Turin's Revenge

Disclaimer: Don't belong to me.
Beta Reader: Aliir
Pairing: Saeros/Turin (Unfinished Tales, The Silmarillion)
Rating: NC-17, for non-con sex.
Summary: A missing scene from the Unfinished Tales. Turin wants to hurt Saeros, make him pay for his taunts. Written for the Library of Moria April challenge.
A/N: Although mentioned in the Silmarillion, this story was only really explained in full in the Unfinished Tales. Some of the dialogue has been taken from there. I'm sure you'll be able to tell which. Needless to say, this did not happen in Tolkien's version. Feedback is loved, so please send!

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"Saeros." His lissom form was stronger than it looked, and I gasped after the intense fight. Still, I had won, and he now lay sprawled beneath me. Morwen's mocker had to pay. "There is a long race a long race before you, and clothes will be a hindrance; hair must suffice." He shoved up, bucking frantically, trying to get away, but to no avail. I straddled his belly, grinding the side of his face into the dirt with the palm of my hand, ignoring his soft grunts of pain.

His tunic ripped easily, the soft material presenting no problem to the strength of my arm, and the buttons in his undershirt were no barrier. Over and over his words played in my head: "If the men of Hithlum are so wild and fell, of what sort are the women of that land? Do they run like deer clad only in their hair?"

I wanted to make him pay.

All evening he had been pushing me, taunting, mocking, constantly bringing my rage closer and closer to the surface with his petty words and games.

And finally, with his attack, I had snapped.

I wanted him to pay. I wanted to humiliate him, debase him as he had done to me. I wanted him to feel my anger, to repent his earlier insults. I would get some apology from him. I would make him regret his actions and words.

His sword lay off to one side, lying on the ground where I had kicked it. The part of me that screamed I should walk away was buried by my revengeful thoughts: he had attacked me, he had mocked me, he had started this...why should I not finish it?

He jerked in my grasp, butting upwards with his head, catching my nose and making me yell out as sharp pain burst through me. When he made another attempt at freedom I shook him roughly, banging his head against the hard ground. I was stronger, heavier, and given yet more strength by anger. All it did was add fuel to my burning temper.

His sword arm bled from our brief fight, and a deep purpling bruise from the cup I had thrown in the hall marred his otherwise fair face. Other than that, his body was perfection. That was no surprise: I was yet to find an Elf that was physically flawed. A hairless chest with compact muscles and smooth creamy skin broadened at the shoulders and slimmed at the waist. Pink nipples barely darker than his skin had pinched in the cold night air, their peaks flushed angry red with blood.

Remembering my earlier promise, I hooked one hand into the waistband of his leggings, feeling the tickle of damp curls against my fingers, smirking at his obvious embarrassment. Lifting delicate hips I ripped down with all my strength, but he easily stopped me by bending his knees. I had to reach behind to pull them off over his boots. They were the last items to come off and the only items that remained intact - I could not rip leather, and the buckles holding them tight round his feet were no problem. After all, they were the same on my own.

I turned back, and any plans I'd had were scattered to the wind. Silken hair fanned out around his head as he watched me with wide, dark eyes. Plump lips parted, drawing in air as his pale chest heaved. His limbs sprawled in disarray.

Still, none of those things could have aroused me so totally.

I sneered at him, even as my hand curled around the pale column of flesh jutting up from between his legs. His eyes rolled back in his head as I jerked my fist up and down his shaft, and when I stroked my thumb over the head, finding moisture oozing from a small slit, his teeth closed over his bottom lip, biting down hard enough to draw blood. When I used this moisture to lubricate my grip he let his head fall to the side; his eyes closing and cheeks flushing a heated red.

He hated this as much as he desired it, and that made me harder than I thought possible.

I jerked my hand up and down his shaft a few more times before stopping. This wasn't what I wanted. This was something I might do to a lover. I wanted to hurt Saeros; make him bleed. Humiliate him; degrade him so deeply he would never forget. I fumbled at the ties to my own leggings, haste and lust making cold fingers shake.

"No...please. Please, don't..." The whimpered plea, so quiet it was only a groan, spurred me on. Maybe once I would have been satisfied to make Saeros beg, but now? No. Not when desire burned in me so brightly and strongly it would be near impossible to turn away from the prone figure before me.

Finally freeing my own arousal, I reached under him, roughly squeezing firm buttocks while I tilted his hips. I grinned down at him as I roughly shoved one finger deep inside him, ignoring his uncomfortable squirm. Soon, he would be more than just uncomfortable. Soon, he would bleed.
Guiding my cock to his shadowed entrance, I barely listened to his frightened pleas, my thought all centred on revenge.

He cried out, voice full of pain as I thrust into him. I didn't stop, didn't give him time to adjust to my size, just repeated the movement again and again as his body twisted and shuddered beneath mine, enjoying his tight, velvety heat.

Raising my hand to his cheek revealed tears, and I mockingly drew my tongue across his face, tasting salt. Pressing my lips over his in a sick parody of a kiss, I tore at the soft flesh there, tasting coppery blood in my mouth.

Even in this he found pleasure. His arousal, which had died when I first shoved into him, was now growing again, and I doubtless didn't help by rolling his balls in my hand and massaging the soft steel of his shaft.
His muscles grew tense around me, and he sobbed out loud as I pinched him at the base of his cock, cutting off his impending orgasm.

"Please...please" he begged, tears streaming down his face. His arms reached up, perhaps to try and push me away, but wracked in pain and lust as he was, he hadn't the strength for it. Instead, he just let them fall, back down to his sides.

I gave into his pleading, guessing how shameful he would feel at coming from this, his rape. Grasping his sex, I slammed my hand up and down, feeling his ball tighten and hearing his humiliated wail as he came, semen shooting up to splatter over his chest.

I slid out with a wet sound, my swollen cock smeared with blood and pre-come. Fucking him was fine, but he enjoyed it far too much, even through his pain. I had succeeded in making him bleed - now I wanted to degrade him so intensely he would never even think of insulting Morwen, insulting me, again.

Crawling up his exhausted body, I straddled his head, my cock dripping fluid onto his face. Opening his eyes, he jerked back, horror filling his features.

"No!"

"Yes." I lowered my hips slightly, angling my cock towards his lips, enjoying his disgusted wriggle.

"No, please! I'll...I'll bite you, I swear I will..." He sounded childish, making threats he had no intention of carrying through. Maybe he had been trained in the arts of war, but counsellor and minstrel that he was, the idea of hurting someone so closely, so intimately sickened him.

"You won't, because if you do I'll cut off your dick and balls and make you eat those." I leered down at him. "And believe me, I've done worse."

I wrapped my hand around his chin, squeezing at the hinge where his jaw met his skull. He gave a strangled cry of pain, but couldn't stop his mouth opening wide, leaving me free to thrust my cock deep into his mouth.

I had thought his arse was good. This was so much sweeter. His tongue pushed frantically against my girth, unknowing sending bolts of pleasure spinning through me. Grunting fiercely, I thrust again and again, loving the feel of his throat muscles clenching round me, the barest, tantalising scrape of teeth. Pulling back, I felt ecstasy hum through me. I yelled to the heavens as my come shot across his face.


It was all I could do to climb to my feet but I did, forcing shaky legs to support me, not wanting to show Saeros any sign of weakness. Tucking myself back inside my pants I felt the first chords of guilt, but when I turned back to him he fled into the woods, crying out for help, and cursing I ran after him. My guilt was written plain on his body for all who wished to see, and already others were starting to chase after us. Still, only the swiftest could keep up as we ran on, deep into the woods...

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Nellas uncurled her legs out from under her, her mind reeling with shock from what she had just witnessed. Never could she guessed that her Turin, her love, the sweet boy she used to walk with in sun-dappled glades could have acted as he just did. However, as much as she would have liked to deny it, the aching throb between her legs testified that, like Saeros, she liked her pleasure mixed with pain.

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A/N: For those who don't know or can't remember, the chase ended with Saeros jumping off a cliff and dying, and Turin going into exile. Cheerful, huh?