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.

Chapter 16

Thranduil returned to his private quarters where Galion was already waiting for him.

“You stay here as master of the servants,” Thranduil told him while he put down the elegant robes that he had been wearing. Galion had lain out his white armour for the ride and battle. It would be a long ride, so the cooks were busy preparing Lembas bread and other nutrient rich foodstuffs for the way.

“All the guards will be riding with us,” Thranduil muttered while undoing his belt.

“I will look after the place until you return,” Galion said and tried to hide that his voice was shaking. It was futile.

Thranduil put a hand onto his butler’s shoulder. “I will return. I do not intend to stay in Aman if we get there. Not just yet, at least.”

“Their last call was when the time of the elves was over and the fourth age began,” Galion reminded him.

“When the destruction of the ring had failed, we hardly had any choice but to stay and fight.”

“The ring is destroyed now.”

“Yes, and men, dwarves, and elves paid the price for that it was so late. Men are not ready yet. There are still many dangers in these lands and with the new peril we face, we cannot sail.”

“When you defeat Morgoth, you can. You can stay.”

Thranduil placed his forehead against Galion’s. The butler had to look up to him as Thranduil was much taller. “I will return, Galion,” he whispered. He gave him a long, dry kiss. “Since the death of my wife and the passing of Celebrimbor and Amroth centuries ago, I have not had any meaningful relationships. You are the only elf that still gives me pleasures like they did.”

“I serve you like I served your father and like a serve your son.”

“You are the most loyal elf in all of Mirkwood. That is why you remain here in charge and if I do intend to stay West, I will make sure that we will be united there,” Thranduil promised and kissed Galion again. “Because I do not want to lose such a trustful servant,” he added, and his kisses were now aimed at Galion’s cheeks and neck. The butler understood the hint and started to remove his clothes. When they both stood naked, Galion also started kissing Thranduil’s prominent cheek, his chin, his neck and licked and kissed his nipples. He spent a long time petting his chest and worked on his king’s penis with his hands in the meantime.

Thranduil, who was much taller and more muscular than him, picked him up with ease and carried him towards his bed. There, he placed him down sideward and, to his surprise, started licking and spitting on his penis.

“It is a shame we have had no time yet to work on you being submissive,” Galion noted.

“We will have time, Galion. I want to experience it. This alone would already be a reason for me to return.”

“There are other elves in Aman who could do that with you.”

“None of them knows my body like you do. None of them I trust like I trust you,” Thranduil said and took Galion’s cock and testicles into his mouth. He was very well trained and did so with ease. Then, he grabbed the bottle of oil from his night table which was nearly empty.

“I shall have it filled up at your return, my king,” Galion said, embarrassed that he had not done so already.

Thranduil did not reply but massaged the lubricant onto his butler’s penis and into his own arsehole which he entered with his fingers. Then he crawled over Galion’s body which looked tiny in comparison to him. He then took Galion’s penis and gently inserted it into his arsehole. It was quite difficult, and he applied more oil. He sat down slowly and moaned in pleasure. He still needed the help of his hands to keep it inside, but it became easier once both his butthole and Galion’s penis were used to the movement.

Thranduil pushed himself up and lowered himself again, rocking gently. He kept a steady pace then, leaning forward and kissing Galion. The butler was not very used to this tender behaviour of his king, but he welcomed it. He enjoyed the dominant and careful Thranduil all the same. If he wanted to spend some romantic time, however, he tended to see Lindir with whom he had established a sort of relationship in which they cared for each other and talked about their sorrows regarding the war and the daily losses. And Elrond. Galion pushed that thought away. He did not want to think about the half-elf now. He concentrated on his penis again that was stiff and in use. Thranduil rubbed his own cock in harmony with his movements. Galion felt heated pleasure when Thranduil bent forward and started kissing his face. When he came, his head was glowing red. He was so satisfied, he just lay there, watching Thranduil spread his juicy semen over his belly where it cooled his skin. Thranduil got up and dressed. Galion loved seeing him in the white armour that he had last time worn when denying the greedy dwarves help during the dragon attack that they had brought upon themselves.

***

Galion watched the elves ride away. It took him time to realise how silent the realm had become. Every able-bodied elf and she-elf had set out. Only a few cooks, gardeners, and weavers were left behind. Either because they were quite young and lacked training or because injuries from previous battles prevented them from fighting in one again.

If anyone wanted to attack them now, they would have the time of their lives. Galion chuckled sarcastically at that joke and returned inside the halls. He closed the big doors himself. It would be two days until he expected the messenger from the Iron Hills to return – either with the good news that the dwarves would join the fight or the bad news that they had invented new insults for the elves.

Lindir was waiting for Galion in the dining hall. It looked as if all life had left it which was unfortunately true. And so looked he, which was fortunately not true. Lindir had been told to remain behind as representative of the Rivendell elves. Rivendell would soon also be deserted as the elves were all going to war. The dark brown-haired elf wiped a tear away as Galion neared.

“I wish I could have gone with them. I feel useless,” he admitted.

“They trust you so much that if they all fail, you are the head of Imladris.”

“Which will be irrelevant if Imladris is destroyed.”

Galion stepped forward and hugged the fragile elf. “Come now,” he finally said. “We have a task to fulfil.”

Together, they climbed down into the lowest levels of Thranduil’s realm and into the dungeons. The only prisoner still left was Alatar, the blue Istari wizard. Galion opened the heavy prison door and put the torch into the holder at the wall. It was the only light source and the first time in days that Alatar had seen light. His body was saggy, he had not been getting any food. His wounds were not bleeding anymore, but his legs had been reduced to a lump of flesh and crushed bones. His arms were pale as the blood did not circulate through them anymore. He, himself, had entered a state of dreams and hallucination. A simple man would not have survived all this.

Galion took a chair to reach the ceiling and loosened the chains around the wizard’s wrists. He sacked down onto the floor with a dumb sound. Lindir stood silently and watched. He detested torture, and he knew that Elrond would oppose such means under normal circumstances as well. The instruments at the other side of the room made him think that they had lowered themselves to no better than dwarves.

Galion returned to Lindir and touched his hands. He bent forward and whispered into his ear, “desperate times require desperate measures.” Lindir was surprised that Galion could read him so well and he nodded hesitantly. “Let’s get this over with,” Galion added and gave him a quick kiss. Then he turned and bent down to the wizard. He grabbed his hair and pulled his head up. Alatar was breathing heavily, his head was whirring, and he could barely see. All he could make out was the silhouette of an elf.

“We have found your companion Pallandor,” Galion lied. “He did not surrender, so our king slayed him.”

Alatar did not answer. Apparently, he believed their story. “Morgoth will return,” he answered with great toil.

“He already has,” Galion informed him.

A wide smile appeared on the wizard’s face. “Then your days are numbered.”

“All of Middle-earth is riding to face him. Morgoth will fail just like you, Pallando – and Saruman.”

“Saruman?”

“Oh, you did not know? He also turned against us and he also died,” Galion hissed.

Lindir stood beside him and tried to hide his trembling. He had never seen this side of Galion. He had been so tender with him and now he looked so evil and willing to do anything to get information out of this wizard. He was shocked, but at the same time he cursed himself for falling for Galion so easily. He was a wood-elf after all. They were more aggressive and less wise than the Ñoldorin elves, and their traditions and time-passing were less evolved. He sighed. There was still something about Galion that triggered him, something that made his stomach turn whenever his brown eyes looked right through him.

“Morgoth will wipe you all out,” Alatar hissed.

Galion had not seen such hatred in an Istari before. The days without rest and light and food must have gotten to him. Or his journey to the East had changed him and made him forgot the ways of the Maiar.

“You want to know our plans, but I will rather die,” the wizard added in toil.

Galion stood up and walked over to the table where the torture instruments lay out. He regarded the many devices for a long time and then picked up something that looked like a pear on a stick. It was made out of metal and actually called a ‘choke pear’. The stick had a mechanism that could be turned, and the pear pieces would spread outside. He turned around and held it near the light so that the wizard could see the device.

“The pear of anguish,” Galion explained, “is put into the mouth and then turned to expand. It prevents one from speaking and it stretches the mouth until you are unable to speak. However, as we still need you to speak, I will not insert it into your mouth.”

He walked to the wizard who was still lying naked on the floor. His legs were crushed, and his fingers were broken. There was no way he could defend himself.

“Lindir, would you mind holding the torch nearer,” Galion asked for light. The dark brown-haired elf did as he was told. The pear shimmered in the golden light.

“Please,” Pallando whispered finally. “I just want to return to a shapeless form. I want to regain my powers and I want to leave Arda again. This world stinks of humans and dwarves and I am tired of the elves and their beauty.”

Galion listened but also prepared the metal pear. Without warning the Istari wizard, he pushed it inside the dry arsehole. The wizard screamed in pain and Galion had to grab his waist and use all his power to force the instrument inside. He waited until Pallando had caught himself and his shouts returned to a silent whimpering.

“Morgoth descends near the Weatherhills once Alatar has killed Tilion, the guardian of the moon. Through the Door of Night, he can return.”

“What is his plan then? Why return at the Weatherhills?”

As Pallando did not answer immediately, Galion started turning the screw which expanded the pieces of the pear. The Maia shouted in pain and hatred, but after a while, he continued, “Morgoth can only return in Middle-earth for that Aman is too heavily fortified. He will then destroy the land of the halflings to show the other inhabitants what they are in for. Once that fear has ripped through every living soul, he sails to Aman for vengeance on the Valar who exiled him. Armies that obeyed Sauron and armies that obey the darkness will follow him. He has hidden a ship that can carry every orc or goblin, every spider, every disciple of evil over the Great Sea. Once Aman is burning, the rest of Middle-earth will fall in no time.” He spat out every word with as much hatred as he was capable to. Galion expanded the pear further. Blood was dropping out of his hole and dripping onto the stone floor.

“I have told you everything I know,” Pallando shouted.

“No, you haven’t.” It was Lindir who spoke this time. He did a very good job in hiding his contempt regarding everything that was happening down here. It was the loss of Elrond that now drove him. “You know what Morgoth plans and where. How did you communicate with him as he was a prisoner of the void?”

“Was?” Pallando laughed. “You mean he has returned already.” He continued laughing even louder but it soon turned into screams as Galion turned the pear to its maximal spread. The wizard’s mortal body was covered in blood, his butt cheeks splashed blood into every direction.

“With the healing powers of the elves, we can make your body last for a very long time. Your spirit will never be free,” Galion threatened him.

Pallando gagged and yelled. “There are rifts in the Ekkaia. Things very small can pass from the void into our world and the other way round.”

“What things?”

“Crabain.”

“They used birds to send messages,” Lindir explained.

“Birds cannot fly that high,” Galion said.

“I bewitched them. I made them strong. I made them small.”

Galion stood up. That was what he had wanted to hear. He looked towards the open doorframe in which a shadow appeared. It was an elven messenger.

“I will over-bring the news,” he said and disappeared to ride after the Thranduil’s army.

“He was standing there the whole time,” Galion explained to Lindir who had looked confused. “I have found everything out that King Thranduil wanted to know,” he said to the wizard. “You are no longer of use for us.” He took the pear out and a flush of blood emptied onto the floor. Lindir and Galion went to the underground river that was in an adjacent cell and the woodland butler washed the pear. They returned to the wizard’s cell to put the torture device back into its place.

Galion then drew his sword and quickly put an end to the mortal shell of Pallando. “King’s orders,” he explained when he left the dungeons with Lindir who was in a bit of a shock. When they climbed up to the king’s halls, Galion put his arm around Lindir.

“I am not proud of what I have done,” Galion told him.

“I have been through war and I have done many things as well. But I have never inflicted pain on a sentient being on purpose,” Lindir replied. The halls were empty and there was no one who could have seen how Lindir began to cry.

“We’ve had peace for so long.”

“There was never peace,” Galion said and wiped the tear from his cheek. “Just no war.”

Lindir fell into a hug with Galion. Galion smiled and leaned his head against the Imladris steward’s. He held his hands tight against his back. “Soon, there will be peace,” he added.



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