently followed him into the bathing chamber. He had felt a power within the elf that first night and wondered if he had been enchanted by him. Yet at the same time he felt conflicted because he had dealt with the older powers of the Vanyar in the past and knew they did not extend to the manipulation of the mind or the heart. He had begged and called him master of his own free will and he could not take it back.
Leading him down into the warm swirling water, Cerályië walked to the opposite side where the various bottles of scented soaps and shampoos were kept. Pulling him into a strong embrace, he was content for the moment to just hold him. Gently caressing his lower back, he sensed the confusion and the struggle within him. It had been a very long time since he had trained an unwilling slave, even then he had never trained a noble much less a king especially one with Thranduils' reputation. Frowning deeply, Cerályië began to wonder about his past, the parts of it he was not familiar with, concern filled him as he thought of the nightmares he had pulled from him.
Releasing him, he collected two washing cloths from the basket and chose his preferred scent of the soothing aroma of Sólanäceae and sandalwood. Pouring a liberal amount on them, he placed one in Thranduils' hand brought it to his own chest. Smiling warmly, he reached over and began washing Thranduils' chest and shoulders. He had kept it playful, he did not resist as Thranduil walked him back toward the edge of the pool, the unmistakable look of desire in his now very clear sapphire eyes.
Cautiously Thranduil pushed him against the edge, lifting him up onto the side as he stared into the slightly widening eyes of his Herdir (Master). He wanted more than anything at that moment to bury himself deeply within him, to hear him cry out in ecstasy as he pleasured him. Yet, there was something in the depths of his eyes that stopped him. Using the backs of his fingers only, he gently ran his hand along the stiffened length of his member and smiled to himself as he saw him nod his permission. He knew he would suffer his punishment later but he didn't care, he wanted him.
Gently guiding him down onto his back, Thranduil leaned down pulled the crown into his mouth. Grasping the shaft, he gently suckled the crown, swirling his tongue lavishly over the silken skin as he stroked him. Tracing his fingers teasingly over the trembling flesh of his lower belly, he slowly worked his way down the thick girth, pulling back to catch his breath and tease the crown with his tongue, he took his time pleasuring him. Enjoying the feel of his fingers as they tangled themselves in his hair, the sounds of his quickened breaths and soft moans. Relaxing his throat as he felt him thrusting forward, Thranduil held himself still as his Herdir (Master) plunged into his throat until he found his release.
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Of Light and Shadow