Control

Title: Control
Series: Entropy
Chapter: Fourteen
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: I 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: 638
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.

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Queen's Rook's Pawn to Queen's Rook 4 - Queen's Rook's Pawn to Queen's Rook 4

Thranduil burst into Erestor's makeshift office that evening, eyes blazing and a frown on his lips. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded of the dark-haired, expressionless Noldo. "You threaten my advisors, send Elrond to accost my son, and then to dress me down..."

Erestor's placid gaze took Thranduil in with cool disdain. "Your advisors are weak-kneed fools, and Elrond makes his own decisions without my involvement." He stood up, rounding the desk with fluid grace. "But, I will tell you what. If it means so much to you, and it will allow me peace for the rest of my stay here, I shall bed you. This game of yours is simply annoying me now." Erestor motioned to Thranduil's trousers, ignoring the shocked expression on the king's face. "Come now. Drop your breeches, Sire."

Thranduil did not like the dispassionate tone or the obvious lack of interest in Erestor's eyes. "That is not particularly erotic," he managed after a moment's pause.

"I agreed to the act, not the emotion," Erestor immediately replied. "Drop them."

"We are not having sex in your office," Thranduil snapped.

Erestor lifted an eyebrow. "Then, by all means, Sire, lead the way."

***

Erestor had not permitted him to kiss his lips, and while the Noldo's body had certainly responded, as did his vocal chords, Erestor's eyes had remained as detached as ever. It had been to avoid the unemotional gaze that Thranduil had flipped Erestor onto his stomach before delving his fingers between the pale cheeks of his backside. He thought Erestor's voice coldly beautiful as the advisor cried out his pleasure, a sheen of sweat developing on the gracefully arched back.

Thranduil had his prize.

After slicking his sex with oil, Thranduil positioned himself against Erestor, taking the lithe body in one smooth motion. Erestor moaned as he accepted Thranduil's girth, and then they began to rock together. It was rutting, pure and simple, and neither pretended it was anything but. The pace swiftly built, their mingled shouts and groans filling the air of Erestor's chambers, and it was not long before Thranduil reached around Erestor's hip and took him in hand.

Erestor pressed back into the thick shaft piercing him before he thrust forward in Thranduil's slick fist. It had been centuries since he had last lost himself in the pleasures of the body, and he allowed himself to dive headfirst into the sensations that enveloped him. Panting, his vision blurred by arousal and sweat, Erestor felt the growing pressure in his groin. His head fell to his folded arms, another long moan pulled from him as Thranduil's hand twisted perfectly on him, and the telltale clenching of his backside warned them both that release was within reach.

Thranduil rode Erestor harder, tightened his grip, and when he thought he could take no more, Erestor bucked into him. Warm seed flowed over his fingers, and the Noldo's muscles clutched at him with amazing force. Thranduil howled triumphantly when he spilled himself within Erestor, the climax breath-stealing and mind-numbing. Slowly, he returned to himself, and carefully pulled his spent sex from Erestor's body.

After a moment to catch his breath, Erestor rose from the bed and entered the bathing chamber. He cleansed himself, drew on a new pair of trousers, and picked up his shirt. He returned to the main room, slipping the soft fabric onto his flushed skin, and began to lace it. "I hope this has satisfied your curiosity," he said, the words tinged with the frost mirrored in his icy gaze. "If you will excuse me."

In mute disbelief, Thranduil watched Erestor comb out his hair, plait it once more, and slip on his boots. The councillor then bowed respectfully and left the room, the silent assumption that Thranduil would leave before he returned hanging in the musky air.

TBC...