{The sensation of the chains moving against his skin is pleasurable. Maglor has likely been imprisoned or in chains more often than he likes to recall, but for Thranduil, the experience could be arousing. He welcomes his husband into his arms and finally gives him a heated kiss, thanking him and inviting him into his rooms.}
Ask Mingjue if you can walk on the beach with me.
{His little crab tucks himself into his comfortable shell. Only one claw can be seen, but there is the impression that the hard-worker is sleepy. Thranduil follows Maglor's glance and smiles.}
I am not afraid of what others think or say. I choose those I call family. If your family or mine disagrees with...us...so be it. They cannot stop me.
{He pushes up Maglor's shirt with an eager smirk.}
[ Only one person has his permission to place chains on him. Thranduil.
Maglor has no fear when with his husband. He remembers the pleasant feeling of just...placing himself fully at Thranduil's mercy, including the drugs the other Elf had given him without permission or prior knowledge.
He hums into the kiss, pressing greedily into it and stepping into his husband's rooms at the welcome inside. ]
He gives me free reign to go where I please. So long as I hold up my end of our contract, he does not control my movements.
[ Such a good hard working crab! Maglor nuzzles a pointed ear in answer to that smirk, and gives it a playful lick before pulling back to help in removing his clothes. ]
They can stop neither of us. You are mine just as I am yours.
{There are only two scenarios in which he would do so: one, for pleasure and two, to hold Maglor fast in case he loses control. Even the drugs he has given him - playfully and at light doses - are tests. Thranduil knows he has to be strong; Maglor trusts him to stop him and Fëanorians are mighty. They contain the blood of the first Elves and that is no small matter. To imprison his husband, Thranduil will need to be cunning and swift.
But also loving too - in order to bring Maglor back. The real Maglor. Not the war-mongering prince.
He nuzzles their lips together lazily, grinning at the answer.}
Good. I want to sit with you on the sand.
{He barely bites back a groan, eyes closing suddenly at the lick. Giving a shudder, he immediately refocuses on making his husband as bare as him. It's only fair! The clothes are tossed and Thranduil chuckles like a naughty Elfling.}
You have proven that; I did not expect your loyalty - ever - but I value it now that I have it.
[ For pleasure or to restrain him from insanity, both are Thranduil's right as Maglor's husband. Maglor relies on the other's strength and goodness. So he doesn't question anything Thranduil does, or gives him.
He hasn't been disappointed.
He smiles at the nuzzling, then grins at that groan. He chuckles at how eager his beloved is in stripping him, per usual, and it has his eyes bright with fond amusement. He steps out of the pants and stands boldly nude, legs parted without any hint of shame or discomfort. ]
You have shown yourself worthy of my loyalty and my love.
Soon the world will come to life as the weather warms. I cannot recall seeing a sea in Spring; that is an experience I wish to share with you.
{And a tiny crab - who hopefully grows mighty enough that Thranduil feels safe putting him on the sand with his fellows. He is protective by nature and once his heart is involved, he can be hurt easily. Maglor has not hurt him. The past tears and stings and frightens him, yet they must move on. If there is goodness in the Fëanorian line, he is prepared to cultivate it with the same care he shows his rescues.
Though shame needn't be part of it! Thranduil laughs again at Maglor's stance, running greedy hands down his husband's chest and up his back.}
I will protect you. {From himself if necessary.} You have walked alone for generations. No more, love.
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Ask Mingjue if you can walk on the beach with me.
{His little crab tucks himself into his comfortable shell. Only one claw can be seen, but there is the impression that the hard-worker is sleepy. Thranduil follows Maglor's glance and smiles.}
I am not afraid of what others think or say. I choose those I call family. If your family or mine disagrees with...us...so be it. They cannot stop me.
{He pushes up Maglor's shirt with an eager smirk.}
no subject
Maglor has no fear when with his husband. He remembers the pleasant feeling of just...placing himself fully at Thranduil's mercy, including the drugs the other Elf had given him without permission or prior knowledge.
He hums into the kiss, pressing greedily into it and stepping into his husband's rooms at the welcome inside. ]
He gives me free reign to go where I please. So long as I hold up my end of our contract, he does not control my movements.
[ Such a good hard working crab! Maglor nuzzles a pointed ear in answer to that smirk, and gives it a playful lick before pulling back to help in removing his clothes. ]
They can stop neither of us. You are mine just as I am yours.
no subject
But also loving too - in order to bring Maglor back. The real Maglor. Not the war-mongering prince.
He nuzzles their lips together lazily, grinning at the answer.}
Good. I want to sit with you on the sand.
{He barely bites back a groan, eyes closing suddenly at the lick. Giving a shudder, he immediately refocuses on making his husband as bare as him. It's only fair! The clothes are tossed and Thranduil chuckles like a naughty Elfling.}
You have proven that; I did not expect your loyalty - ever - but I value it now that I have it.
no subject
[ For pleasure or to restrain him from insanity, both are Thranduil's right as Maglor's husband. Maglor relies on the other's strength and goodness. So he doesn't question anything Thranduil does, or gives him.
He hasn't been disappointed.
He smiles at the nuzzling, then grins at that groan. He chuckles at how eager his beloved is in stripping him, per usual, and it has his eyes bright with fond amusement. He steps out of the pants and stands boldly nude, legs parted without any hint of shame or discomfort. ]
You have shown yourself worthy of my loyalty and my love.
no subject
{And a tiny crab - who hopefully grows mighty enough that Thranduil feels safe putting him on the sand with his fellows. He is protective by nature and once his heart is involved, he can be hurt easily. Maglor has not hurt him. The past tears and stings and frightens him, yet they must move on. If there is goodness in the Fëanorian line, he is prepared to cultivate it with the same care he shows his rescues.
Though shame needn't be part of it! Thranduil laughs again at Maglor's stance, running greedy hands down his husband's chest and up his back.}
I will protect you. {From himself if necessary.} You have walked alone for generations. No more, love.