23. Thranduil | Sweeter than poetry (modern)

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Alright so just a little bit of explanation before we get into it: I'm going to label this as a modern AU but it's more like a semi-modern AU because the fantasy races/languages and such still exist and it's had an impact on history and such. Long story short: imagine Tolkien's world and our own as they both are colliding right now. That's the AU. Yes, my word count got out of hand again. The poems referenced in this are: Ozymandias by Percy Shelley, La Belle Dame sans Merci by John Keats and Porphyria's Lover by Robert Browning.

word count: 9.9k

warnings: NSFW content, smut, older man/younger woman, dom/sub dynamics, oral sex (fem! receiving), vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, edging, praise, degradation, overstimulation, unprotected sex

Sweeter than poetry

You smiled uneasily as Legolas left you after having put a drink in your hand, smiling at Gimli who had just entered the room. There was music playing throughout the ridiculously lavish house but you didn't want to cling onto your friend like some lost puppy, even if you hardly knew anyone here.

Legolas was an elf, which naturally meant his family was rich with the long lives that they had to build a living for themselves. However, this particular elf came from a line of what had once been royalty. The country had lost the need for a royal family in recent centuries and so Legolas' father had ended up as a high-up politician in the slow transition from monarchy to democracy that he had lived through in his immortal life.

But you weren't big on politics: your country was being run smoothly enough and the population were very content so you had never felt the need to dig into the political side of your friend's family - you were much more interested to hear his stories from when he had officially been a prince. You lingered around for a while to see if the blond elf in question would return but he seemed intent on greeting everyone - he was the host of this party, after all - and so you decided that you would give yourself a tour of the house instead. The celebration was to celebrate the feast of starlight, a once traditional elvish holiday that had become more commercialised in recent years and was really now just an excuse for students to have a party in this very house.

Most people were on the ground floor which, naturally, made you gravitate to the upper ones. The larger halls and corridors were lit by chandeliers. The elvish architecture was clear in all the intricate detailings upon the ceilings and doors in particular and you could tell that this was a family who were proud of their heritage. You were utterly taken aback by Legolas' home and the grandeur of it. You lived in student accommodation that felt more cramped than a cardboard box at times and had a shared kitchen that drove you utterly crazy with how other residents left it. But it's what your student loan could afford (stretched by the fact that while you would put up with sharing a kitchen, you outright refused to share a bathroom with anyone but your roommate) and so you would have to be content with it. You wouldn't be able to afford such a home in your mortal life but it made you glad to at least know that Legolas wasn't the snobby sort and he made it very clear that he was grateful for what he had.

The music faded off into the distant boom of bass as you made your way further into the west wing of the first floor and you found two grand doors that seemed to almost call out to you. Of all the rooms in his mansion of a home, what were the odds that anyone was behind this door? Pushing it just slightly ajar, you peered inside to find a dimly lit library, a gasp leaving your lips which had curled up into a grin. You quietly stepped inside, closing the door behind you, fingers slipping over the polished wood that was engraved to resemble a forest of towering trees, butterflies flying over its canopy that was placed much higher than your head - the ceilings here were very high, you noted.

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