Chapter Text
Tyelkormo shivered even though the night air was mild—no matter how desperately he tried to collect his thoughts, he found himself compelled to obey by a nefarious outside power.
His muscles ached with fatigue—he couldn’t even recall how many nights he’d been unable to sleep properly now.
She haunted his every dream, beckoning to him, guiding his every decision and step by performing acts so depraved and egregious that he’d been consumed by the single-minded desire to find her and beg her to make his dreams come true.
“At last,” Lúthien grinned and cocked her head as she stepped through a seemingly solid wall of dense undergrowth and thick bushes that parted like a curtain to let her pass. “I would have thought that a skilled hunter like you would make better time.”
Her cooing tone betrayed undeniable mockery—Tyelkormo bristled and looked over at the cage and bonds he and his brother had fashioned to capture and restrain the elusive princess as soon as they laid hands on her.
“Funny,” Lúthien grinned. “Why don’t you hop in there?”
Every fibre of Tyelkormo’s being tensed in reluctance and alarm, but he couldn’t resist or countermand the spell her chiming voice wove around him, drowning out all the warning bells ringing in his befuddled mind.
“What a beautiful sacrifice,” she purred as she tightened the leather bands around his wrists and ankles so tightly that he gasped in pain. “Hardly enough to make amends to my father, my people, and the Valar, but a good start, nevertheless.”
Chanting words Tyelkormo couldn’t begin to fathom, she stood motionlessly in a pool of moonlight.
It seemed to him that her lithe, alluring form was blurring and expanding into a many-limbed apparition of monstrous proportions, but he couldn’t fully trust his senses in this enchanted forest.
Lúthien didn’t interrupt her singing even as she stepped into the cage behind Tyelkormo—the lines between haunting dreams and terrifying reality melting rapidly—and started caressing his broad shoulders and silver hair almost tenderly.
“Truly, a marvellous offering,” she hummed and sank her sharp teeth into his flesh until she drew blood.
The scream building in Tyelkormo’s throat died unuttered as a moment of clarity allowed him to realise that he’d become the helpless deer destined to be slaughtered in a hallowed ritual.
“No,” he whimpered, thinking of his brother who was sleeping only a few paces away.
“He won’t know,” she promised primly, drawing arcane symbols on his nervously twitching back with a cool, smooth index. “He wouldn’t see us even if he looked right at the cage.”
As her fingers untied the laces of his breeches deftly, Tyelkormo was overcome with another, existential fear that was tinged with guilty lust and despicable desire.
“Will you have your way with me?” he asked breathlessly.
“Oh yes,” Lúthien laughed. “Not in the way you might imagine though. Lean forward, Great Hunter, don’t make this harder on yourself!”
Still firmly enmeshed in her otherworldly magic, Tyelkormo complied.
A mere moment later, her unnervingly steady hands curled around his hips to keep him from retreating even as another impossible appendage nudged against his bare behind, probing and teasing.
When he gave a small whimper, Lúthien merely chuckled. “Did you think I’d only inherited my mother’s beauty? My blood is ancient and fraught with things your feeble mind cannot even fathom.”
Closing his eyes, Tyelkormo tried to rely on his other, more primitive senses—thus blinded, he had to accept that the one they’d wanted to cage had grown countless flexible appendages which were now caressing his trembling legs and tickling his aching ribs while he gasped for breath.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out.
“Oh, you wanted to carry off something precious, didn’t you?” she purred knowingly. “That can be arranged. Just hold still!”
Tyelkormo screamed as one of these slick, tapered tentacles breached the integrity of his body and slithered into him resolutely.
“If a son of Fëanáro falls in the forest, and there’s no one there to hear, was he really defiled?” Lúthien mused philosophically, but he could hear that her voice had grown strained, and her hands had turned almost unbearably hot against his skin as she pushed into him ever further.
“What—” he whined, disoriented and panicked but patently unable to escape the grasp of her physical and mental prowess.
“Hush, it will be over soon,” she croaked and lapped eagerly at the still-bleeding wound she’d torn.
Feeling so full that he thought he’d burst like an elfling’s plaything at any moment, Tyelkormo tried to focus on breathing through the corrupting mix of sharp pain and maddening pleasure.
“Here it comes,” Lúthien moaned, her fingers tightening violently around his bruised hips.
Tyelkormo, who’d left his seed in many a body, was entirely taken aback by the solid foreign body that was propelled into him as Lúthien convulsed against him with a deafening, haunting shriek.
When she withdrew, the sudden emptiness almost made him collapse into a boneless heap of agonised weakness.
“Please,” he begged. “Don’t…That can’t be all!”
Her bright, sapient gaze rested on his pitiful, wretched display of crazed need for a seemingly endless moment.
“I shan’t be ungenerous—this is, after all, a peace offering, isn’t it?” she mused. “You have to be careful not to dislodge my little gift, but methinks I can grant you a shadow of what you desire.”
Thus, she turned around and—while denying him the privilege of entering her body—she allowed him to rut into the tight space between her clenched thighs like the mindless animal he’d become.
“And you thought you’d bring me low,” she cackled as he panted and groaned, afraid to touch her for fear that her very skin was oozing mind-altering substances that would leave him addled for days. “Silly boy!”
Tyelkormo did not think that—he still couldn’t conjure up any rational reflection.
All he knew for sure was that he’d die here if he didn’t find release soon.