A night of fulfilled desires

BY : sevenofmine
Category: +Third Age > Threesomes/Moresomes
Dragon prints: 2935
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor the characters from it. I do not make money from writing this story.

Another sex-free chapter which advances the storyline. I hope someone is still reading. I would appreciate a review.


Chapter 11

Elrond had never before been down in the dungeons. He had heard Bilbo's story of when Thorin and company had been imprisoned here. Even though Thorin had been kept lower than the other dwarves, Elrond was sure that none of them had descended as deep into the earth as they did now. The light of the sky did not shine down here and only the torch that Galion was carrying illuminated the way. The two elves arrived at a plateau and stepped through a dark, wooden door that looked very heavy.

They ended up in a room that was maybe half as big as Legolas' night chambers. The ceiling was low, and he saw a shadowy figure in the middle that had to be Thranduil. Only the king was so big that he nearly touched the ceiling above them. He had changed and wore now a skintight suit in dark shimmering crimson. His hair was tied back in extensively time-consuming braids that Elrond was sure were the doing of Galion. He stood out from the background as his blonde hair and elegant robes were in contrast to the dampness and foul smell of the place. There were three fireplaces which illuminated the scene in addition to Galion's torch which he put into a holder. There were benches and tables with all kinds of instruments and ropes. Elrond wondered whether the king went down to these dungeons for more than just torture sometimes.

In front of Thranduil hang Alatar from the ceiling, his wrists chained. He had been stripped naked and revealed a tanned skin covered by grey hair. Elrond had never seen someone who was not a dwarf to be that hairy and he found it repugnant. Obviously, so did Thranduil. His face told him that he did not want to spend more time with this enterprise than necessary.

Thranduil strode over to the tables and regarded the instruments most of which Lord Elrond could not identify after centuries of war and terror in Middle Earth. His foster father had been a cruel man who he had never been able to truly grow to love, and even him he could not imagine with such tools.

"Most of them are dwarf-made," Thranduil said as if very proud of the irony. "Dwarves were also the most often recipients of their do." He took up a long metal rod, a fire iron, with a decorated stamp at one end. It would serve as a stamp to brand the skin of the tortured person and show everyone who it was that he offended. He held the rod into the fire until the end glowed yellow red. He then held the rod high, glancing at the glowing end. A slight smile flickered on his face.

Elrond hardly saw the king move as suddenly he already heard the blue wizard scream. Thranduil had pressed the glowing stamp onto his skin, his pelvis. Smoke indicated the burning of the upper skin and the sound was rather unpleasant. Elrond walked closer and immediately smelled the familiar odour of burnt human flesh.

Thranduil did not wait much. He changed the glowing rod for an instrument that looked like a metal box consisting of a lot of plates and screws. Elrond could not identify its purpose until he watched Thranduil place it on the wizard's left hand.

"You came here to prepare our lands for the return of Morgoth," Thranduil said. His voice was loud and rough, and in these surroundings, a chill went down Elrond's spine. "Yet you went east with another Istar wizard, going by the name of Pallando." The chill was combined with something itch in Elrond's lower area. This place was foul and dirty and they were torturing a man, how could Elrond become aroused at this?

"You will all fall in the shadow of Morgoth and condemned until the end of days," Alatar said when he had gathered strength again. The branding on his skin was still aching. But he was a Maia and he could endure more than any mortal inhabitant of Middle Earth.

Thranduil had already expected such an answer and loosened a screw in the metal box. It clicked and more yells by the wizard echoed in the darkened room. Elrond flinched and bit his tongue once he realised what Thranduil had done to him: The box clenched the fingers of the wizard and bent them until they broke. All five fingers at once. It was quite an efficient tool and Elrond was sure it was an invention by an elf, not a dwarf. He must have twitched quite much as he felt Galion's hand on his shoulder. He had nearly forgotten that the butler was still with them as he had kept to the shadows and not moved.

Thranduil removed the casket and applied it to the other hand. Alatar had not stopped panting for air.

"I know that you are immortal. But what purpose has a mind if its body is crippled." He initiated the mechanism and this time Elrond recognised the sound of crushing bones. Blood dripped out of the metal box. All of this was hardly as bad to look at as to hear Alatar's screams.

"Even if you die in here, I will find your re-embodiment and continue torturing him," Thranduil said. His voice was calm. He knew that he would not be able to break Alatar. He only wanted to prepare him. If his body suffered, his mind could easier be broken. Elrond knew that he would have to do the hard work.

Thranduil relieved the wizard of the blood-stained instrument. Galion hurried forwards and took it to start with the cleaning.

"I think I should offer my help," Lord Elrond said and stepped forward. Be it an evil Istari or not. He did not like to see suffering, but often it was inevitable. He had always lived a life of respecting every living creature and to avoid physical conflict if possible. But during the war of the last alliance and now as evil was on the rise again, he knew that there was often no way around inflicting pain on other beings.

Thranduil seemed to be disappointed that Elrond interrupted him so early, but he nodded. "Let me help you," he said and grabbed two long, metal boots from the table. Elrond sighed and help Thranduil put them around the wizard's legs. "When I screw the metal plates tighter, his skin and bones will be crushed. The pain will ease your entering into his mind," the king explained his way of thoughts.

Elrond muttered something along the lines, "I appreciate it." While he had been crouching down on the floor, which had obviously often been wiped in the futile endeavour to wish away the stains of blood, sweat, and other bodily secrets, he had smelled again the citrus scent of Thranduil's skin. His hair was so neatly tied back that Elrond paid attention for the first time to his cheek bones. They were not as prominent as his son's, but his cheeks looked so full and his lips so tender. He looked soft, but everything about him proved the opposite. Elrond could not help but feel his heart beat faster in the presence of his lover's father.

"You are familiar with ósanwe," Elrond stood up and looked into the wizard's eyes who were at the height of his own.

"The power to enter one's mind," the wizard muttered crunching his teeth.

"I do not wish to hurt you, but you are giving me no choice," Elrond said calmly and lay his fingertips on the wizard's cheeks. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his mental abilities. He sensed how Thranduil began tightening the boots, slowly cutting into the wizard's flesh and soon crushing his bones.

Elrond felt the presence of Alatar's mind and connected his own mind to his. The Istari possessed high willpower, but the pain was a distraction that allowed the half-elf to enter his mind deeper and deeper, uncovering all kind of memories. Elrond read his mind like flashes of pictures, all without order, all of different length. The discussion with the Valar about sending him and the other Maia to Middle Earth, the journey East, the subduing of the Eastern people, the foundation of secret magic societies. And then he found it. Conversations between the two wizards, about how their endeavour was pointless, how their mortal embodiment had become torture, and how Morgoth promised them to return to pure light, to become free of any mortality or any pain.

"Pallando the Blue has also returned to Middle Earth," Elrond stated. His hands trembled, and Alatar was still fighting him. Thranduil tightened the boots and started the torsion. Elrond heard the unpleasant sound of bones cracking. Alatar bit is teeth which added a noise that sent shudders down Elrond's spine. He focused on his thoughts. "Alatar brought together the evil forces of Mirkwood to start attacking us and men. Pallando is tasked with creating fear in dwarfish and hobbit towns. They want to destroy our will to fight before they open the Door of Night."

"How does he plan to do it?" Thranduil asked. Blood was running down the iron boots and dripping onto his hands.

Elrond concentrated. The wizard was a strong maia, and he was only part-maia. But he knew that he had immense power, or he would not have achieved what he had. He simply needed to unlock it, to be freed of the limitations of his half-elven body. He heard Thranduil apply force again. The wizard screamed internally, but Elrond focused his mind on him, trying to not connect himself to Alatar's pain feeling. He felt like an intruder, he felt like psychologically torturing him. It was against his nature, but he believed that in this particular case, the end justified the means. Or at least he would keep telling himself this for the rest of his life on this continent.

Suddenly, Thranduil saw how Elrond lifted his fingers, breaking the connection. "What?" he asked and tightened the boots further . More blood streamed over his hand, more screams by the wizard. "Why are you stopping?" He watched Elrond step back.

"He and Pallando planned to slaughter Eärendil," Lord Elrond stammered. "They were to meet west of Mirkwood once we were involved in enough skirmishes."

"Your father, Eärendil, is sailing the sky like the sea, guarding the Door of Night and the Gates of Morning. If they succeed in killing him, Morgoth might return and destroy the entrances for the sun and the moon," Galion summarised. He had finished cleaning the bone-breaking device and stepped forward into the light of the torches.

"'When the world is old and the Powers have grown weary, Morgoth, the Black Foe of the World, seeing that the guard sleepeth, shall come back through the Door of the Night out of the Timeless Void –" Elrond began.

To the surprise of both the Lord and the King, Galion knew to complete the sentence, "– all shall be darkness, for the sun he will turn to black, and the moon will no longer shed his light.' The prophecy of Mandos. Will it turn true?" Galion, who always kept his cool, seemed to be nervous. His wet hands were slightly shaking.

"If so, we will get help and Morgoth shall be defeated," Lord Elrond said but convinced no one. He was staring into empty space.

"Who will help us?" Thranduil asked. He stood up and looked at the Lord with a stern expression.

Galion answered instead, "Tulkas, a Vala of war, Eönwë, a Maia, and Túrin of Hador. He will be the one to rid us all of Morgoth forever."

"Lord Elrond," King Thranduil said, obviously not amused about the fact that he, the elven-king, had to ask someone else for advice. "What do we do now?"


I know that the story is getting complicated now. But don't worry, once Elrond has done his research, everything will become much clearer. Please let me know whether you want more plot advancement, sex scenes, or action like the fight at Dol Guldur and the interrogation in this chapter.



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