They had come across the stranger by mere chance and if they hadn't then he would have perished for sure for the spiders had him cornered with no chance of escape. And yet he didn't seem to care, as if he thought he could have fought them off on his own, with just an old harp and a small dagger. The guards who found him brought him back to the palace, it was the king's order that every trespasser was to be brought to him for interrogation. The stranger was a noldo beyond doubt, very tall and rather pale with long black hair but he did look .like a wreck. He was skinny and dirty, his clothes mere rags and his hair incredibly enough tangled and he had lice! He acted more or less like someone out of their mind and so the healers had to go to work before he was to meet the king.
They washed him and he didn't struggle, he just passively accepted it and seemed to be completely in his own reality and they managed to comb through the hair and get rid of the lice. Then they fed him and gave him wine to drink and by now they all knew who this was. It couldn't be anyone other than the second son of Fëanor, the famous minstrel, Maglor. He had the burned palms and the harp was obviously very old and precious and the very idea that he was still alive was perhaps shocking to some but it didn't make it less real. He was there, flesh and blood, and everybody felt a bit awestruck. Many came to see him, most were just curious since they only had heard of this elf in stories while others had lost family members or themselves been present at the kinslayings and these were often filled with resentment or even hatred. But after having seen this creature few managed to hold onto their anger any more, this was one elf who had suffered a lot, one carrying the guilt and blame of a whole race upon his shoulders and he had been punished enough.
Even the ones most furious and cold hearted changed their point of view, there was no point in blaming him, it wouldn't matter anyhow. The ellon was mere skin and bones and the healers were in shock of his bad condition, he couldn't have been eating anything but nuts and berries for years. The rags he wore were of mannish origin and terribly rotten and his feet were calloused, he had probably been walking barefoot for ages. This was something none had ever expected to come across, a living relict of a time long gone, a memory of days filled with grandeur but also horrors. The only thing which seemed to rip him out of the trance like state he was in was if anyone touched the harp, then he would return to reality and for a few seconds look like a lost child, utterly confused and terribly frightened. The healers feared that he had lost his connection to the world completely but gradually he became more aware of his surroundings and started to answer when spoken to. At first it was just a few broken words, most in quenya or languages none understood and then he managed to form short sentences.
The healers gave him the best food available, smeared ointments onto the dry and cracked hands and feet, oiled his hair and cut away the most damaged parts of it. He was kept in the infirmary and made no attempt at leaving the room they had placed him in. He would sit there with the harp in his lap and just stare out into nothing most of the time but at times, when he slept, they would hear him mumble words and names of those long gone.
The king came to see him just hours after he was brought in and he kept visiting every day but the dark haired minstrel didn't seem to even know that Thranduil was there. The healers were a bit nervous, Thranduil had always hated the Fêanorians intensely and they worried that this ancient anger would blossom yet again but it didn't seem that Thranduil was angry at the noldo. He seemed to be more fascinated, harbouring a sort of curiosity like the one felt by people who witness an accident. You may not want to, and yet you feel compelled to watch, to investigate.
Maglor slowly recovered, the food and the care soon had its effect and now it became very apparent that the old stories of the beauty of the sons of Fëanor weren't lies after all. He was still lithe but no longer gaunt and he did get better at a speed which puzzled the healers. The elves of aman had to possess some abilities few others could even dream of. Thranduil came for a report every day and the healers had started giving Maglor books and scrolls to keep him occupied. The empty gaze disappeared and was replaced by keen intelligence and yet he didn't ask to be allowed out of the room. He would often sit there, staring at his scarred palm and there was such a sadness in the grey eyes that the healers couldn't find the heart to ask him any questions..
Then one day the king came to the room and he had brought some books, the minstrel sat by the hearth and he was playing the harp absentmindedly. Someone had replaced the broken and ruined strings and now the instrument did sound absolutely wonderful. The more he played the more sane he became, it was strange but true. The music sort of lured the old personality and vigour forth and restored him. This time he did greet the king with a polite bow and Thranduil stared at the tall ellon with narrow eyes. The broken wreck was gone, now he did look normal and more than that, he was beautiful in a manner the king hadn't seen in ages. You could see some of that beauty in some of the noldor elves who lived in Imladris but in Maglor it was so much more apparent, more profound. It was like comparing an ordinary hackney with a thoroughbred.
Thranduil stood tall, held his chin up. "Do you know who I am?"
Maglor touched the harp, a sort of smile did glide over his face for a moment. "Yes, the king of these realms, the son of Oropher"
Thranduil tilted his head. "Did you know my father?"
Maglor shook his head. "No, I only heard of him, I never dealt with…other realms"
Thranduil did remember that Maglor never did partake in the attack on Doriath, neither did Maedhros. They both tried to stop their brothers from marching on the kingdom. But the attack on Sirion? Oh there both had been fighting. He tried to feel anger or even hatred, but he couldn't. It was so long ago, and this elf had suffered for ages, the valar couldn't have found any punishment worse than the one he had forced upon himself. Thranduil sat down in a chair, he never let his eyes wander off the noldo, there were so many questions he wanted to ask, so much he needed to know. Maglor seemed to stare at his palm yet again, deep sorrow in his eyes. Thranduil found it hard to imagine that this elf once had been a king, just like himself. Not because he had coveted the crown and the title but because of circumstance, of the hand of fate. But once in a while you saw that old authority surface from underneath the bewildered expression and Thranduil felt an odd sensation of thrill.
What had Maglor been like when he was the high king? Rumors said that he had been the most mellow and level tempered of the Feanorions, and yet he had been a very determined and skilled ruler. Perhaps he had been able to see beyond that goddamn oath and see the greater picture, the other brothers had been so taken by what they had sworn that it became their everything. It surely had driven them all headlong into disaster. But Maglor was alive, still here, and Thranduil wondered why, and how it was even possible. There was a heavy silence and then Maglor stared at him, the grey eyes seemed to stare straight into his soul, to extract every thought, every secret and Thranduil felt startled to the core. Maglor smiled, a very slow and almost sardonic smile. He held his palm up, showed the scar caused by the burning Silmaril. "You know, everybody think that the goddamn stones burned us because of the kinslayings, that it was our greatest sin"
Thranduil had to wet his lips, Maglor was more than beautiful like that, he was like some sort of apparition, not really there and at the same time tantalizingly real. "What do you mean?"
His voice had grown hoarse, his throat tight. Maglor caressed the harp yet again, his gaze sharp but softer now. "They hallowed the stones, the valar. Or that is what people are taught to believe, that no evil creature could touch them without getting burned. It is wrong"
Thranduil frowned. "Really? But…"
Maglor stared at his palm again, the injury had to have been terribly painful and Thranduil felt a fleeting sting of pity, somewhat against his will. "If there was a Silmaril here in this room and you touched it the same thing would happen to you as to me and my brother. No, you haven't killed others of your own kin, but sometime in your life you must have done something wrong, something of which you feel no shame, but something of which the valar wouldn't approve and that, that is the core of this"
Thranduil frowned. "What are you saying?"
Maglor pulled the thick black hair away from his face. "Guilt and shame, or rather the lack thereof! If you feel no guilt, no matter how large or small the deed was, the stone would burn! You didn't have to be evil you see, you just had to be alive, flawed, to have sinned against the so called laws and rules the valar pushed down over our heads. If you knew you had done something which was considered to be bad and felt no guilt despite of this the stone would sense it and burn."
Thranduil tilted his head, intrigued and yet perplex. "So it didn't burn you because of the oath and the bloodshed?"
Maglor sighed. "No, not only that at least. Did we feel guilty because of what we had done? Yes, goddamn it, it haunted us every hour of every day. It ate us alive Thranduil, it turned us into wraiths of some sort. But the stones did burn us for another reason altogether."
The king felt confused, he had always been taught that the gems had punished Maglor and Maedhros because of the blood they had shed. The minstrel took a deep breath. "You know, Morgoth too got burned by the silmarili when he stole them, was it because he had committed horrible crimes against creation itself? No, it was because he felt no guilt, no shame!"
Thranduil felt his heart speeding up, in the light from the hearth the passionate expression on Maglor's face was haunting, alluring like few other things he had seen. "So what did you do then, of which you felt no shame nor guilt?"
Maglor snickered, sat down and stretched the long elegant legs towards the warmth of the fire. "The valar had their own set of rules you know, and they forced them into our minds as if we all were naught but disobedient children, needing discipline. So much was considered wicked and wrong in their eyes but how could they really judge us when they never had experienced what it is like to be flesh and blood, to feel and yearn and burn? How can anyone who knows no passion judge others because of what their hearts feel? What they did to my father's gems was a crime, a way to ensure that only they themselves would be able to touch them since they have no feelings whatsoever!"
The last words came as a hiss and Thranduil did realize that Maglor did indeed hate the valar, with a vengeance it seemed. "Your sin was one of passion then I guess?"
Maglor cocked his head, smiled. The smile was a slow one, it bore darkness and yet there was a sort of pride in it. "You know the tales of my brother and Fingon the valiant?"
Thranduil nodded. "Yes, who haven't? They were…good friends"
Maglor snickered. "Oh don't be shy, everybody says they were lovers, and they were, at least for a while, before the whole silmaril mess."
The king had to nod. "I did hear the stories yes, was that the reason your brother got burned?"
Maglor sighed, for a moment he seemed to shrink, to lose some of the energy Thranduil felt exude from him. "No, I do think Maedhros did feel guilty over having seduced his cousin, he never should have taken it beyond the borders of mere friendship. Fingon was too pure, too innocent, he never gave anything less than his everything and Maedhros used him…as a substitute of sorts."
Thranduil had become very curious. "Then what?"
Maglor closed his eyes. "The valar punished us by "hallowing" the gems, it was the ultimate revenge for not letting them have them. They were jealous of our father and they feared him since he didn't fear them, didn't bow his head in submission like an obedient dog. He knew the truth, he saw them for what they were and he didn't give a rat's ass about their laws and rules. He taught us to never be ashamed of what we were, of what we did. That our hearts spoke a deeper truth than the nonsense the valar spewed out. I have never felt ashamed of what we did, neither did my brother for it wasn't wrong, true love between equals is never wrong, never a sin"
The king frowned. "Well, it is natural for family members to love each other?"
Maglor did scoff. "Oh, not the way we loved each other, we were lovers, as a matter of fact we did spent so much time together just fucking like wild beasts I bet the valar would have thrown us straight into the void had they known"
The king swallowed hard, he was shocked but not as much as he otherwise would have been, the feanorions had created their own rules and somehow he did understand, but he didn't really know why, or how. "Ah…and your father…"
Maglor stretched, crossed his legs. "Did know yes, it didn't please him but he accepted it. Maedhros and I were meant for each other, there was no other truth than this"
Thranduil bit his lower lip. "So when he killed himself…"
Maglor sighed. "A huge part of me too died with him, I think I did go insane, but I had been hardened by the time he spent as Morgoths "guest". I could cope without fading, I guess I am stronger than I once imagined possible"
Maglor stared at the king again, his eyes shining in the light. "When Fingon found him and returned him to us I was so grateful I still to this day feel that I am in debt, Fingon never learned of what we shared and I don't think it would have mattered if he did. He was just like that, too good for this world really"
The minstrel put the harp down, his eyes distant. "When Maedhros did recover I did discover that he had changed, a lot. It was as if he in some manners no longer was the same person as before and to begin with it did bother me, until I got used to it"
Thranduil tried to remember all the things he had heard of Maedhros, after his rescue in special. "What do you mean?"
Maglor leaned forth, caught the king's gaze with his own. "Enough about me and my brother, you too have done things the valar would deem as sinful, I can see it in your eyes"
Thranduil swallowed hard, leaning back against the chair, feeling a bit trapped. " Uh…well"
Maglor smiled, the smile was a seductive one and Thranduil felt a surge of that old urge, that old need he had repressed for ages. He was a king now, what he once had wanted and indulged in was no longer an option. The black haired noldo got to his feet, with the effortless elegance of a cat. The king could just stare as Maglor got closer, the grey eyes were filled with a sort of playful and yet serious mischievousness. " Oh come on, you can tell me, one king to another. Remember, I was a king when you probably were in diapers on your mother's lap."
Thranduil did cringe, nobody had talked to him thus for ages but instead of getting angry he felt almost giddy. It did remind him of just that time, back in Doriath when he wasn't even a prince but just another young courtier and free to do whatever he pleased. The freedom he had enjoyed back then was a sweet memory now when he had none whatsoever. Maglor went over to a table in the corner, a decanter filled with wine stood there and he filled two glasses, carried them over and gave Thranduil one of them. "Get it off your chest, I bet the valar would regard even the most pious of us as a cesspit of sin, and if I my memory doesn't trick me now I did hear quite a few rumours regarding Doriath that would have made Manwë himself choke on his nectar"
Thranduil had to cough, oh those rumours, indeed he remembered them, and the worst thing was that they weren't just rumours. There had been a core of truth in them. Maglor smirked, raised his glass in a sort of salute. " I can see that you know of this yes?"
Thranduil swallowed hard, Maglor did exude a sort of power he rarely had come across, a sort of natural authority which collided pretty brutally with his life as a musician. Thingol had owned something similar, he made you want to submit to his will just by being present. Maglor had the exact same energy, just so much stronger and Thranduil did find it odd that he should respond in such a manner to someone he after all ought to hate. But he never had considered Maglor the worst of the sons of Fëanor, he had always been the more mysterious one, the one who possibly could have turned the tide hadn't the rest of the bunch been so driven. "Yes, the rumours were well known, even back then"
Maglor placed his glass on the table and his eyes did glide over the king, and his expression seemed to indicate that he did like what he did see. "It does not surprise me, you elves of middle earth are the lucky ones, you may not think so but you are. You never had those goddamn valar breathing down your neck, you could do pretty much whatever you wanted and never feel bad about it"
Thranduil scoffed. "I think very few are able to see it that way"
Maglor nodded and the smirk returned. "So, what did you do? What sins have you buried in your past?"
The king took a deep breath, the minstrel's voice was honey sweet, so smooth and he fought the urge to confess for a few seconds. He and Maglor were equals, both were royalty, both ancient and both had survived the ages by sheer force of will. And both had lost much, maybe even too much. He shouldn't accept a son of the accursed Fëanor as an elf of equal rank and status but couldn't help it. They were more similar than anyone could have imagined by the first look. He had to stare down at the floor, those grey eyes, they did drill into the very fëa and the odd light in them seemed almost supernatural. He wanted to give in, to submit, to allow someone else to rule, to be in control. Maglor was so beautiful and he hadn't felt the touch of another being in a very long time. His beloved wife had never understood that need in him and he hadn't even tried to introduce her to that sort of activities, she wouldn't have understood and more than that, she was raised to submit herself to her husband, not to dominate him in any way, not even in the bedroom.
Maglor sauntered over and suddenly the king felt an elegant hand on his chin, lifting his face up. "You do not need to speak, not really. I can see it in you, as I saw it in my brother when he was returned to me"
Maglor leaned forth and Thranduil was kissed, it was not like any kiss he had been given before, it held so much, so many promises, so much passion and such fire, such consuming maddening fire. He gasped into it and a hand snaked its way around his head and grasped onto his long silky hair, pulled his head backwards with some force but not hard enough to become frightening or threatening. It was just a demonstration of power. It made his knees feel like jelly and his heart did speed up. He just couldn't do this with any of his subjects, it was below him, unthinkable. But this…oh Eru, he had longed for someone bold enough to be in control, to take the lead. He was getting hard and Maglor did kiss him again, rather hard. He found that he was kissing the minstrel back, almost desperately. "My oh my, you really are starved for attention now aren't you?"
He tried to gather his thoughts, to control the storm which suddenly was seething within him. "Not here, please"
Maglor smiled, caressed his cheek with a rough hand, and it sent shivers down the king's spine. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him thus. "Then do show me the way to somewhere more private"
It was a question and yet a command and Thranduil got up, they were of equal height and Maglor gestured towards the door. The king drew a deep breath and walked towards it and the minstrel followed as a silent shadow. Oh Eru, what was he really doing? Where had his sanity gone? He did then remember other hands touching him, hands which probably treated him with far less respect than Maglor would and the giddy feeling returned. He walked through the less used corridors until he stopped in front of the backdoor to his own private chambers. Maglor pulled him close and kissed him again, a demanding kiss and yet it wasn't without gentleness. "If you let me enter your rooms you are to be warned first, I will not be disobeyed, and I will not be questioned, understood?"
Thranduil nodded, his throat too dry for him to answer. There was a sort of spark passing between them, a silent understanding of who and what they were, of what they both wanted and needed. Maglor pushed the door open and they entered the chambers, they were not very large in spite of what everybody believed but luxurious and elegant. Maglor smiled, a smile of genuine appreciation. "Very beautiful, I must admit I always found the taste of the dark elves more pleasing than the stiff style of Aman. It was gaudy in my eyes, too many gemstones and too many colours at once."
Thranduil kept his eyes lowered, what would the minstrel do now? "Thank you"
Maglor removed the crown gently, put it on a rack on a table and tilted his head. "So beautiful, so cold. I wonder what I have to do to make you moan? Where your sensitive spots are…I guess I am to find out"
Thranduil felt a shiver run down his spine, it had been so long…Maglor did admire the rooms for a few moments more, smirked again when he saw the king's huge bed and he bit his lower lip. "I think this will be interesting, for us both. Are you ready to obey?"
Thranduil should have felt nervous, after all, this was a fëanorion but he felt that Maglor never would harm him intentionally. "Yes"
Maglor grasped him by the chin yet again, stared him straight into the eyes. "Good, strip"
Thranduil swallowed and started to unbutton his outer robes, he couldn't remember having undressed in front of anyone for centuries, not even his butler. The silent dominance and power or Maglor's voice had made the order more of a promise really and he longed to be touched by someone like that, powerful, wise, ancient.
He fumbled, feeling nervous, anticipation and a touch of uncertainty battling for dominance within. Maglor just watched with his arms crossed across the wide chest as the king undressed. Even wearing the simple garments given by the healers he did manage to look majestic and regal and by Eru, he was handsome. It was a sort of beauty very few possessed, even among elves. He was very masculine and yet pretty and the shape of the body told of the battles of old. Maglor had been a warrior, not just a singer. Thranduil did very much want to see what was beneath the bluish grey robes Maglor had been given. At last the king was naked and Maglor did tilt his head, staring like someone staring at a horse for sale at an auction. "I wasn't wrong then, you are absolutely delectable and I will truly enjoy ravishing you"
Thranduil held his breath and Maglor did send him a rather stern look. "Kneel"
The king let his breath out in a hiss and then he did obey, slowly and he tried to be elegant even if some part of him did protest. He wasn't used to kneeling, he hadn't been kneeling for anyone since his youth. Maglor smiled, a pleased expression within his eyes. "Good, I can see that you haven't forgotten how to be obedient."
The former minstrel reached out, let his fingers run through Thranduil's long silvery blond hair. It felt good, and he fought the urge to close his eyes in delight. Maglor smiled and let go, then he leaned casually against the table. "Now you can open my pants, but keep your hands by your side, I will not be pleased if you move them"
Thranduil took a deep breath, it would be difficult to say the least, but he wanted to please, to see what he could achieve. He leaned forth and started working on the sash holding the robes together, using his teeth. When the robe parted he went to work on the drawstring of the pants and he managed to open them. He felt the scent of the ellon the whole time, it was musky and a bit alien, but not unpleasant at all. And he did feel the warmth of Maglor's skin and felt him breathe, it felt odd being this close to another living being again, so intimately. Maglor looked down, eyes glazed with lust and there was a faint flush visible across his cheeks. "Eru's mercy, you are so very lovely like that, on your knees"
Thranduil finally managed to free Maglor's cock and he had heard that the elves of Aman usually had completely hairless bodies but now he did see that it was true. And the son of Fëanor was rather well endowed too, and clearly aroused. Maglor nodded. "You know what to do"
Thranduil swallowed and decided to do whatever he could to see the minstrel undone, he nuzzled against a slender thigh and managed to pull the pants even further down using his chin before he planted some soft kisses onto the soft skin around the black haired ellon's cock and balls. Then he nipped at the same spots very gently and Maglor hissed and tensed up. "Oh I was right about you, you do know how to do this!"
Thranduil smirked and started licking instead of nipping and he was careful not to actually touch the by now leaking cock. He could feel Maglor tremble and he remembered all the tricks he once had learned. It felt like it was a whole different life and he suspected that not even Maglor could suspect that he was this good at these activities. Maglor just heaved for air, a hand came caressing the blond's head, it was shivering ever so slightly. "Yes!"
Thranduil fought the urge to snicker, Maglor could be the one giving the orders but the one really controlling this was him, if he wanted to he could do a lousy job but he had always been a perfectionist, no matter what he did. He licked slowly from the base of the cock to the head, in one smooth movement and heard Maglor let out a gasp. Then he let his tongue swirl around the head and tasted the slightly bitter pre cum. It wasn't too bad, he had tasted way worse and he repeated the movement and the minstrel was grasping onto the table with one hand and the other still lay on his head, as encouragement and possibly for support. Thranduil hadn't don't this for a very long time but he did remember how to relax and he opened his throat and took Maglor in the whole way in one go, he felt his nose bump against the dark haired ellon's pelvis before he started to suck and used his tongue for all it was worth.
Maglor threw his head back, his face contorting with pleasure and Thranduil could feel that he fought a hard battle against the need to thrust. The sinda continued using a very steady rhythm and he felt how his own body was crying for a release. The arousal was spiked by the fact that this was such an unexpected situation, and the mere idea of what others would say if they had seen him thus made him growl with glee. For once he wanted to be something else than a king, other than a ruler. He wanted to be allowed to be just flesh and blood, to give in to his own needs. He continued until Maglor tensed up, the grip on his head became tighter and the minstrel let out an odd choked sound. Thranduil hummed around the member pushing against the back of his throat and Maglor keened, then he came hard. Thranduil had to keep swallowing for the noldo did come a lot and Maglor pulled out before the last jet of seed left him and watched it hit the king's face. Thranduil closed his eyes and grimaced, it felt rather uncomfortable but he did endure, he had no problems accepting this, not now.
Maglor moaned a few times, eyes distant and the expression one of extreme bliss, he was swaying slightly and his grin was almost sheepish. "Oh Eru, I cannot remember the last time I did come, you did very well"
Thranduil remained on his knees, what was next? He was still achingly hard and wondered if the minstrel would offer him a release or not. Maglor smiled and caressed the blonds chin. "Do not wipe your face, I want to see my spend drying on that perfect skin of yours."
The darkhaired ellon sauntered over to a table by a dressing mirror, it did contain some brushes and other grooming equipment and he did find a bottle of hair oil, returned with it and held it up so that the kneeling ellon could see it. "I am not done yet, I want to enjoy that gorgeous body of yours, in every manner possible."
Thranduil swallowed, right, he was in for a lot more than he had expected then. Maglor uncorked the bottle and handed it over to Thranduil. "Prepare yourself, I want to see you fuck yourself with your fingers"
Thranduil nodded and kept his eyes lowered, it was a very very long time since he had had anything up there, he wondered if he at all would be capable of doing this but he had to try. He spread his legs and poured the oil over his fingers, let them slide back and forth a bit to slick himself up before he carefully tried to push one finger in, with a groan. Maglor nodded. "That is right, keep going but don't you dare to come before I tell you to."
Thranduil whimpered. Now that was a hard demand, he was so close already, his entire body tingling with arousal and he felt as if his skin was three times more sensitive than normal. Maglor did remove his clothes entirely, and he was a wonderful sight, Thranduil wondered if it was possible to come just by seeing someone that gloriously handsome. Maglor walked over to Thranduil and kneeled behind him, watching how the king kept slicking himself up, pushing in with one finger, then two. It was rather difficult and it did hurt a bit but he was no coward, he could do it but when Maglor started to caress his sensitive ears with slender fingers he was sure that this was it, he was going to disobey and come there and then!
He managed to hold back with a groan, his entire body taut as a bowstring and Maglor chuckled and reached down and around the trembling ellon, squeezed a nipple with a technique which told Thranduil that yes, Maglor had been a true master at this, and still were. Holding back was the hardest thing he had ever done! He was leaking heavily, his cock slick with his own pre cum and it had even wetted his balls, which by the way were aching. Maglor purred. "Keep going, get nice and open for me, you need to be prepared if I am to fuck your oh so gorgeous ass. It would be a shame to damage such an exquisite specimen now wouldn't it?"
The dark haired noldo smacked him lightly over the rump as if to prove his statement and Thranduil moaned loudly. It did sting but that pain only added to the sensations, and he did speed up his efforts, on purpose avoiding his hidden pleasure spot for that would have made him come undone in seconds. Maglor was humming softly, warm hands sliding up and down the king's back, pulling his hair out of the way, soft kisses and small bites being placed along his spine. Thranduil was panting, his body trembling and Maglor whispered into his ear. "I wonder what your people would think if they knew of this? Would any of them be able to imagine their cold and controlled king thus, trembling with need?"
His hair was grasped and his head yanked back, a rough kiss was planted on his neck, then Maglor continued to suck on his eartips and Thranduil let out a hoarse gasp, his body covered with a thin layer of sweat and he felt more alive than in a very long time. He kept using his fingers and suddenly Maglor added a finger to them. He kept pouring more oil over his hand and soon he had added yet another one and Thranduil felt stretched to the point of near agony, the noldo chuckled in his eat. " I think you may be ready now, care to find out?"
The king didn't even have time to think before he was grasped by the hips and tilted forwards until his chest hit the carpet and his rear was turned up. The noldo's voice was husky, rough. "You are a sight worth dying for like that"
Thranduil didn't have time to answer for suddenly Maglor simply pushed in, all the way in one hard thrust and the sinda let out a shrill cry of sheer shock. It burned, and it felt as if he was about to be split in half. It had been too long since he allowed anyone to take him and even if he did remember how to relax his body did respond with shock. He was seeing stars and sparks and he had a hard time breathing, the sensation simply too much. Maglor was panting. "Remember, no coming before I tell you to"
The king tried to nod but his head was held down by a hard hand and Maglor started to thrust. The agony mixed with intense pleasure each time the noldo hit his prostate and it was no way he could hold back now, and yet he did. He was slick with sweat and heaving for air and he was dizzy, the world had shrunk to this very room, it was all that there was. Maglor pulled him up, had him pressed against his chest and dragged the king's head back, bit the back of his neck, hard enough to almost break the skin.
Thranduil let out a wail, his body ablaze with sensation, his hands trembling as he grasped onto his own thighs to support himself. Maglor aimed for that hidden gland on purpose and Thranduil felt his eyes roll up. "I..I…"
Maglor chuckled. "Oh no you don't"
He grasped onto Thranduil's cock and slid the hand down, pressed against the base and the sinda felt how the overwhelming sensation of orgasm swept over him in a powerful surge and yet he didn't spill, he could just whimper and Maglor leaned forth and bit him yet again, this time on the other side of his neck. He would have to wear high collars for a while, or else this would be very visible. Thranduil was still rock hard and aching and he allowed himself to be manhandled like a sack of potatoes, he felt boneless and weak and Maglor pulled out, turned his lover around and grasped a round pillow from a nearby couch and placed it under Thranduil's rear before lifting the long strong legs up around his own body and then he plunged back in. He kept the same rhythm and the sinda almost screamed as the sensations yet again seemed to reach a peak from which there was only one escape. Maglor reached down, stopped him again and now the king was a whimpering mess. Maglor smirked. "Do you want to come?"
Thranduil was clawing at the carpet, at the pillow, arms shaking, chest heaving and hips shuddering. "Y..yes…please…"
His voice was barely audible, he was so trapped within his passion he couldn't think anymore. Maglor looked almost divine like this, sweaty, hair sticking to his skin, eyes glazed by pleasure, teeth bared and hips thrusting with an energy which was nothing short of amazing. Surrendering to him was no shame, it was sweet, exhilarating, like a heady wine of which you couldn't drink your fill no matter how hard you tried. "Well then so, you have been very obedient"
Maglor reached down and started stroking the king's aching member in rhythm with the thrusts and aimed for the spot within the trembling body which brought such delightful pleasure and Thranduil was sure the world for a moment stopped spinning. It all came crashing down, he arched back, helpless as his body convulsed into the strongest climax he could remember ever having had. Maglor stifled his scream with a hand, or else the entire palace would have heard it, and the sinda was close to passing out. Maglor did thrust two times and then he too came, growling as he rode out the orgasm, clasping onto the shuddering sinda.
Thranduil did come down very slowly, he felt light as a feather and doubted that he was able to move even an inch. He felt how his own seed had coated his belly and chest and Maglor reached down and licked at some of the come, with a wicked glimpse in his eyes. "You taste sweet, and you are indeed delectable, I was certain of that and my was I right. Imagine, the king of the woodland realms, so debauched, thoroughly fucked by a wandering minstrel. I don't think anyone could even imagine such a sight, such a wonderful beautifully depraved sight."
Maglor got up onto his knees, he tilted his head. "I bet you have a bathroom hidden here somewhere, we do need to get rid of some fluids before we start reeking to high heavens"
Thranduil just laid there, in a haze, he was aching but it was a pleasant ache, one which was most satisfying. "It is the door to the right"
Maglor grinned. "You look like a wrung out washcloth, Maedhros also did look that way after our little…encounters"
Thranduil nodded slowly. "No fucking wonder, you are amazing"
The noldo bowed with a humble expression. "Thank you, and likewise. Who would have known that a king could be that submissive?"
The sinda just sighed and closed his eyes in bliss, he felt renewed, revitalized and stronger than in a long time. "Will you stay here?"
The question came before he really had time to think and Maglor smiled slowly. "I will stay for as long as I am welcome"
The king sat up, slowly. "Then you will be staying here for a long time, I do need you Maglor"
The minstrel reached out, stroked the long silvery blond hair with a gentle gesture. "We need each other Thranduil son of Oropher, and that is the truth of this"
He got up and helped the sinda get up. "Now, let's find this bath of yours, I am eager to see what we can do in there, do you by the way have any dog collars available?"
Thranduil chuckled and grasped the noldo's ass in an almost possessive manner. " Of course, the kennel master won't miss a few"
Maglor almost licked his lips. "Splendid, this is gonna be a very interesting stay, for us both"
Thranduil had to grin, now that was a statement he would support, wholeheartedly. Interesting indeed, he guessed he would have to use a pillow on his throne for quite a few weeks, or else everybody would notice his odd gait and sore ass. But it was a small price to pay and he put his arm around Maglor and kissed him. To finally have someone there to whom he could surrender without shame was a treasure, and this one he wasn't going to let go to waste, no way.
