On the king's command

The effect of elven wine

Bard had no time to respond to the kiss, because Thranduil immediately drew his head away again. He only left his hot breath on the man's lips, which lingered there and made it impossible for Bard to form any sensible thoughts.

"I see you are turning red, little king", the elf teased and smirked at Bard.

Nonchalantly he filled his cup with wine again and brought it to his lips. Slowly, he licked the rim of the glass, before taking a large gulp of crisp and strong elven wine. It felt like torture to Bard's eyes. 

"Are you staring?", Thranduil inquiried. "That's quite rude, you know."

"No, I wasn ... I'm sorry, my king", Bard stuttered and turned more red. 

"So you were staring then?", the king continued. "Do you like what you see?"

The elven king lifted one eyebrow, then gave Bard a seductive smirk from over the rim of the glass. He drank another gulp. A small drop of wine hang on his bottom lip.

"You have ... there", Bard managed to say and pointed with his finger.

Thranduil slowly licked his lips, and he looked so attractive Bard almost couldn't take this. Was the king playing with him? What were his intentions?

"Are you playing with me, little king?", the elf then asked, a glint in his eyes. "Because if you are, you will be punished for your behaviour."

So the king was playing with him. Bard had to think hard. How was he going to escape this situation? He couldn't let himself fall for this, he couldn't let the king do anything he would regret later. He'd had too much wine.

"Oh no, you must be mistaken", Bard replied, trying to tear his gaze away from the beautiful king's beautiful lips. "Why would I be doing such a thing?"

"Because you find me hot."

There was a silence that felt like it could be cut with a knife. Bard stared at Thranduil, completely taken aback. This was going out of control. He didn't want to be dragged into something that couldn't be. Either Thranduil was just using him, for fun for a night. Or he really meant this, which wasn't any better, because Bard didn't want to be a lover of the elven king. He couldn't. What would his children think?

"I ... I must go now", Bard stammered, then got up to his feet. 

"I don't think so", came the reply. Thranduil stood up in one movement, which was as smooth as ever, regardless the amount of wine he had drunk. 

Bard tried to get to the door, but Thranduil was faster. Before the man could reach the handle, his wrists were grabbed by the elven king and he was locked in place. Menacingly, the elf bent his head down towards the man and gave him a stare, that made Bard want to be anyplace but here. Then he king pressed his lips against Bard's and this time, he didn't retreat right away, but kissed him passionatedly, his hands still holding onto Bard's wrists. 

The defence of Bard broke down and he found himself completely within the power of Thranduil. Said one pushed Bard back against the nearest wall and trapped him between it and his slender body. Bard could only close his eyes and kiss him back, with all the secret love he held for the elf, knowing, that it would never be returned. After a while, they broke apart for air and Thranduil whispered into Bard's ear:

"Do you still want to go?"

Then he placed a wet kiss right under the man's ear and sucked slightly. A moan escaped Bard's throat, which he couldn't repress.

"N..no", he managed to say, before the elf caught his lips again. This time he opened his mouth, and suddenly Bard felt Thranduil's tongue inside his mouth, exploring and teasing. The king of Dale felt rather powerless under this commanding elf.

Suddenly Thranduil drew away and took a step back. He still held Bard's wrists, though. With a pleading look, Bard stared at him, wanting him to close the distance again. But Thranduil still had the power over the situation and he wouldn't give it away so easily.

"You will come again tomorrow, Bard, king of Dale", he ordered. "Good night."

Bard stood there dumbfounded. But Thranduil had already turned around and strode over to the large window, looking out. It was a miracle to Bard, that the door to the room opened in just this moment and a guard ushered him outside. Maybe he had been standing there all along and just waited for some invisible sign of the king to open it. Still confused and rather aroused Bard walked to the door. As he left the room, the elven king still didn't look at him. It was as if he wasn't even interested in the man. 

Back in his room, Bard fell on his bed and had to breathe deeply for some minutes. First of all to push away the thoughts of Thranduil's tongue in his mouth, secondly to restrain his mind from wandering further down the path of what could have happened that night. Instead, he reminded himself of his manservant Elain, who had told him to come here. Why had he done that? Had he foreseen something like this happening? And what was the point? THere really couldn't come something out of it.

But regardless his efforts to restrain himself to sensible thinking, he went back to Thranduil's chambers and replayed the last few moments in his head. The kissing, the being pushed against the wall and the firm grip of Thranduil's slender fingers on his wrists. God, how he looked forward to tomorrow evening.

Hey there, I'm sorry I'm bad at updating, but I have a lot to do. I have a life. So don't be mad at me. Hope you like this!