Fear me. I have decided to just write whatever came to my sick little mind.
You see, I'm bored, alone on a saturday night and eating Cookie Dough Hagen Daz. FEAR ME!
I was talking to EhteLeA on AIM and I wanted to write something silly but not my fic. So I asked her for an idea and we decided to write ficclets/drabbles. Here is mine.
AH! Nothing says Easter like a rabid plotbunny sharing...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It's Good to be on Top
A Silly Ficclet by Sly-chan
Pairing: Thranduil/Celeborn, implied C/H.
Setting: Mirkwood Castle
Rating: PG-13
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was a lovely day in Mirkwood. The birds were shining. The sun was singing. ... Well, to any elf that was as hung over as many were in Mirkwood that morn, that last sentence would have made a heckuvalot of sense.
The servants were bustling around, trying to clean up after the previous evening's festivities. After all, it is not every day that the youngest prince of Mirkwood reaches his age of majority and neither is it every day that the "créme de la créme" of elven society all show up in one place to dance, sing, get hammered and shag.
Yes, Prince Legolas's 1000th year begetting day party was one that no one would soon forget.
Especially not a certain King of the Woodland Realm or a certain Lord of the Golden Wood.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Thranduil awoke with his head pounding and his body was sore in places he never thought it possible to be sore.
::What happened last night? I can't remember...::
The golden haired king tried to open his eyes but it was far too bright in the room. He let out a pained groan.
::The last thing I remember was giving Legolas his gifts and receiving a goblet from a rather pretty she-elf...::
Thranduil pressed a hand to his sore eyes. Just then, he felt the bed shift and a warm body press into his. His sapphire eyes widened in realisation: He was not alone in his bed!
He closed his eyes and slowly turned to see who was nuzzling into his back. All he saw was a flash of platinum hair and pale skin.
::That could be just about anyone here in Mirkwood or from Lothlorien...:: He thought. ::Why is it that having had one too many goblets of Lorien wine made my century-long abstinence from the pleasures of the flesh vanish in an instant?::
Just then, the figure awoke and began kissing his shoulder.
'Good Morrow, my pet. I trust you slept-' the figure could not continue his sentence as his storm-grey eyes widened in surprise. 'YOU AREN'T HALDIR!!'
Thranduil chuckled. 'Indeed I am not, Celeborn. And neither are you my long departed wife nor am I your own lovely wife. Say, how is Galadriel?'
Celeborn grinned. He knew his game.
'She is in Lorien. Probably plotting more ways to make my life miserable, as usual.' said the fair haired Lord of Lorien. 'You will not tell anyone of our little tryst or of my, er, "envolvement" with the Marchwarden of Lorien, will you Thranduil?'
It was Thranduil's turn to grin. He has the fair-haired Lord in quite an advantageous position for Mirkwood.
'I would not dream of angering your lovely wife. My lips are sealed. But should I ever need a favour...?'
'I will be more than happy to oblige.' said Celeborn, rolling his grey eyes.
'Besides,' began the golden-haired king. 'It is more than enough to know that I topped the Great Lord of Lothlorien!' He then let out a laugh.
'Excuse me?' said Celeborn, a little miffed at the comment made by the king. 'I do not think so. If anything, it was *I* that topped you.'
Thranduil scoffed.
'I'm sorry. I do not think so! I am a top and you are soooo a bottom, my dear Lord. You will just have to accept that fact and move on.'
Celeborn then looked at Thranduil's wrists and smiled.
'I am the bottom, huh?' He took hold of the king's wrists and showed it to him. They were red and raw, as though they had been bound. 'Do tops always get "bind burn"?'
Thranduil blushed as he was begining to remember some of the events from the night before.
There were fuzzy images of him being tied to the bed with a silk blanket and someone taking pleasure in his body.
Thranduil was about to conceed when he spoted the same marks circling Celeborn's own wrists. He went over and showed the marks to their owner.
'The same can be asked of you, My Lord.' he smiles smugly.
'Well, it appears that we are at a standstill, My King. Maybe we were both the top?'
They began to laugh. That was impossible. Every elf (and human) knows that any good slash pairing consists of a top and a bottom. Because two tops does not a bottom make and vice versa...
'Maybe so, Celeborn. How else would we explain this situation to the others!' Thranduil began to laugh when suddenly the door to the bedchamber opened.
'You could always say that the younger generation of elves and men are quite crafty and enterprising...'
Both Thranduil and Celeborn stared at the younger dark-haired (half) elf.
'ELROND?!?'
THE END
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That had no point. GO ME!
Happy Easter! *sends out bunnies and chocolate*
You see, I'm bored, alone on a saturday night and eating Cookie Dough Hagen Daz. FEAR ME!
I was talking to EhteLeA on AIM and I wanted to write something silly but not my fic. So I asked her for an idea and we decided to write ficclets/drabbles. Here is mine.
AH! Nothing says Easter like a rabid plotbunny sharing...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It's Good to be on Top
A Silly Ficclet by Sly-chan
Pairing: Thranduil/Celeborn, implied C/H.
Setting: Mirkwood Castle
Rating: PG-13
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was a lovely day in Mirkwood. The birds were shining. The sun was singing. ... Well, to any elf that was as hung over as many were in Mirkwood that morn, that last sentence would have made a heckuvalot of sense.
The servants were bustling around, trying to clean up after the previous evening's festivities. After all, it is not every day that the youngest prince of Mirkwood reaches his age of majority and neither is it every day that the "créme de la créme" of elven society all show up in one place to dance, sing, get hammered and shag.
Yes, Prince Legolas's 1000th year begetting day party was one that no one would soon forget.
Especially not a certain King of the Woodland Realm or a certain Lord of the Golden Wood.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Thranduil awoke with his head pounding and his body was sore in places he never thought it possible to be sore.
::What happened last night? I can't remember...::
The golden haired king tried to open his eyes but it was far too bright in the room. He let out a pained groan.
::The last thing I remember was giving Legolas his gifts and receiving a goblet from a rather pretty she-elf...::
Thranduil pressed a hand to his sore eyes. Just then, he felt the bed shift and a warm body press into his. His sapphire eyes widened in realisation: He was not alone in his bed!
He closed his eyes and slowly turned to see who was nuzzling into his back. All he saw was a flash of platinum hair and pale skin.
::That could be just about anyone here in Mirkwood or from Lothlorien...:: He thought. ::Why is it that having had one too many goblets of Lorien wine made my century-long abstinence from the pleasures of the flesh vanish in an instant?::
Just then, the figure awoke and began kissing his shoulder.
'Good Morrow, my pet. I trust you slept-' the figure could not continue his sentence as his storm-grey eyes widened in surprise. 'YOU AREN'T HALDIR!!'
Thranduil chuckled. 'Indeed I am not, Celeborn. And neither are you my long departed wife nor am I your own lovely wife. Say, how is Galadriel?'
Celeborn grinned. He knew his game.
'She is in Lorien. Probably plotting more ways to make my life miserable, as usual.' said the fair haired Lord of Lorien. 'You will not tell anyone of our little tryst or of my, er, "envolvement" with the Marchwarden of Lorien, will you Thranduil?'
It was Thranduil's turn to grin. He has the fair-haired Lord in quite an advantageous position for Mirkwood.
'I would not dream of angering your lovely wife. My lips are sealed. But should I ever need a favour...?'
'I will be more than happy to oblige.' said Celeborn, rolling his grey eyes.
'Besides,' began the golden-haired king. 'It is more than enough to know that I topped the Great Lord of Lothlorien!' He then let out a laugh.
'Excuse me?' said Celeborn, a little miffed at the comment made by the king. 'I do not think so. If anything, it was *I* that topped you.'
Thranduil scoffed.
'I'm sorry. I do not think so! I am a top and you are soooo a bottom, my dear Lord. You will just have to accept that fact and move on.'
Celeborn then looked at Thranduil's wrists and smiled.
'I am the bottom, huh?' He took hold of the king's wrists and showed it to him. They were red and raw, as though they had been bound. 'Do tops always get "bind burn"?'
Thranduil blushed as he was begining to remember some of the events from the night before.
There were fuzzy images of him being tied to the bed with a silk blanket and someone taking pleasure in his body.
Thranduil was about to conceed when he spoted the same marks circling Celeborn's own wrists. He went over and showed the marks to their owner.
'The same can be asked of you, My Lord.' he smiles smugly.
'Well, it appears that we are at a standstill, My King. Maybe we were both the top?'
They began to laugh. That was impossible. Every elf (and human) knows that any good slash pairing consists of a top and a bottom. Because two tops does not a bottom make and vice versa...
'Maybe so, Celeborn. How else would we explain this situation to the others!' Thranduil began to laugh when suddenly the door to the bedchamber opened.
'You could always say that the younger generation of elves and men are quite crafty and enterprising...'
Both Thranduil and Celeborn stared at the younger dark-haired (half) elf.
'ELROND?!?'
THE END
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That had no point. GO ME!
Happy Easter! *sends out bunnies and chocolate*