#gildinbainas | Thranduil

[nvrcmplt]

[CHECK]: after an unexpectedly violent situation, sender frantically rushes to check if the receiver is okay, cupping their face to look closer. ( Hendrikson )

It was rather embarrassing but the pain in his shoulder from an arrow piercing his armour wasn't something he was so used to feeling. A mighty shot it was, close quarters due to his swords being of use at current times so Hendrikson knew of the dangers of receiving an arrow at point-blank. Still, the sensation rattled his swing - not enough to not make his blade cleave the enemy into two pieces but enough to make it not as smooth as they should be. Straightening himself out however, he merely hissed at the wound, staring across the field that was filled with minor scuffs, his people warding the enemy from their ambush and into the depths of their own choices. Slaughter was simple, a common thing for those that travelled the great lands here. Children were safe, the elderly with them and warriors strong, man and woman. Even their beasts of travel and aid turned hoof and jowls to fight off those daring enough.

It lasted a small moment, the sound of arrows overhead however still drowned it out. The golden staffs with white iron, the precision that no other race could master. The enemy felled, the lingering few that proved tougher the usual and rapid beasts that snapped fangs no longer stood tall or in chains. Hendrikson with his people lowered their weapons, those able rushing to aid those wounded as Hendrikson's gaze moved across the field to that of the Elven King Thranduil. Apology was upon the tip of his tongue, yet, he was silenced by their expression. Movement fast, agile and swift, as if the breeze itself was in person before him. The touch was cold, welcomed to his heated skin smeared in dirt and sweat.

The arrow was eyed, almost hissed at by Thranduil, but Hendrikson could only chuckle, raising his hand to cover that of theirs. "Worry does not look good upon you, King. I am standing strong, minor wound, barely feel it even." A confident charm in his tone, though his swords were placed down, stabbed through the grasslands and left to stand upon their own with a mild wince from agitating his wound. Letting his wounded shoulder rest with a limb arm, he straightens himself to turn his gaze to that of his people. Elves amongst them with care in their hands in the form of medical goods. "I thank you, King. May I ask of your hands to tend to my wounds?" May it be used to allow his people to relax from the new folk amongst them.

[sovereignofdeceit]

“  get  used  to  disappointment.  ”

"You say the words as if they were some eldritch weapon with which I were not already intimately familiar. Memory is the blade that strikes deepest...revealing that weakness was a mistake, you need not continue to remind me. You are nothing like him.

"Every dawn brings a new regret, Elvenking, and this one has proven no different."

[despairforme]

Oh, he managed to tease him enough to actually get a reaction? Thranduil probably realized that he was just feeding into what Nnoitra wanted from him. That look of DISGUST that he sent him as he looked over his shoulder was definitely funny to Nnoitra, who grinned widely, and pushed his fingers deeper, as if to reward him for giving him a reaction. Clearly, the other hadn't expected him to give him a hand-job. With how intimately Nnoitra was now touching him, it was all too easy for him to notice Thranduil tense up. That being said - he also hardened. Despite how he seemed disgusted by the whole situation he'd put himself in, his body was responding to the stimuli. Nnoitra just found that even more satisfying than if Thranduil had been begging for more.

When he added the third finger, the elf tensed up once again, but not in a bad way. He tipped his head forward, hands curling into fists in the sheets. A shuddered breath. So he liked being filled up with three, huh? Nnoitra rubbed them back and forth, and spread them apart to loosen him further. He could see his ears had turned bright pink.

❝ So ya like bein' all filled up, huh? ~ ❞ Of course he would comment. Tease him. Keep knocking down that stoic barrier of his. ❝ Three fingers feelin' good? 'S only gonna get better. ~ ❞ He fingered him for a good long moment, while he kept stroking his dick.

Eventually, he pulled out his fingers, and that marked the end of the foreplay. Nnoitra did continue to stroke his cock while he tried to decide which position to fuck him in. His favorite was generally the one they were already seated in - doggy style. He'd love to fuck him like an animal, and crush his pride like that. However, he'd ALSO love to watch his face and the humiliation on it as he penetrated him. For that - he'd have to turn him around. He decided that he'd start with a missionary position.

Turning him around was easy ( even though Nnoitra did go about it gently ). Nnoitra was so much stronger so it wouldn't do Thranduil much good to try to struggle against his hands. ❝ C'mon, show me that pretty face. ~ ❞ He grinned as he looked down on him. ❝ Lift yer hips a 'lil. ❞ If he didn't do it himself, Nnoitra would just do it for him. He got in position between his legs, and finally he could free his own dick from his uniform pants ( which were thankfully loose ). It didn't take much to turn Nnoitra on, so of course - he was hard already. ❝ I wanna see what kinda face ya make when ya take my dick. ❞ And Nnoitra didn't hesitate to proceed. He guided his cock to Thranduil's hole. He'd hope that the other would try to relax ( it would make it less painful for the elf ). Nnoitra added some pressure, to push the head of his dick past the first ring of muscles. And - of course, he would watch the other's face.

No. That's absolutely NOT what he was into. At all. This whole getting fingered thing seemed so beneath one who NEVER imagined he'd allow himself to be put in such a position. The very idea was laughable at best. Still, considering what he was dealing with at the present, there were some things that couldn't be helped. If he thought he got off by barking orders then so be it. So long as he actually followed through then who was Thranduil to make a fuss?

His next statement however, did earn a reaction. The elf king looked back over his shoulders shooting him a scathing look. As if HE would ever wish to drag something out that was so humiliating? If looks could kill, this on certainly would have yet Thranduil found himself looking away to hide the various shades of discomfort seeping through his normally stoic expression. He appreciated the cooperation on Nnoitra's part but this was completely new to the elf. No amount of prep was liable to prepare him entirely for all the emotions or feelings associated with such an act.

And then he tensed, completely startled by intrusive hands wrapping around his cock. It hung between his legs, somewhat stimulated by the finger moving inside him. If he didn't think about this whole ordeal being gross and humiliating, he could actually register the tingling or stirring within his anatomy. He supposed he should appreciate the effort here. It seemed that, despite Thranduil's earlier pessimism, the arrancar didn't want this to be entirely one-sided. Thranduil didn't expect to get anything out of this except a headache among other things, but his cock seemed to be responding slowly. That alone should make the annoying hollow grin even more.

He felt a third finger, and it had his face darkening with a hue that he wasn't accustomed to. The very, very hint of pink was from a combination of Nnoitra's crude tongue and the various stimulations happening at the present. That third finger however, managed to brush something that had the elf tensing in surprise. He nearly choked out a sound but instead, it was more of a deep intake of breath. The sharp gasp had him lowering his head again, fingers curling in the sheets. He doubted he would ever be stretched enough for Nnoitra, but his body seemed ready for something. The three fingers, while invasive, had managed to at least make him feel something other than disgust.

[despairforme]

What if Nnoitra was a hobbit?)))

❝ It's kinda hard imaginin' bein' short. Usually people tell me I'm more elf-like. Dunno why. ❞ Maybe Thranduil can confirm? @gildinbainas .

[elerondo]

@gildinbainas   /   continued

ELROND WANTS TO BE A WOLF . Was he not the most beastly among the fine lords and ladies of Lindon ? When night shrouds their journey in darkness, signaling a time of rest and recovery, it only serves to amplify the voice of his fathers.   « Do you know how a wolf pack travels ? »   Maedhros recounted one day,   « I will teach you, Elrond, so that one day you can be a greater leader than I. »   To do what the Fëanorians could not. Slay Evil. Take revenge.

The soundlessness of his breaths was a meditation on words long ago. His greatsword lócënehtar leaned idle at the head of the bed, the humming of inscribed runes heard only by himself. It was a weapon suited for a great many uses; Shielding, healing, killing — much like its Master. His hands are in front of his chest, ready to wield it and command his runes at any moment’s notice.

❝ If we were wolves, I would be the Alpha pack leader, ❞ and if he moved even slightly, Thranduil would hear the clank of chainmail beneath leather and cloth, so he doesn’t. ❝ Being the strongest, I am at the front of the pack, the vanguard. I will keep the watch, to strike first and kill all our enemies. ❞ The ease in which he announced it was like an instruction in the universe, quiet and deadly.

The gods have blessed Elrond with many gifts, as though to make up for everything they had taken away from him. His body was a study in traumatic childhood loss. Dissect him and one will find all the pits that his loved ones have left behind. Greatness was an expanse of a sanctuary to be carved into, gradually, painfully, always, and forever. Was this not the choice of immortality ? That fateful day, he had given himself up as a machine of the gods, whether he consented or not. Was this what it meant ❛ To rue the day you were born ❜ ?

But, must he ? Was there no fighting back against destiny ?

❝ I will protect you, Thranduil, ❞ he does not wish to lose another dear to his heart.

[sovereignofdeceit]

“  death  cannot  stop  true  love.  ” ( thran )

⚔ the princess bride sentence starters ⚔ | OPEN

"Ah. I take it that my love was not true?

"And you would make those words real, you would sacrifice that devotion with his very lips. How have I sinned against you, O King, that you would employ me as the weapon to strike him from my soul?"

[lured-into-wonderland]

She stopped her mare abruptly trying to locate, to face the voice. Nunnally was surprised. Perhaps more by the tone than by the words; so similar (but so different) to the voice she loved and feared most. It was the voice that was used to giving orders and having them fulfilled with no discussions and no hesitation. The King? But also that voice should not be claiming she was roaming their lands. She hesitantly replied: --

“If I were roaming through Your Majesty's lands...that would mean I am far away from home.” – and Nunnally did not believe in it. She did not believe that man was a king, but it was better to be careful. Especially that she suddenly realized she could not hear her escort. The girl patted the obviously agitated horse looking around. Another problem was that she didn't recognize the forest. Which was worrying – “Would Your Majesty mind stating the name and the place, where I am supposed to be?  As a courtesy to the royal princess…”

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆ || @lured-into-wonderland

"I'm going to assume you're associated with my good friends from Dale. Otherwise, you have some audacity to be roaming through my lands uninvited."

[sovereignofdeceit]

Brows rising slowly as he took in the almost certainly curated scene, Loki paused in the archway, arms crossed over his chest. The last time he'd seen such attractive posturing had been in a mirror, and he was not so proud that he could not admit to occasionally being bettered in the Game.

"You bait me, Elvenking." In far more ways than one, and he knew it. Though it was not the only story told, intention weighed heavily enough that he could feel the words unspoken here whispering promises against his skin. "When hospitality is shown in such a manner, how can one be expected not to explore?"

Rare was it that anyone had the privilege of seeing the Elvenking lounging about in the night hours and yet he could be found as so, form propped on his side while legs curved just slightly revealing a perfect angle to his frame. It was ever the dramatic pose for evening reading. Were it not for the book upon the rug before him, one could easily assume he was merely posing for a portrait. The long, sheer gown upon his frame glistened in the light's glow while long hair blanketed cheeks perfectly hiding high cheekbones and blemish free skin. He would not look up to address the intrusion; rather his legs would shift subtly, bare feet curling just slightly as he spoke in a tone that, despite the hour, still screamed 'royalty'.

❝Do you always find yourself wandering about the homes of those who show you hospitality?❞ --- || @sovereignofdeceit

[despairforme]

So the reason for Thranduil's passive state was FEAR? Had he been a better partner, he would've comforted him. Tried to put him to ease. Told him that he wouldn't hurt him. But - Nnoitra loved being frightening. Others SHOULD fear him. He was dangerous. To him, fearing him was a sign of respect. The only reason why someone would not be afraid of him was if they underestimated him. Or ( he supposed ), if they trusted him. But who would?

As he leaned closer to the elf's neck, he could feel the other's pulse quicken. Feel his nerves on edge. He truly feared that Nnoitra would take a BITE, didn't he? Nnoitra was tempted, but he could contain himself. For now. If he made him any more anxious, he'd soon be trembling.

❝ Nah, I don't think so. ❞ Nnoitra replied to the other's suggestion. He had tasted plenty of things that were ' new ' that didn't taste anywhere near as good as the elf. There were many different creatures out there for him to eat. Thranduil was so quiet. Almost as if he feared that raising his voice could somehow trigger Nnoitra into biting him. Like how you would speak softly to a wild animal, praying that they would not attack. ❝ I don't mind doin' all'a 'da work. ❞ It seemed the other really was too fearful to even move. Stating that he could do ' all the work ' was Nnoitra's way of comforting him. He DID prefer it when his male partners engaged with him, but he was no stranger to just having his partner lay there and take it.

❝ Lay down. ❞ Nnoitra ordered. Not strictly or sharply, but he expected his command to be followed. To help speed things along, Nnoitra used the grip on the other's hips to guide him backwards towards the bed. Then he'd ( gently ) push him until he dropped backwards. Seeing him on his back, his gown just barely covering his lower half, and his pretty silver hair spread across the mattress - it was satisfying. Nnoitra rarely had the pleasure of having such a good looking partner. Thranduil could be the beauty. He would be the monster.

Nnoitra joined him now, settling down onto the bed on his knees. His black hair fell forward. He pushed it out of the way. He would lean over the elf now, supporting himself on one hand, to touch his mouth with his vacant one. He had planned on shoving his fingers inside, but he quickly remembered his ambition to make this a somewhat pleasurable experience for Thranduil as well. Normally, Nnoitra would use his partner's spit as lube. If he bothered with lube at all. Sometimes he just tore his partner open instead. That, obviously, was not an option here. ❝ Yer so tense. We're gonna need somethin' better than saliva 'ta open ya up. ❞ The more scared he was, the more tense he'd be - and the more it would hurt. This type of foreplay was something he never bothered with, seeing as it was all for the sake of his partner.

❝ I'm guessin' tellin' ya 'ta relax ain't gonna help. ❞ WHEN had that shit ever worked? ❝ But we can start off with this. ❞ And with that, he dipped two fingers into Thranduil's mouth. Saliva first. Then he'd find some better lube afterwards. This room was made for the two of them to make good on their ' deal ', right? Surely there would be lube.

This was quite the unnerving experience for one such royal. Having control stripped away from him was not something he was accustomed to, let alone in this situation. Even being allowed to, at the very least, reach out and touch had done little to settle his nerves. If anything, simply hearing that Nnoitra's nails could tear him open with ease just made him even more nervous about this whole ordeal. Bad enough that this was about to be a first, but like this? And with someone like him?

He should have gotten drunk first.

Nevertheless, he found grey eyes narrowing some, not enjoying the way Nnoitra's hand was nestled around his throat. The sheer difference in strength however, is the only reason he kept his cool for the most part. Never flinching, he remained in place though he did manage to find his voice long enough to answer him.

"Oh I would certainly love it if you lost interest, but no, this is not part of some grand plan here to turn you off. You made it perfectly clear from the start how easily you could rip out my throat so of course I am going to stay in my place. Far be it for me to anger you and end up killed by accident."

Because he refused to reiterate the other concern about being a… ah to even think the word was humiliating. Him. A… no. He refused to even think it. He would call it 'less experienced' and leave it at that.

He swallowed hard, feeling ansty as the hand moved up, finding one of his ears and touching it. Such a thing was a good way to annoy most elves, but he kept that to himself. There were worse things than having his ears touched. Yet in the second he thought such, his mind quickly shifted. The closer Nnoitra got to his neck, the more quickly his pulse raced. This was more so because of his own paranoia and the inability to fully trust Nnoitra. Nothing was truly stopping him from having a bite and the way his thick tongue combed over smooth flesh had Thranduil biting his lip in an attempt to keep his composure. If he wasn't so concerned about being eaten, there may have been pleasure to be found in the gesture. Instead, it was drowned out by the anxiety, not at all helped along by the words to follow from his temporary lover.

"I have no idea why we… supposedly taste so good. Perhaps you only feel this way because it's…new.," he managed though very quietly. Finding his voice was proving difficult when he was somewhere in limbo between terrified out of his mind and anxious. There was no healthy medium here so he hoped that he could use Nnoitra's gentleness to get by. So far the other hadn't done anything to hurt him so… maybe… maybe he could deal. Not much longer now right?

The hands upon his hips meant that sooner or later, the gown would be on the floor and he'd be standing fully bare before the other. And the same could be said in return though Thran wondered if he'd be able to keep a straight face. He didn't make a habit of oggling men. It had never much concerned him in the slightest and yet he supposed today he would get his fill of it...in more ways than one. Even so, he waited, watching his every move. He made no effort to finish removing his clothing or Nnoitra's for that matter. Nope. He was trying to stay alive. If he wanted something more, he'd have to ask or do it himself.

[despairforme]

How stoic he was. Tense and stoic. Perfect attributes to break. When Nnoitra turned him around, he appeared unfazed. Nnoitra wondered if he would've worn the same expression if he had just bent him over and fucked him straight away. That was something he could've done - easily. He probably would've, if it hadn't gone against his not-so-solid ' plan '. The cold, disinterested expression of the elf broke for a moment, and surprise was portrayed. FINALLY the other was doing something, instead of acting like a statue. He lifted his hands to Nnoitra's chest. The touch was cold to him, since his iron skin was always warm - suppressing massive amounts of reiatsu would do that to you. Nnoitra was glad to find Thranduil not acting like a doll. So he COULD move on his own, huh?

That was confirmed when the elf sharpened his fingertips and scraped his nails down his chest. Nnoitra's lips parted to let big, white teeth show. That's more like it. Of course, there was NO marks left. Not a reddening of his skin. Nothing. Thranduil could've done the same with the sharpest of blades, and the result would've been the same. The surprised look on the other's face was incredibly satisfying to Nnoitra.

❝ If I tried returnin' that, I'd tear yer chest open. ❞ He placed a hand on the other's throat now, the touch still light. His index finger under his chin, keeping him from looking away, forcing him to looking up at his towering frame. ❝ Didn't think ya'd be this shy. Want me 'ta do ALL'A 'da work, huh? ❞ If Thranduil just wanted to lay there and take it like a real fuck-toy, then that was his choice. Nnoitra preferred for his MALE partners to have a little bit more... Life in them. If he'd wanted someone to just lay there, he would've picked a female.

❝ If yer trynna' make me lose interest that ain't gonna happen. ❞ It was a tactic that had been used against him before, when someone just wanted him to leave them alone, they would try to not give him any reactions, hoping that that would bore him. It didn't work, because it only made him more determined to break them. Nnoitra was not an impatient guy ( except for when he was really aroused ). Sure, he was an alpha and always ready to fuck, but it would take more than this to turn him on properly ( and his brain off, more or less ). He pushed his hand up further ( the touch was still light, he was being careful ). The only physical difference between Thranduil and a human was the ears. Nnoitra was touching one now. Why were they so long and pointy? FUCK her really smelled so good. Standing so close to him and breathing in his scent was making Nnoitra hungry. He was not one to deny himself anything, so he was leaning down again now, his teeth close to the other's neck. He WANTED A TASTE, but he knew he couldn't bite him without injuring him. He dipped his tongue out instead, where his rank was tattooed in a large, Gothic ' 5 '. His mouth had already been watering over so the trail that was left behind was wet. He somehow tasted even better than he smelled. Was it the immortality? Or was it just the softness of his skin? ❝ Why ya taste this good, hm? ❞ Once again, he touched his neck, this time only to let his fingers sort of wipe away the saliva he'd left on him. In the end both his hands ended up on the elf's hips. He was eager to fuck him now.

Up until now, it hadn't really occured to Thranduil just how much his life might be in danger. Granted he was a formidable warrior --- even more so than his own son. However, weapons were rarely kept upon his own form for a casual sunday afternoon. He had his Elvenguard while his own homeland was in the midst of a sort of peace. Few would dare tangle with an elf as old as he yet he couldn't have been more vulnerable if he tried. Stripped bare of everything, THIS was the most vulnerable he had allowed himself to be since the death of his wife. No one got to see him like this; never had one lain eyes upon him minus a set of swords within arm's reach. This was, for lack of a better phrasing, insanity on his part. Surely he was tempting his own fate by honoring some ridiculous wager, but he swallowed the sentiment; swallowed the reasoning lest he hate himself fully come morning. Instead, he focused on the fact that this likely wouldn't take long. This hollow likely just wanted to get off and be gone. If that was the case, then he'd be in his private quarters within the hour having a much needed rest. Until then however…

The silence was…unsettling to say the least. Nnoitra took his time taking in his scent as if he was about to enjoy quite the meal soon. That did little to convince Thranduil to relax and so his muscles remained tense as hands lightly touched about his lower back. He would only relax /some/ when he received verbal confirmation that he wouldn't be eaten. Not that he trusted Nnoitra. He didn't know enough about him to fully trust him, but as the other said before, he needed to pretend. He needed to pretend this was normal if he hoped to get through this.

❝That is… good to know.❞

Thranduil remained still, allowing hands to explore more of his exposed skin. Nnoitra was surprisingly gentle in his study although Thranduil still couldn't help but feel his body was being studied for other reasons.

There was a break in the touching, but Thranduil could hear very well. It would seem his partner had decided to undress as well. Thran watched out the corner of his eye as Nnoitra placed his own jewelry upon the dresser with the Elvenking noting how heavy it sounded. When hands finally reached for his waist, he was surprised that Nnoitra wanted them to face each other. He supposed he had it in his mind that he'd simply be bent over and taken like an animal. He was prepared for it, but what he wasn't prepared for was the… odd sort of attentiveness? Or something?

Grey eyes looked upon Nnoitra warily, as if trying to discern what this was all about. His eyes studied the Hollow's expression for a long time, searching for telling signs of deception. Eventually his gaze would fall towards the bare skin laid out before him. Nnoitra's skin looked smooth --- smoother than anything he had ever seen before. He gives Nnoitra one last, lingering gaze just to be certain permission was granted. Thranduil was not afraid of him per se, but his aura was… well, rather intimidating. Still…

The elf reached out slowly placing palms flat upon Nnoitra's chest. His expression changed in a manner that actually showed some kind of feeling outside of the stoic mask he held until now. Thran seemed surprised and without much warning, his own sharp nails slowly raked down the Hollow's chest, wanting to test his words. Nothing. Not even a scratch was left upon iron skin. The realization had him looking back at Nnoitra completely at a lost for words. This was... new, and even if he wanted to kill him ( which for now, he didn't ), he wondered if a regular blade would even nick his flesh.

Dropping his hands, he looked back at him curiously. His natural instinct was telling him to lean forward an DO things; touch, lick, kiss --- the usual things that he might would be doing if his partner couldn't eat him, but that thought alone had him rooted in place as if waiting to see what he'd be allowed to get away with. This... did not come naturally to him; this level of submissiveness. In all honesty this was killing him and if Nnoitra didn't set the ground rules soon, well, Thran was liable to test his luck a bit. Even though he reluctant to do this at all, that hardly meant he wanted to be a statue all evening either.

[despairforme]

The way he spoke was such a stark contrast to Nnoitra's own way of talking. The graceful indifference he was displaying was a taunt to Nnoitra. He was thrilled by the prospects of breaking it all down. It was going to be incredibly satisfying to hear him cry. Maybe even beg. Breaking down a person's facade was certainly one of the most pleasing aspects of fucking a more stoic partner.

He said he was not afraid ( though Nnoitra didn't fully believe that ). What he was concerned about, was enduring pain for someone he didn't care about. That was some romantic shit Nnoitra definitely couldn't relate to, as he didn't care about anyone, and he'd never been with anyone for the sake of the emotional connection. So that stuff was important to the elf, huh?

❝ Why don't 'cha just pretend then? That ya care 'bout me. If 'daz so important 'ta ya. ❞ There was a slight mockery in his voice. He found sentimental shit like this to be laughable, and also - he didn't understand it.

When he opened the door, Thranduil swept past him to head inside. This didn't match the other's words. If he didn't really want to do this, then why was he so quick to accept the room? Mah, maybe he thought there was no point in ' dragging it out '. Did he just want to get it over with as quickly as possible? If there was going to be ANY chance of the elf enjoying himself, they could had to take their time. There was no way he could take Nnoitra's size without some foreplay.

As soon as they were inside the room ( Nnoitra followed Thranduil inside, and closed the door ), the elf began to remove his clothes. Again, not really the actions of someone reluctant. He seemed to be wearing lots of layers ( as well as jewellery ), so this could take a while. Nnoitra only had his simple white uniform on. Stepping closer to the other, Nnoitra didn't hesitate to put a hand on him. He placed it against the other's lower back, as he leaned in over him to breathe in his scent. Elves smelled different from other species Nnoitra had met ( eaten ). ❝ I ain't never tried an elf before. ❞ He grinned. His other hand went up to touch Thranduil's hair, pulling it ( gently, for now ) aside to expose his neck. His keen senses could pick up on the flow of blood through his veins that lay there so tempting right beneath thin skin. ❝ Bet ya ain't never been with a Hollow before. ❞ His big teeth graced the other's skin, almost like a threat. Like he would bite him. He might do that - just not yet.

Thranduil half expected this deal to go up in flames; that perhaps the tiny pharaoh would have been chosen, if only because he had always been brave enough to take on people three times his size --- ( and even more impressively, get the better of them too. ) He had figured beautiful, brown skin and long, tri-colored hair would be more than appealing in comparison to a pale, ancient elf who was about as old as the reincarnated pharaoh himself. Both had centuries on them though one could never tell by looks alone. Only those astute enough to observe their way of speech and how they each carried themselves would be able to discern their TRUE AGE outside of oft ethereal appearances.

Nevertheless, A DEAL HAD BEEN MADE leaving Thranduil as the victim this time around. He was certain Nnoitra was smart enough to have realized that the Elvenking was far from happy. Nothing about this arrangement was how he envisioned certain things ever happening. After all this time, but… no matter. Between his own moral code and that pesky pride he inherited, backing out now was simply not an option. And as he followed along, his expression never indicating any feelings one way or the other, he would at least, respond to the question at hand. No sense in giving Nnoitra the silent treatment when things were guaranteed to get personal sooner rather than later.

"I am not afraid of anything pertaining to… carnal acts," he responded quietly. "But you do seem rather… girthier than most elves. I think anyone would notice and, if they have half a right mind, stop to ponder their life choices. I can see enduring needless pain with the potential for no reward for someone you truly care about, but… just because?" He went silent. There was little need to finish the thought. He was sure Nnoitra could deduce that if it were not for stubborn pride here, the Elvenking would have declined unless he could have been in charge. It was what he was accustomed to as King. This, in general, was going to be most difficult for him.

Thran hadn't really been paying attention to where they were going. Truth be told, it hardly mattered. Such a bawdy agreement did not deserve all the comforts a palace room had to offer.

Thranduil didn't even bother peering inside either. He simply swept past the alpha into the room, long gown sweeping the floor. There was a functional bed in a room that was decorated nicely for what it was. As an elf, Mirkwood was elegant but far simpler than anything a mortal palace might have within it. This looked plenty comfortable though, in his mind, he failed to see how that mattered for him anyway.

"It will do."

Quickly turning his back to him, Thranduil carefully removed the silver broach that sat center of his chest. It was the very piece of jewelry that held the shimmering cloak to his gown. He might as well begin undressing. With all of his own frills and jewels, he couldn't hope to ask the other to patiently endure the tediousness that was undressing a royal. Best he do it himself, as he wished for nothing to get broken or torn. He planned to leave the same way he entered this room ( being sore, notwithstanding ).

[despairforme]

The touch caused the other's body to tense. Nnoitra could tell there was a conscious effort to relax. He would not hold it against him if he was unable to do so. Most could not bring themselves to be calm in Nnoitra's presence, and certainly not when he was touching them. It was that underlying fear for their lives that did it. The trigger to escape. He was impressed by the elf's composure. Nnoitra touched his hair next. It was incredibly soft. He'd expected it to be - but somehow it was even more silky smooth than even his imagination could bring forth. To him it was almost like touching air. He could tell Thranduil did not welcome the touch. Tough luck. He still kept his composure though, exhaling softly. Impressive.

Nnoitra could smell the immortality in him. He didn't smell human, or hollow. It was a scent completely new to him. He breathed in his scent, teeth still close to his neck. He was immortal in the same way Nnoitra was. Time would not kill him. But - Nnoitra could tell from the softness of his body, which he could feel just by the light touch to his lower back. He could kill him with one bite. A warrior in his own right, for sure, but - so fragile. So fragile beneath Nnoitra's hands.

It seemed Thranduil knew. Perhaps he could even detect the predator in Nnoitra, who hungered for food. He was practically asking him to spare his life. He did it in a subtle way. Not cowering. Not pleading. Nnoitra hated cowards, so this attitude pleased him.

❝ Ya smell delicious 'ta me. ❞ No reason to hide that he would make a tasty meal. ❝ But I wasn't plannin' on eatin' ya. That ain't part'a 'da deal, yeah? ❞ The deal did not include food, and, in any case - Nnoitra had a plan on fucking the other options presented to him as well. He didn't think he'd get the chance if he ate Thranduil.

More of the other's body was exposed now. Nnoitra took the opportunity to touch. The hand that had been on the elf's lower back, travelled up. Feeling his spine. So fragile. Then his shoulder blades. He had a good build. Broad shoulders ( not as wide as Nnoitra's probably, but then again, who did? ). His skin was soft. Nnoitra knew he'd have to be careful not to tear it with his sharp fingertips. This was going to be a challenge. Being gentle didn't come natural to him. Did he even have it in him? He'd let Thranduil keep the remaining clothes for now. He knew that, if he started rushing, he'd lose patience and for sure injure him. Maybe even kill him by accident. He always lost his head when he was turned on.

He let him go now, and took a step away to remove his own jewellery. He didn't wear nearly as much as the elf, but he did wear six golden bracelets. Three around each wrist. He pulled them off, one at the time ( they weighed a lot, seeing as they were not actually made of gold, but of condensed reiatsu ). He placed them down next to where Thranduil had left his crown. Then he opened his uniform jacket, and pulled his thin arm free. He let the jacket drop to the floor. Now they were equally undressed.

Nnoitra stepped closer again, this time placing his hands on the elf's hips, to turn him around, until they were facing each other. ❝ If ya ain't never been with a Hollow, then ya ain't never touch hierro before, huh? ❞ Nnoitra's skin. His ' hierro ' ( iron skin ). Nnoitra gestured to his chest. It would feel firm to the touch. Smooth, but firm. Almost like a statue. ❝ Ya can try 'n break my skin as much as ya want. ~ ❞ Was it reassuring, to know Nnoitra would not mind any attempts at harming him? In Nnoitra's mind, this would be reassuring. Maybe he was wrong.

PRETEND. Pretend that he had feelings for Nnoitra. Well, such a thing was easier said than done. For starters, Nnoitra wasn't even another elf. He was… something else altogether which shouldn't have been THAT big of a deal when Middle Earth was full of interesting creatures. Still, the fact that he wasn't an elf wasn't making this easy for someone who hasn't allowed ANYONE to handle him since his late wife. Perhaps if there had been many others before Nnoitra…

The Elvenking opened his mouth to respond, but in the end, decided against it. This was already doing wonders for his mood. No sense in sending it into a full on nosedive before anything actually happened between them.

And so once they were settled inside, Thranduil quietly kept work at his layers, the cloak being neatly draped over a nearby chair in the process. The arm cuffs, bangles and rings were next, left in a pile by the broach on the nearby vanity. As he reached up to begin undoing the buttons of his gown, he realized Nnoitra seemed to be observing him from afar. Thranduil could almost feel the wheels turning in the Hollow's head, perhaps wondering why the elf seemed so eager or why he wasn't making much of a fuss.

But the answer was simple enough. Why prolong the inevitable? Nnoitra never said anything about small talk. Nothing about drinks or banter that could perhaps settle the mood. He seemed likely the type to get on with it and Thranduil was more than happy to oblidge this time.

The elf's gown slowly slipped back a little, exposing broad, pale shoulders. By now, his partner had finally crossed the room, making his presence felt. The hand at his lower back caused him to tense, but only briefly. He had to remind himself that this was part of it; that he might have to endure a whole lot of it in places he wasn't accustomed to --- at least when he was in charge of things. And then the most egregious touch of them all…

The hair.

THE HAIR.

He had to bite down on full lips to keep from voicing his displeasure at having his hair pulled. Long white strands that gave the illusion of the finest silk were rarely out of place. If there was one thing the elf prided himself on was the perfection that was his hair each day. He took a breath, grey eyes closing briefly as he gently exhaled. Reaching up, he removed the circlet from about his forehead, setting the small crown upon the vanity with the rest of his things. Now all that was left was to slip out of the gown but he paused, mulling over words being muttered just as teeth grazed the skin there.

Was he going to make it? Five minutes ago, he was absolutely certain of it, but now?

"No…" the elf finally answered, his soft tone masking an array of feelings eating him inside. "I don't believe I have ever been with a… ah Hollow before. Even so, I do hope you intend to let me live after this session. I am not quite ready to depart from this world."

And he left it at that as he allowed the gown to expose more of his body. The smooth material slipped off shoulders completely and down his back stopping at his waist. From there he'd let Nnoitra decide if he wished to see the rest of him now.

[despairforme]

Had Thranduil refused, Nnoitra wouldn't have been surprised. In fact, he was so used to things NOT going his way, that he was pretty much expecting the other to flat-out refuse. To tell him HELL NO ( probably worded differently though ). It was obvious from how he SLAMMED the book shut, that he was unhappy. Nnoitra watched him stand up and walk across the room. Considering there was nothing dignified about this ' deal ' they were making, Nnoitra thought the other acted with a strange sort of pride. It probably went with being a KING, he supposed. Nnoitra looked him up and down as he stopped before him. There was a bit of a height difference, as one would expect. Nnoitra always towered over others, and this was no exception - though Thranduil to his defence was quite tall. After a moment, the other gave a TINY bow. This meant he accepted the deal, right? Colour him amazed.

Nnoitra's teeth peeked through in yet another grin. CLEARLY he was pleased. Thranduil's expression was hard to read. He looked calm enough. He was pretty. Nnoitra was not picky when it came to the physical appearance of his partners. Thranduil was easily way ABOVE Nnoitra's usual league. Long silver hair and high cheekbones. Under all those layers of clothing, Nnoitra imagined he was lean.

❝ C'mon then. ~ ❞ He gestured with a hand for the other to follow. Unnecessarily, it seemed, since Thranduil appeared to be following his lead. This whole place was set up for them to complete their DEAL, so surely there had to be somewhere suitable for them to retire to. They would exit through the nearest door ( Nnoitra hoped it conveniently lead them onto the right path ). Just like he was not picky with his partners, Nnoitra was not picky about the location either. It would be easiest and most pleasurable for his partner if they could lay down, so a bed would be the best option, if he wanted to at least try to give Thranduil a good time. ❝ Ya scared I'm gonna hurt ya? ❞ He asked, not out of concern, but more out of curiosity. It would help him establish the balance of power. Nnoitra ALWAYS needed to be the alpha. They walked down a corridor, with different doors. Nnoitra didn't know which one to pick, but if this place really was made for the sake of this ' deal ', then it didn't matter, did it? He chose a door to the right, opened it, and looked inside. ❝ How 'bout this? ❞ Since he didn't have a preference, he might as well let Thranduil have a say. He held the door open for the other to look inside, to see whether or not he found the room to his tastes.

Atem's dark eyes narrowed sharply, even if he was accustomed to people underestimating him. They all eventually fell before him in defeat, but he was not here to tout his own horn. He had always been more of a 'show not tell' kind of pharaoh, but even so he let it slide. He supposed it was fair enough considering he had so boldy touched the other in the first place.

He sensed the other looking past him towards one of their silver-haired companions. The vampire, Atem thought, was more than capable. He talked a good game but was he not the one lured into bed by two sibling who nearly offed him in a moment of weakness? How shameful. As for the elf, as far as the pharaoh knew, he had never been with anyone since his wife. This concerned him a great deal as it pertained to the entity standing over him. However, all kings were proud men, he himself being one too. As much as he wasn't certain Nnoitra made the right choice, he shrugged and stepped aside.

"All yours King Elf."

Grey eyes looked up from his book, his expression unreadable as he stared at the other male. He took in his appearance; a man quite slender in build but where he lacked in muscle he more than proudly made up elsewhere. The very idea of being touched; of being penetrated after years without did not sit well with him. The only ego-boosting part of this entire scenario was that he somehow chose a reclusive Elvenking over a hot vampire and tiny, cute king. Would that he was as vain as he was in his youth.

But time had changed the Elvenking a great deal and as the book was slammed shut, he stood in all his regal glory facing the other. He eventually crossed the room stopping before him. After a moment, a tiny bow is given in acknowledgement --- a show of respect… submissiveness despite it not coming naturally to him. He appears rather calm with no real telling emotions surfacing but his comrades knew better. He was probably furious inside, but was never one for backing out on promises. He waits for NNoitra to lead the way, long, silver hair blanketing his expression for the time being. ( @despairforme )

[gildinbainas]

elerondo​:

@gildinbainas   /   continued

ELROND WANTS TO BE A WOLF . Was he not the most beastly among the fine lords and ladies of Lindon ? When night shrouds their journey in darkness, signaling a time of rest and recovery, it only serves to amplify the voice of his fathers.   « Do you know how a wolf pack travels ? »   Maedhros recounted one day,   « I will teach you, Elrond, so that one day you can be a greater leader than I. »   To do what the Fëanorians could not. Slay Evil. Take revenge.

The soundlessness of his breaths was a meditation on words long ago. His greatsword lócënehtar leaned idle at the head of the bed, the humming of inscribed runes heard only by himself. It was a weapon suited for a great many uses; Shielding, healing, killing — much like its Master. His hands are in front of his chest, ready to wield it and command his runes at any moment’s notice.

❝ If we were wolves, I would be the Alpha pack leader, ❞ and if he moved even slightly, Thranduil would hear the clank of chainmail beneath leather and cloth, so he doesn’t. ❝ Being the strongest, I am at the front of the pack, the vanguard. I will keep the watch, to strike first and kill all our enemies. ❞ The ease in which he announced it was like an instruction in the universe, quiet and deadly.

The gods have blessed Elrond with many gifts, as though to make up for everything they had taken away from him. His body was a study in traumatic childhood loss. Dissect him and one will find all the pits that his loved ones have left behind. Greatness was an expanse of a sanctuary to be carved into, gradually, painfully, always, and forever. Was this not the choice of immortality ? That fateful day, he had given himself up as a machine of the gods, whether he consented or not. Was this what it meant ❛ To rue the day you were born ❜ ?

But, must he ? Was there no fighting back against destiny ?

❝ I will protect you, Thranduil, ❞ he does not wish to lose another dear to his heart.

          THERE  WERE  MOMENTS  WHEN  THRANDUIL  WONDERED  IF  HE  WAS  TOO  PRIVILEDGED;   too  sheltered  in  a  sense  to  fully  understand  Elrond.  Not  in  the  same  sense  of  privilege  as  the  prince,  but  of  another  kind.  The  kind  that  allowed  himself  to  be  spared  many  horrors  on  behalf  of  his  father.  Perhaps  it  was  a  blessing.  He  certainly  could  claim  that  he  slept  more  soundly  most  nights  because  of  it,  but  mayhaps  it  was  a  curse  as  well.  How  could  it  not  be  when  he  was  left  at  a  loss  of  how  to  comfort  his  friend?  What  was  the  appropriate  response  to  the  silence  here?  Would  it  be  naive  or  foolish  to  speak  plainly  his  mind  when  he  knew  he  could  not  relate  to  Elrond's  burdens?  Would  he  be  crossing  too  many  lines  if  he  acted  upon  instinct  as  opposed  to  whatever  his  mind  conjured  up  as  proper  decorum?  It  left  him  quite  vexed  and  yet....

❝ If we were wolves, I would be the Alpha pack leader... ❞

          Thranduil's  head  turned  slowly,  watching  the  back  of  @elerondo​ ‘s  head  with  renewed interest.  The  words  to  follow  had  the  Sindar  equally  contemplative,  even  more  so  than  before.  Was  this  how  Elrond  felt  all  the  time?  That  he  was  somehow  responsible  for  everyone  in  his  wake?  That  it  was  his  duty  to  always  put  himself  in  harm's  way  first?  True  he  was  the  strongest.  There  would  be  little  arguing  that  point,  but  Thranduil  wondered...  if  there  need  be  reason  to  worry  so  tonight.  Was  he  truly  expecting  their  hosts  to  butcher  them  in  the  night?  Somehow  Thranduil  doubted  this  was  their  plan.

❝ I will protect you, Thranduil, ❞

          And  that  statement  alone  was  enough  to  make  the  Sindar  fully  turn,  contemplating  his  next  words...  his  next  actions.  Protection?  Thranduil  didn't  need  protecting... or at least  not  to  this  degree.  He  was  more  than  certain  that  he  had  enough  training  under  his  belt  to  ---  at  the  very  least  ---  hold  his  own.  Elrond  needed  REST.  Was  such  a  crime  for  a  prince  and  fighter  of  his  caliber?

          ❝My  lord...  my  prince...  it  is  not  my  intention  to  question  you  out  of  disrespect,  but  I  can  only  stay  silent  for  so  long.  As  your  friend  plainly  speaking,  I  worry  that  you  fret  for  naught.  Are  you  not  the  one  training  me  when  my  father's  business  carries  him  elsewhere?  Have  I  not  trained  with  the  best?❞  He  paused.  ❝I  would  never  presume  to  be  a  great  warrior,  but  nevertheless  I  feel  confident  enough  say  ---  without  hesitation   ---  that  I      can  hold  my  own.❞

          He  paused,  this  time  hesitation  quite  evident  in  his  body  language.  Even  so,  something  compels  him  to  reach  out  and  lay  palm  upon  a  shoulder.  ❝My  prince...  I  knew  the  risks  when  I  agreed  to  venture  alongside  you  for  the  experience.  I  think...  you  place      too  heavy  a  burden  upon  yourself  this  night.  I  will  be  alright,  as  will  you  now... will  you  please  relax?❞

          And  so  he  finds  himself  mimicking  his  father  with  said  hand,  lightly  squeezing  flesh  about  the  shoulder.  If  not  for  the  hold  Elrond  had  upon  his  blade,  the  Sinda  might  have  sought  out  a  palm,  but  perhaps  this  was  for  the  best.  He  had  overstepped  enough.  He  would  never  presume  their  bond  was  enough  to  get  too  familiar.  It  would  be...  indecent.