Royal Flush

Glorfindel followed the Mirkwood secretary through the winding corridors that snaked about the palace. In all his many years he had never ventured to guest in Thranduil's kingdom, leaving Erestor to fulfill that duty. In fact, Elrond was quite hesitant to allow him even this short journey finding all manner of excuses as to why his visit would be terribly inconvenient. In the end the Elven Lord had acquiesced to his request, albeit hesitantly, and sent word ahead that the seneschal would soon be arriving.

The four day journey had allowed the Golden Lord plenty of opportunity to dwell upon the young Prince, and dwell he did, recalling in exquisite detail every soft curve and smooth plane of the Elfling's body. By the time Glorfindel arrived at the underground palace he was more than eager to seek out the youngling and pick up where they had left off.

"This is your chamber," announced Beran as he stood in the doorway of the magnificent suite, gesturing for the seneschal to enter. "I am sure you will find everything to your satisfaction," he continued, his dark gaze roaming appreciatively over Glorfindel's form as the Lord followed him inside.

To say the room was impressive would have been an understatement for every need had been anticipated and no amenity overlooked. Baskets of ripe fruit as well a good supply of Mirkwood wine lay upon a table in the center of the huge room. A bed that could have easily accommodated three or four guests was strewn with soft pillows and lavishly blanketed with richly hued duvets. Large gilt-framed pieces of artwork depicting the former beauty of the Greenwood graced the walls in place of windows, and despite the solidity of the stone chamber gave one the impression of airy openness. A fire burned in the hearth casting large burnished shadows to dance upon the walls and a small stack of firewood lay piled ready to be used at a moments notice.

Beran glided over towards the hearth and poked the fire to a blaze. The room was already quite warm, so he merely poked for poking's sake as he watched the seneschal take in his surroundings. A smile curled his lips as he followed the ancient Elf's graceful movements. He could well see why Thranduil had been q exc excited about this one's arrival. The thought of sampling the seneschal's lean body flitted briefly though his mind, but he quickly dashed away any hopes, for the King had indeed plans for the legendary slayer.

"I would imagine that you are weary from your journey Heru en amin" postulated Beran as crossed the room and gathered up a stack of plush towels and large softly quilted robe. "The is a hot mineral bath nearby that will soothe both your body and mind. I highly recommend it," he continued offering the golden Lord the pile pf bathing items.

"Diolla lle, Mellon-nin," replied Glorfindel taking the proffered articles, "I do believe that that is just what I need." In all honesty what he needed was a certain young Princeling wrapped tightly around his waist, but perhaps a bath would be a timelier endeavor considering the amount road that still clung to his skin.

Trading his dusty traveling attire for the comfort of the plush robe, Glorfindel allowed the dark secretary to lead him in the direction of the mineral springs and after reassuring the rather over attentive youth that he would be quite fine on his own slipped quietly into the steaming water.

Legolas had tracked Glorfindel at a distance form the moment he had crossed into Mirkwood territory, watching him intently as he wove around the dense underbrush that bordered the palace. Once or twice the golden Lord had turned in his direction as if something had alerted him, but the golden one had simply tossed his magnificent hair over his shoulder and continued along his way. If he had indeed been spotted, Glorfindel was not letting on.

A few times Legolas thought about lng fng from the trees and taking the seneschal by surprise right there in the wood, but he held onto his resolve and simply watched and waited for the opportune moment.

His father's predatory secretary greeted the seneschal upon his arrival and quickly escorted the object of the Prince's sleepless nights into stone caverns. Legolas had lost site of his quarry and cursed his sensible decision to remain hidden. Slipping quickly inside, the need for clandestine movement quite passed, the Prince made quickly for the one place in Mirkwood that all guests eventually end up. The baths.

Slipping beneath the mirrored surface, Glorfindel rinsed the fragrant lather from his hair, feathering the pale stands between his fingers as they fanned out in a curtain of gold amid the heated water. It was a wonderful luxury to be clean again and swimming effortlessly to the edge of the pool, he surfaced with a slight gasp and leaned languidly upon the cool of surrounding stone. Wisps of tendrilling steam curled from his glistening skin as he lay half propped upon the ledge, oblivious to anything but the sound his own soft breathing.

Legolas watched in silent awe as the seneschal's robe puddled onto the stone floor of the baths revealing perfection that the Prince had only dreamed of. The slayer was indeed beautiful in his robes and adornments, but stripped and simply bare he was utterly magnificent. Not one mark flawed his entire body and the sinfully delicious sight made Legolas ache with need.

AS quickly as he had disrobed, the seneschal slipped into the pool, his graceful body disappearing beneath the silvery liquid without a sound, surfacing again at the far end of the pool to finger the myriad of fragrant oils and soaps than lined the ledge.

Legolas shifted uneasily against the cramped confines of his hiding spot. He knew he really should make his presence known, but something made him just watch. It had always been that way with him. There was something terribly erotic about seeing but not being seen. He had watched his father with Beran many times from this very vantage point; in fact, it was on this very spot that he had his first...

A splash and shuddering moan drew Legolas attention back to the Lord in the pool. Peeking carefully from behind the tapestry he watched as Glorfindel lay half sprawled on the stonework, his glistening skin reflecting a copper glow in the torchlight. The Elf lord looked exhausted and the Prince had a momentary doubt about his plan of seduction.

All apprehension dissolved in an instance as Glorfindel sighed loudly and turned on the ledge, head and arms resting along the stone support. Stripping quickly Legolas padded toward the reclining seneschal and knelt down, the heat of the Lord's warm skin fanning his cool flesh like a sultry summer breeze. Slowly he raised his hand and let it hover over the Elven Lord's chest tracing the trails of the rivulets of water in the air as they trickled across the creamy expanse to disappear below the surface of the water. One taste... that's all he needed was one taste of that honey sweet flesh and he would be lost.

Closer he drew to those perfect lips, those supple plump crescents of warm dewy softness, so pink, so wet, so tantalizing.

"Kiss me already," Glorfindel's breathy words were barely audible, but to the point.

Overcome by the seneschal's request, Legolas captured the dusky moist lips in a passionate kiss, his golden hair falling forward to curtain them both in a fragrant waterfall of flaxen sunshine. A small shiver of delight trilled through the Prince's body at once again tasting the incomparable sweetness of the elegant Lord and as Glorfindel brought his arms up to slip them around his waist, he moaned wantonly into his lover's mouth succumbing eagerly to the touch.

"Aniron lle, Legolas," purred the seneschal pulling the lithe Princeling to slide sensuously down his slick body and into the enveloping warmth of the steaming bath.

With careful attention to detail, Glorfindel explored every inch of Legolas' body, stroking and tasting him until he shuddered with desire, bringing him to the edge of passions peak more than once, but not allowing him to succumb. In turn the young Prince worked his own magic upon the golden Lord, leaving the ancient seneschal trembling and panting for more. Together they rose and fell in a game of pleasure, each one delighting in the others shuddering response.

"Glorfindel... Aye... mellon-nin... saes..." Legolas was the first to break, his young body thrumming with the surge of denied release.

Pulling him close, the seneschal muffled the younglings pleading whimpers with his mouth as much for his own sake as Legolas', for he was quite to the point of being undone himself.

"Ayia malthen (golden one)... Saes si (Please now)..." The Prince broke the kiss and squirmed beneath the seneschal, rubbing himself against him with fierce need, breathing heavily against Glorfindel's damp neck.

Unable to maintain his composure, Glorfindel quickly turned the moaning Elfling over and lifted his hips from the pool, sliding easily between the cleft of a perfectly rounded backside and sheathing himself deeply within the tight heat of the Princes' body.

Legolas shuddered and moaned so loudly at the coupling that it echoed off the stone walls, spurring the seneschal to thrust hard and rhythmically into the youngling's body.

"You are so wonderfully tight my young Prince," moaned Glorfindel, gritting his teeth agt tht the pricking tendrils of his release that began to crawl up his thighs.

"Mmmmm... Legolas... lirimaer... Aye..."

Two more thrusts and Glorfindel stilled, holding back the inevitable, wanting Legolas to fall with him. "Legolas," he hissed, "Come for me..."

The Prince was already past the point of no return and the golden Lord's words pushed him over the edge, his release jetting from him in pearly stream to pool upon the cool stone, amid his strangled cry...

"Glorfindel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Rolling his head back, his hands clenched so tightly to Legolas's hips that they whitened from the strain, the golden Lord let his orgasm wash over him in shuddering waves. Utterly spent, he collapsed in a gasping heap upon the younglings back, the aftershocks of himplempletion pulsing sweetly in counterpoint to his rapidly beating heart.

Despite his first inclination to turn away, Thranduil found himself rooted to floor, his palm stoking in time with Glorfindel thrusts. The golden god's back arched with every slick movement of his body drawing a keening moan from his son's parted lips.

"Aye, Legolas... feel him as he takes you... as his claims you, every thrust bringing you closer..." Thranduil gripped himself tighter, needing to feel what Glorfindel was feeling, wanting to discover that which drove the golden Lord to shudder moa moan.

"Ohhhhh..." he breathed, the slickness of his own need slippery in his palm.

"Take him... make him cry out..." The king stroke harder and faster.

"Aye Glorfindel... Saes... taaaaake mmmeeeeeee!!!!!!"

Thranduils's eyes squeezed shut as Legolas cry rent the warm moist air of the bath. A shuddering hiss passed the monarch's lips as he fell back against the wall with the force of his release, his seed leaking in milky strands from between his trembling fingers.

Legolas finally opened his eyes, his body weak, but recovering. Across the pool, he caught a glimpse of the tapestries as they swayed in a nonexistent breeze. For a moment he did not comprehend, but as the door to the baths opened, he glimpsed a familiar shock of flaxen hair, so much like his own as it glinted in the light of the corridor.

Glorfindel felt Legolas stiffen beneath him and thinking he was uncomfortable relaxed his embrace. The youngling seemed to be staring off into the distance so curious as to what could possibly hold his attention so intensely, he followed his line of sight.

Thranduil...