This story begins in the year 1231 of the Second Age, Thranduil is only 486 years old. For all of his young life, Prince Thranduil has been forced to endure the perverse sexual needs of his father King Oropher. So possessive of him, Oropher is ove...
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Frowning deeply, Thranduil walked nervously across his sitting room toward the entry door. Pressing his ear against the slight crack, he listened for any sounds from the sentinel guards in the antechamber separating his private chambers from those of his father. There were always two guards posted once the king had retired for the evening, a measure Thranduil found to be unnecessary.
It seemed as though hours had passed since his father had checked on him, a recent routine that had become more than a little bothersome for the young prince. Questioning his father about it had only served to anger him while providing no answers. It was easier to simply pretend that he was already asleep to avoid further discussion of his fathers' ideas about his responsibilities and duties to the crown. Particularly when those duties have recently included that he consider the prospect of taking a wife, which was the last thing on his mind. It wasn't that he was directly opposed to the idea, he understood and accepted that it was required of him but there would be plenty of time for that later, he was still too young in his own opinion.
Thranduil felt his stomach twist into a painful knot at the sound of a door opening then close quietly, releasing a breath he had not realized he was holding as he heard Thalieth joking with the other sentinel. He allowed himself to relax somewhat as he waited a few more minutes before backing slowly away from the door.
Finally! His father had retired and he would have the rest of the evening for his own adventures. Smiling mischievously, he sprinted on tiptoe across his public sitting room toward the small door that opened into his private garden. Carefully turning the handle, he poked his head outside and glanced around in search of Aldalómës' familiar figure. Spotting him as he stepped out from behind one of the tall plants and into the moonlight, his stomach fluttered nervously as the glow washed over his lover, illuminating his long golden tresses. Quickly pressing his forefinger to his lips, he warned him to be quiet as he approached. Clasping hands, the two moved quickly yet silently across the sitting room to his bed chamber.
"I thought something happened!" Aldalómëwhispered, pulling him into a strong embrace, capturing his mouth in a deep searching kiss.
"Adar (Father) has retired for the evening." Thranduil whispered more from breathlessness than the need to be quiet as he buried his face in his neck. "He never comes out of his rooms once he has posted the second guard." He said quietly, enjoying the feel of his lovers' arms around him.
