Control
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
15
Views:
4,407
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
15
Views:
4,407
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Twelve
Title: Control
Series: Entropy
Chapter: Twelve
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Contact: soultornasunder@gmail.com
Website: http://www.hithanaur.net/
Update List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nairn_orchyd/
Fandom: LOTR
Archive: OEAM
Feedback: Yes! Always!
Disclaimer: We do not own LotR or any characters, lands, or items from the Tolkien world. They belong to their respective copyright holders.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 451
Beta: Alex
Cast: Thranduil/Erestor, Thranduil/Elrohir, Gildor/OMC, Haldir/Lothvaen, Cilith(OMC)/Anion(OMC)
Summary: Mirkwood becomes the board for two Elves who are ruthless in their game.
Note: This is a challenge to myself. I wished to write a series of fiction in which the chapters never exceeded 1,000 words, yet were no less than 300 words. The first story in this series, 'Control', is based off of a 1992 chess game between Stephen Boyd and Torbjorn Glimbrant. Each chapter is a move and a countermove. Thranduil represents white, Erestor black. I hope everyone enjoys it.
---
King's Bishop to Queen 3 - Queen's Bishop to King's Knight 5
Thranduil almost ran into Claurion, the advisor rushing out of the practice arena with his head down. He caught Claurion at the shoulders, and wide eyes looked up at him. "You are finished already?" he asked with a frown.
"I believe I should choose another time to practice until the Imladris delegation leaves," Claurion said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache brewing; this was all Thranduil's fault, his ruthless need to alleviate the itch in his trousers with Erestor!
"Has there been a conflict?"
Claurion sighed, feeling the budding headache take firm hold on him. "I fear one may develop, Sire, and I wish to be as far from it as possible."
Thranduil took a step back, an odd smile on his face. "Lord Erestor would not attack you."
"I have no wish to test that, Sire," Claurion replied. "Please excuse me, my lord, but I have duties I must attend to." With Thranduil's nod of dismissal, Claurion chose to visit first the healer, and then return to his offices. He doubted the healer had anything that would ease his headache, for it was an ailment he had been battling for six centuries now.
Since his appointment to Thranduil's council.
***
From the bleachers in the practice arena, Elrond's sharp eyes watched his councillor and son do battle. He had rarely seen Erestor so intent, forcing Elladan back again and again. Without looking to his companion, Elrond spoke, his voice lilting and gentle. "Your father plays a dangerous game."
Legolas let out a long breath, giving a single nod. "I warned him."
"Thranduil is not well known for heeding warnings, is he?" Elrond asked, his tone light so as not to offend the prince.
"I have been told by many that my father inherited Grandfather's obstinate tenacity." Legolas leaned back, his elbows resting on the rise behind him. "Often I have wondered about the source of my own disposition."
Elrond chuckled. "Legolas, you are as much like your mother as Thranduil is like his father. Thank the Valar for that. I think one Thranduil is more than Arda can handle."
The pair on the sparring floor swapped blows several times, but then Erestor took the upper hand. Within moments, Elladan was sprawled out on his backside, sweaty and panting as he yielded to Erestor. The councillor withdrew his blade and helped Elladan to his feet, but his savage expression did not dissipate with the ending of the session.
"My, Lord Erestor seems to be in a splendid mood today," Legolas observed.
"Indeed. Let us hope this business concludes quickly before his mood improves to the point that he puts someone in the infirmary," Elrond muttered darkly.
TBC...
Series: Entropy
Chapter: Twelve
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Contact: soultornasunder@gmail.com
Website: http://www.hithanaur.net/
Update List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nairn_orchyd/
Fandom: LOTR
Archive: OEAM
Feedback: Yes! Always!
Disclaimer: We do not own LotR or any characters, lands, or items from the Tolkien world. They belong to their respective copyright holders.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 451
Beta: Alex
Cast: Thranduil/Erestor, Thranduil/Elrohir, Gildor/OMC, Haldir/Lothvaen, Cilith(OMC)/Anion(OMC)
Summary: Mirkwood becomes the board for two Elves who are ruthless in their game.
Note: This is a challenge to myself. I wished to write a series of fiction in which the chapters never exceeded 1,000 words, yet were no less than 300 words. The first story in this series, 'Control', is based off of a 1992 chess game between Stephen Boyd and Torbjorn Glimbrant. Each chapter is a move and a countermove. Thranduil represents white, Erestor black. I hope everyone enjoys it.
---
King's Bishop to Queen 3 - Queen's Bishop to King's Knight 5
Thranduil almost ran into Claurion, the advisor rushing out of the practice arena with his head down. He caught Claurion at the shoulders, and wide eyes looked up at him. "You are finished already?" he asked with a frown.
"I believe I should choose another time to practice until the Imladris delegation leaves," Claurion said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache brewing; this was all Thranduil's fault, his ruthless need to alleviate the itch in his trousers with Erestor!
"Has there been a conflict?"
Claurion sighed, feeling the budding headache take firm hold on him. "I fear one may develop, Sire, and I wish to be as far from it as possible."
Thranduil took a step back, an odd smile on his face. "Lord Erestor would not attack you."
"I have no wish to test that, Sire," Claurion replied. "Please excuse me, my lord, but I have duties I must attend to." With Thranduil's nod of dismissal, Claurion chose to visit first the healer, and then return to his offices. He doubted the healer had anything that would ease his headache, for it was an ailment he had been battling for six centuries now.
Since his appointment to Thranduil's council.
***
From the bleachers in the practice arena, Elrond's sharp eyes watched his councillor and son do battle. He had rarely seen Erestor so intent, forcing Elladan back again and again. Without looking to his companion, Elrond spoke, his voice lilting and gentle. "Your father plays a dangerous game."
Legolas let out a long breath, giving a single nod. "I warned him."
"Thranduil is not well known for heeding warnings, is he?" Elrond asked, his tone light so as not to offend the prince.
"I have been told by many that my father inherited Grandfather's obstinate tenacity." Legolas leaned back, his elbows resting on the rise behind him. "Often I have wondered about the source of my own disposition."
Elrond chuckled. "Legolas, you are as much like your mother as Thranduil is like his father. Thank the Valar for that. I think one Thranduil is more than Arda can handle."
The pair on the sparring floor swapped blows several times, but then Erestor took the upper hand. Within moments, Elladan was sprawled out on his backside, sweaty and panting as he yielded to Erestor. The councillor withdrew his blade and helped Elladan to his feet, but his savage expression did not dissipate with the ending of the session.
"My, Lord Erestor seems to be in a splendid mood today," Legolas observed.
"Indeed. Let us hope this business concludes quickly before his mood improves to the point that he puts someone in the infirmary," Elrond muttered darkly.
TBC...