The Hands, The Hands

The Hands, The Hands
By Mieren


Thranduil had risen early with every intent to snoop through Rivendell before the sun peeked into the sky. His presence was to negotiate a treaty between Imladris and Mirkwood, but negotiations had been going nowhere for three days now and the routine was becoming tedious at best. The two rulers mostly sat back and wed ted their advisors argue themselves hoarse. He greatly envied his only son, Legolas, the archer free to roam the cit he he wished.

From the darkness, two sets of gray eyes watched him closely. The king was one of the most attractive elves in either realm, his features delicate and youthful while his starburst silver eyes held wisdom as old as the stars themselves. Waist length golden tresses haloed his slender frame, yet to be tied into royal knots. He moved with the fluid grace of a warrior, making no sound in the darkness.

Despite his caution, two forms had trailed him ruthlessly since exiting his chambers. An accomplished warrior, he noted the presence of the twins, but didn’t comment on it. It took a lot of effort to shock the king. Nonetheless, he was absolutely speechless when the twin elf knights rushed him in the kitchens, shoving him onto the counter with a fair deal of force. Lips clashed with his eagerly.

Growling, Thranduil went for his dagger only to learn that his belt was already gone and he was in very real danger of losing his leggings. He kicked out viciously, catching one of the twins in the ribs and shoving him some distance away. He grinnastiastily, hoping it left a bruise. That only left him one to grapple with. The distraction cost him his pants, and he was abruptly bared to his attacker.

The twin ducked a punch and buried his face in the blonde’s lap, sucking his cock into a hot mouth. Thranduil paused, hissing out a sharp breath. His pause resulted in a lapse in his defense, allowing the downed twin the chance to join his brother. The bruised elf was all too happy to reach for his robes, easing the ancient king from his embroidered forest green garments. The twin going down on him allowed his fingers to linger over nipples, teasing them erect while his brother removed his sky blue robes. The two changed places seamlessly and the freed twin divested himself of his own clothes.

The king was slightly nonplussed to see that both of the twins were broader of shoulder than himself, their mortal heritage showing through in their slightly taller frames. Angry that he was outsized, the blond became a little more forceful in his ministrations, pulling the twin’s face away from his lap and lifting the younger elf up to straddle his waist. The raven elf was all too happy to change positions to accommodate his lover.

The storm of hands began. Surprised by the sudden onslaught, Thranduil was stunned to motionless, talented hands stroking his form lovingly. A mouth latched onto his nipple, nibbling the rosy bud to erectness, suckling happily. After a moment, the talented tongue switched to the other side, fingers replacing his lips. The twin in his lap nipped delicately at the tip of his ear, fingers running along the length of the other, sending sparks of sensation through the delicate shell. A hand began pumping him to full mast.

The scent of olive oil blossomed in the air and Thranduil flinched a little at the chill of the liquid as it was generously poured across his cock. The cold was replaced with fiery heat as the twin straddling his waist raised his hips and seated himself in the blonde’s lap with one smooth movement. The impaled elf began to ride him slowly, tormenting his lover with the drawn out motions.

Warm hands pulled Thranduil to the edge of the counter, tugging his thighs apart. Growling angrily, the king uncoiled and shot one hand beyond his passenger’s defenses, grabbing the other twin’s arm and yanking him to the side. Shocked by the suddenness of the maneuver, the accosted twin was unable to do anything, yielding helplessly when the blond pulled him towards his chest, straddling the king as he laid back, silvery eyes casting about for something.

Unable to find the source of the olive oil, he settled on a dish of butter, sinking his fingers into the yellow substance and reaching around to curl slicked digits around the penis of the elf in his lap. Thoroughly slicked, he kept his almost painfully tight grip on the impaled elf, pushing his brother back towards him with his free hand.

Always before in their molestations of various elves, one twin had taken each side of the ensuing sandwich. Never before had they ridden one another and both balked at the joining. Gray eyes locked, hands stilling. Thranduil would not be denied, maintaining his painful grip on both and using the full strength of his upper body to pull them together. Twinned smirks passed over the brothers’ features and they gave in with a speed that startled the king into releasing his hold on both.

Spreading his legs further apart, the topmost elf moved back, seating himself on his brother’s heated length. With the vastly different angles of his two lovers, the middlemost elf was forced to hold utterly still while his partners rocked and thrust in conjunction with one another, driving him utterly insane. On his hands and knees straddling Thranduil, the topmost twin idly rocked his frame forward and backward, his erection trailing tantalizingly over the blonde’s abdomen. The king took it into his still slicked grip and pumped him idly.

Lessons on how to be an indescribable prick must have come up somewhere in learning how to rule Mirkwood, because Thranduil sat up suddenly, causing the two elves atop him to fall into the laps of their respective lovers with a good deal of force. The poor elf knight in the middle nearly passed out from the sudden shock of the feelings stemming from his nether regions. A hand fisted in his hair, pulling him forward roughly to greet demanding lips from the slender king. The action put his neck dangerously close to the other’s lips, earning the blond a hickey on the side of his neck.

Trying to make the younger elves vocalize a bit more, Thranduil bucked his hips up sharply, jostling the raven pair roughly. The hickey on his neck disintegrated into a strangled groan to match the moan released into his own mouth. In retaliation, the middle elf wrenched his mouth away and delivered a second love bite to the other side of Thranduil’s neck.

Silver eyes glittered dangerously at the show of power the youngster had displayed and he snaked his arm behind the offending elf, lowering his fingers to probe at their joining. Giving no warning for the intrusion, he thrust two fingers inside to nestle beside his tiontion, making already tight accommodations even tighter. The raven twin yelped loudly, wriggling deliciously between the other two.

Gray gazes met again, this time in irritation. They were the ones doing the ravishing and should be the ones causing any and all cries, be they from pleasure or pain. The rain of hands returned with an unbeknownst ferocity.

Thranduil was taken aback at the sudden flurry of caresses. Seemingly having no trouble working around each other, the twins went to work. Slowly but surely, they each rose and fell in his lap, teasing him with the slow ease of their movements. His fingers fell free from the middle elf’s opening, allowing him to move more firmly against him. Hands swept up and down his sides, fingertips dipping into his navel and curling around the edges of his pubic hair. Neither of his nipples was safe from pinching and licking for more than a split second at a time. Hands were in his hair, massaging his scalp and stroking the edges of his ears. Tongues warred for supremacy in his mouth, teeth tugging on his lower lip more than once.

Both twins suddenly tensed in unison. Warm heat splashed across Thranduil’s abdomen and the passage sheathing his length tightened almost painfully. The king was further astonished that there was no lapse in movements, the fingers still dancing across him while the middle elf rode him. Amazed by their perseverance, he gave in to sensation and came with a groan, holding the pair still while he rode out his orgasm.

Sweaty and exhausted, sun still yet to rise, the three rested together in a sweaty knot, panting in unison.

They were then treated to the funniest sight of their eternal lives. Elrond swept into the kitchen, arm upraised and mouth opened to say something. Spotting them within his first step into the room, he pivoted on his toes between one step and the next and turned around to sweep right back out, arm still upraised and mouth still open. The twins giggled helplessly into Thranduil’s neck and he couldn’t help the grin thaoke oke out on his fair features. He would mock the other immortal later for that priceless look.

The whirlwind returned with no warning. Warm wet rags swept everywhere. The hands were in his hair again, braiding furiously. In the span of under a minute, Thranduil found himself just outside of the kitchens, fully dressed and hair plaited to perfection. The only evidence of the coupling was a faint smudge of flour on his cheek and the hickeys on his throat, on full display for all of Imladris.

With a wry twist of his lips, he started to make his way through the Last Homely Home to where a flurry of advisors would already be setting up for their discussions. Oh, but negotiations today would be interesting.

End.
I didn’t really plan Thranduil to come out so rough, but he just kind of comes off like that for whatever reason. Oh well. R&R! Feel free to suggest pairings.