Title: Promises, Promises
Author: Khylaren
Contact: Khylaren@yahoo.com
Fandom: LOTR
Rating: [R]
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. I’m not making money off this story; it was written for the pure pleasure of it.
Warnings: homoerotic (slash) content
Cast: Thranduil/Celeborn

Summary: A short ficlet that wouldn’t go away. Thranduil may get more than he bargains for.

“So, Lord Celeborn,” Thranduil purred, running a fingertip slowly down Celeborn’s chest. “Shall we dispense with the formalities and get straight to the point?”

“The point?” Celeborn repeated faintly. “I-I suppose we could…oof!”  The wind was knocked out of him as Thranduil scooped him up and tossed him in a not so dignified manner over his shoulder. “Thranduil! What are you doing?”

“I am carrying you to my bed,” Thranduil answered easily, his voice full of amusement. “So that I more easily ravish you.”

“What?” Celeborn squawked. “Put me down this instant, Thranduil. ‘Tis not seemly for an elf of my age and station to be carried thus!”  He struggled vainly to free himself from the Sindar King’s grasp, and earned himself a stinging swat on his upturned bottom.

“Behave yourself, Celeborn,” Thranduil chuckled. “You are causing a scene.”

Celeborn moaned, hiding his face against Thranduil’s back as the king carried him through the hall. “Someone will surely see me. Please. Think of my reputation.”

Thranduil snorted. “I am thinking of your reputation, my Lord, and it could use some livening up. You are far too predictable, far too set in your ways. It will do your subjects good to see that their Lord still has a playful side.”

“Oh,” Celeborn moaned again, mortified at the thought. “Please, Thranduil. I beg you. Put me down.”

Thranduil chuckled wickedly. “You beg so prettily, mellonen. What will you give me if I acquiesce to your demands? Answer quick, we are almost to the door.”

“Anything!” Celeborn promised rashly. “Whatever you ask. Sweet Elbereth, Thranduil. Please.”

The King paused, his hands lingering on Celeborn’s backside a moment, before setting the Elf Lord to his feet.

Celeborn managed to restore his robes to their former state, before glaring up at Thranduil.

“That was uncalled for,” he said, frowning.

“Ah, but so much fun, mellonen,” Thranduil smirked. “Now I ask you to uphold your promise to me.”

Celeborn eyed him warily. “What is it you would ask of me?”

Thranduil looked at him seriously for a moment, his green eyes hooded. “You, in my bed, melethron. Willing, not coerced.”  He leaned forward, fingertips tracing lightly along the edge of Celeborn’s jaw. “Breaking down your reticence, while pleasurable in its moments, grows wearisome.”  His eyes flickered upwards and pinned Celeborn with his gaze. “I want to see you yield to what your body so desperately desires.”

Celeborn folded his arms, attempting to gather his dignity about him. “You overestimate your charms, Thranduil.”

A soft chuckle escaped the Sindar King. “You are a terrible liar, melethron. But I forgive you.”  His fingers curled lightly around Celeborn’s chin as he leaned forward, brushing his mouth softly across the Elf Lord’s lips. He released his hold, smiling in satisfaction at the slightly dazed expression on Celeborn’s face. “Now, my Lord. Shall we continue this in the privacy of my chambers, or must I toss you over my shoulder again?”

Celeborn hesitated, clearly torn between the last shreds of his dignity and the burning need that had grown within him.

Thranduil arched an eyebrow, a smirk curling his lips. “I think you actually enjoyed being carried off like a hapless maiden to her ravishment, despite your protests to the contrary.”  His smirk grew as Celeborn shook his head vehemently in denial. “No?” He gave a mock sigh of disappointment. “Pity. Perhaps another time.”

With a low growl, Celeborn reached out and curled his fingers in the loose fabric of Thranduil’s robes, yanking him close.  “Do not count on it, melethron,” he ground out, before kissing him.

His surprise quickly gave way to delight and he returned Celeborn’s kiss, though the other elf did not let him gain the upper hand. He moaned softly at the pure passionate nature of it, the sound muffled by the press of Celeborn’s mouth against his.

Celeborn drew back, but did not release his hold of Thranduil’s robes. His blue eyes glittered with awakened heat, and the King felt his arousal ache in response.

“You want me willing, my Lord?” Celeborn whispered, breathing his words softly against Thranduil’s mouth.

He nodded slowly. “I do.” It was all he could do to keep from crushing that soft mouth against his again, to taste the heat and fire that seemed to have possessed the normally placid elf lord.

Celeborn’s tongue flicked out and teased the curve of his lower lip. “Then, my Lord Thranduil, willing is how you shall have me. But not, I think, how you imagine.”

Thranduil nodded again. “If you think you are up to it,” he purred, sliding his hands over Celeborn’s hips and pulling them against his own. “Then by all means. Lead the way.”

~Finis