Current mood:	tired
Current music:	Nothing but the tapping of my keys.

Parts 1-4 of "Bared Identities", the epic Thranduil/Legolas puke-fest. NWS, anytime, anywhere.
My sporking of the author's previous fic, "Mistaken Identity"

Title: ‘Bared Identities’

SEQUEL to the PWP giant spider turd, ‘Mistaken Identity’. *Strongly* advise you read beforehand.

Author: Bone Fauna

Pairings: Thranduil/Legolas

Summary: Legolas is devastated and confused after his father mistakenly
and unknowingly ravaged him in ‘Mistaken Identity’. He can never let
Thranduil know what happened, but the king is far more observant than
his son thinks...

Rating: NC-17 (varies from chapter to chapter) The quality, however, does not vary. It's all bad.

Warnings: Angst, & incest – duh! ;) Oh, and very, very, very mild
swearing (practically non-existent except for once or twice).

Disclaimer: Don’t own them, can’t afford them, not mine – all Tolkien.
Except the plot and angst and OCs and slashy parts – that’s me! : P
Author’s notes: Written especially for all those of you who gave me fb for
‘MI’ – much appreciated, and encouraged me to write this. People...encouraged her to write more?! Thanx *MURDERS* for being so patient. Exams were okay. WE DON'T GIVE A SHIT. Yay, we have story with plot, No, just crap. - & chapters!!! That means more crap. Reminder - For the purposes of this story, Legolas is 46 –
which would roughly be 17 in human years. Majority is reached at 50.
‘Malthenfin’ basically means golden haired. ‘Goldgwen’ = ‘wise maiden’.
Taken the liberty of also inventing and naming Legolas’ two elder
brothers. ‘Bórsael’ = faithful and wise one. ‘Maergorv’ = good, vigour.
And I’ve made up my own rules about fading and binding. Also, I
consider ‘Ada’ to mean ‘Father’, not dad or daddy. Sorry, Tolkien's languages don't work that way. ‘ / ’ denotes thoughts.

Archives: If you want it, take it. Just tell me the address so I can admire
my work on a new site!

Feedback: Yes please! That’s why there’s an email address & LJ!
Pllleeeeeeaaaaasssssse? And if for some reason you’re inspired to do
artwork, by all means go ahead. Just let me know where I can drool over
it! I am so tempted to break Deleterius's rules and make a comment about this person apparently being horrendously conceited for begging for a pat on the back for this shit. Oops, looks like I just did.

Conceptional Beta: Aliaself. All hail her, for she made this story
possible… or readable, at the least! *g* Sorry, it's not readable. Understandable, yes...unfortunately.

By the same author: ‘Majority’, starring Glorfindel/Elladan; its sequel,
‘Another Heaviness of Soul’, starring Glorfindel/Elrohir/Elladan. And, of
course, ‘Mistaken Identity’ starring Thranduil/Legolas.



‘Bared Identities’

~Part 1. Prologue.~

Snip snip. Legolas has a dream where his father starts giving him a hand job and then calls him a whore. The audience is horrified (or maybe just nauseated), and then Legolas wakes up. IT WUZ ALL A DWEAM!

Still crying, and feeling ill, weak, confused, and generally miserable, just like us, Legolas crawled his way into his bed, and huddled up under the sheets,
trying to find a measure of comfort and warmth from his tormented mind.
He ached all over, not from just sleeping on the floor, but from the abuse
he had been forced to bear last night in his father’s bed. Finally, a tiny snippet of reason. Don't expect it to last.

Legolas began sobbing harder as memories of last night resurfaced
stronger than ever. It was all his fault. He was such a fool! He never
should have gone to his father’s room for comfort; never should have
fallen asleep waiting for his Ada. It wasn’t Thranduil’s fault that he had
thought Legolas was Malthenfin. That little snippet of a reasonable reaction to such trauma in the last paragraph? It just took a swan dive out the window and left us a note saying "Goodbye cruel Internet", because it couldn't take being around this type of crap anymore. Honestly, at some point...Leggy should want to do some Kin-slaying. Seriously.

Legolas whimpered and rolled over, trying to ignore his aching flesh. *I
will have you seeing stars* Thranduil had said. *I shall treasure this gift
you give me, and I will try not to abuse it*. Legolas’ mouth twisted in
irony at this last statement. Thranduil had said more than he could have
ever realised, but Legolas was grateful nonetheless. Although the king had
had no idea it was Legolas’ virginity which he took, at least he had been a
gentle and attentive lover. So incredibly attentive, in fact, that he didn't even notice he was screwing the wrong guy, or that his mysterious lover clearly wanted him to STOP. And he had indeed given Legolas pleasure. Legolas had seen stars. Just like 2001: A Space Odyssey! And then he turned into Cirdan lying in a bed, staring at a black monolith! It was more than anyone could hope for when being raped. Remember this, kiddies: when you're being raped, make sure you have an orgasm, or else ask for a full refund on your virginity and dignity! Now excuse me while I smash my head against the nearest wall.

Legolas realised that he should be getting up soon in order to be ready for
breakfast. However, the thought of having to face his father, especially
after his nightmare, terrified him. He couldn’t do it, not yet anyway. He
would wait for the love-bite to fade, and hopefully by then he would have
enough courage to meet his Ada without vomiting or breaking down into
tears. Damn, why are there these half-way reasonable reactions to rape embedded in this tripe? And why does this author actually have more than a smidgen of talent with prose? It'd be more palatable if all she could do was mash her fist against the keyboard and write like "legolas by laura".

Snip snip

‘Bared Identities’, by Bone Fauna
~Part 2~

Thranduil woke up feeling much better than he had in a long time. He was
warm and comfortable, but most importantly, his body sung with the sated
feeling of having had a really good fuck. Hmm. Tolkien's Elves. Singing bodies. "A really good fuck". One of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesn't belong...

Orcs, I'd fully expect to use the word "fuck". Some Men, sure. (I'm sure the Rohirrim would have an appropriately earthy and crude equivalent.) Elves, especially the nicer ones, not so much. At least not with the intensity that "fuck" has in English.

Thranduil moved his hand out to feel the space next to him. Empty. The space between your pointy ears is empty too, don'tchaknow. The king wasn’t worried, however. Being a brainless moron is something you get used to after a few centuries. He had normally requested in the past that his lover’s leave before sunrise. He had said it was so he could keep some semblance of dignity, but in reality, it was more to preserve his modesty in front of his sons. So, they just sort of come wandering in there in the mornings, then? Though all three of his children, even Legolas, were old enough to know he sought out the company of others from time to time, he still preferred to keep his nightly activities as private and discreet as possible so as to not embarrass his sons, or himself in front of his children.

Snip snip. Thranduil runs into Malwhatever in the hallway.
“Hello, darling!” Thranduil greeted brightly. “Miss me?” Every gay Deleterian needs to beat this author with the combined works of Tolkien for being such a damned stereotypical disgrace. I'm actually imagining Thranduil combining that "Hello, darling", with an exaggerated eyelash-bat and a little limp-wristed hand wave. And before the rather shocked Malthenfin could reply, Thranduil leaned in and consumed him. Cannibalism FTW!
the elf’s mouth in a passionate, dizzying kiss. Malthenfin was a little slow in responding, but Thranduil didn’t wonder at this. After all, it wasn’t
everyday the King of Mirkwood made such open displays outside his
bedroom with his lovers! What was that about supposedly protecting his dignity again?

Snip snip.

“Listen, Thranduil, - Sire. I’ve been seeing someone now for –”

“You’re *seeing* someone?! Like… a ‘boyfriend’?” BOYFRIEND. TOLKIEN. ELVES. WHAT. WHAAAAAAAAAAAT.

Snip snip. Thranduil lets Malwhatever go, and looks for Legolas after some pointless conversation with others.

In the end, Thranduil took the hint that Legolas was in no mood to talk to
anyone. He was playing his latest emo-music CD really loudly. With one last punch at the door, Thranduil stormed off to his office to work on some files on his Mac Powerbook, his good mood from that morning having all
but vanished in confusion and frustration.


t.b.c.
lend-ind = sweet-heart
Tologèl = (OC)‘trusty star’
Goldgwen = (OC) ‘wise maiden’
Beta’d by Aliaself – thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!
Homepage: AN LJ LINK. REMOVED.
Email: REMOVED.
~I’m a feedback monster. Feed me! Well, you heard what she said. Oh, and you can find her email address on the original Moria site.

‘Bared Identities’, by Bone Fauna
~Part 3~

Snips some pointless crap.

Thranduil sighed. Now *that* brought up some bitter-sweet memories.
His wife had died giving birth to Legolas. Thranduil and his wife had
never been good lovers, but they had been the best of friends and
companions. He was very distressed when his best friend, confidant, and
ruler-in-arms had died, but she had left a wonderful gift at her parting. Massive debt...oh, wait, Legolas.
Thranduil sighed again, draining the tea, as he lost himself in memories of
his wife, and the last child she gave which now was the cause of growing
anxiety to the king.

Snip snip. Thranduil finally sneaks in to see Legolas.

With very light fingers, Thranduil touched the mark, leaning in slightly to
get a better look. Despite the lack of strong light, there was no mistaking
the bruise for what it was. A love-bite. A passion mark. Just call it a damn hickey and be done with it, already.

Thranduil didn’t much like the looks of that. Who had been man-handling
his son? His *under-aged*, 46 year old son, at that! In all his investigating
today, no-one had mentioned a possible lover, or admitted to being such.
So this ‘lover’ must be fairly new in Legolas’ life. If indeed, the said elf
could be called a ‘lover’. Had Legolas been willing? Is that why he was
now upset? And how far had they gone?

Thranduil was feeling a strange mix of emotions rush through him, but he
had no vent, not wanting to disturb Legolas from his sleep, which the boy
looked as though he could use. Dark circles ran under his eyes, and he
looked as unhealthy as an immortal being could. Thranduil clenched his
hand into a fist to prevent it from shaking his son awake in order for him
to question the boy. Why had this lover been kept a secret? Who could it
possibly be? Were they male or female? Was it love, or something more
carnal? Although Legolas was just approaching the age where his sexual
awareness would be awakening, he had never yet expressed any desire in
finding a mate, whether for short or long-term. Thranduil was worried
now that Legolas had perhaps been abused against his will. Surely that’s
why he had locked himself up? By why did he refuse his father’s
presence? What did he fear?

Thranduil sighed, distressed. He rested his head in his hands, and
wondered what he could do; what he would say to his son when he woke
up.

“Ada?”

Thranduil jumped and twisted about, looking at his son, but noticed that
Legolas was still asleep. Legolas whimpered again and then rolled onto his
back, now facing his father. “No… no…” Legolas moaned, and Thranduil
tried to make soothing noises to hopefully ease his son’s sleep.

“Shhh, Legolas. Go to sleep, meld-pen. Go to sleep. It’s okay, I’m here.
Sleep now.”

“What…. no… Ada, why..? Why are you doing this, Ada?”

Thranduil’s eyebrows rose, and he felt genuinely confused. What was
troubling his son? He stroked his son’s face, hoping that maybe he could
find out the truth of his son’s problem by talking to him in his sleep.

“What’s wrong, Legolas? What am I doing?”

Legolas gasped, and his face twitched reflexively. “Ada, please stop. This
is… not right.”

“What isn’t?” Thranduil asked, confused, but also feeling a sense of dread
build within him. “What’s wrong? What am I doing to upset you?”

“Ada, please… It burns… it burns!” Legolas started sobbing, and twisted
slightly in the bed. It was then, to Thranduil’s growing horror, that he
noticed Legolas was erect. “Ada, please! It’s me… Legolas! …So
confused... don’t understand… what you are doing… Ada… I don’t
know… Ada! Ai! It burns!”

Thranduil found himself trembling with a horrible urge to vomit rising in
his throat, and Legolas was growing more and more distressed. “Legolas,
please! You’re scaring me! What’s going on?” The feeling in his stomach
became a horrible, sinking suspicion. But he didn’t dare dwell on it yet.
“Legolas!”

Legolas sobbed and moaned. “Didn’t mean… it to happen… Only wanted
your company… lonely… waited… please, Ada, - I’m sorry…. My fault!”

OH NOOOOOO!

Thranduil suppressed a sob as all the pieces fell into place. He looked at
the passion mark on his son’s neck again, and memories of last night
flooded his mind. He had found the elf lying on his bed, uninvited and
asleep. It had been dark. He had gagged and blindfolded the elf before he
awoke, - before he had even seen his face or asked permission, never
allowing the elf the chance to refuse and get away, tying him to the bed.
/Oh Valar!/ He had sucked on the elf’s ear; given him a love-bite. The elf
was gone by morning. Malthenfin had not recognised the escapade of last
night. And Legolas had hidden in his room, and now he dreamt with a
bruise upon his throat…

Thranduil chocked That sounds dirty. Or possibly fatal. *prefers latter option* and tears fell from his eyes as the awful realisation of what had happened hit him.

“Elbereth, forgive me!” he whispered, utterly devastated. Oh, tish-tosh, the Valar always rubber-stamp incestuous relationships in these sorts of fics anyway. Quite making a fuss about it.

“Ada!” Legolas still writhed on the bed, his hips now arching pleadingly.
“Please, no more! It burns, - I ache! Stop teasing... Ai!”

Thranduil bit his fist to prevent himself from wailing in despair, only
letting go when he realised he was drawing blood. He watched as Legolas
whimpered and twisted next to him on the bed. After a few moments, the
young elf collapsed and began sobbing bitterly. “I’m sorry! …Never
should have come to your bed… Didn’t know… I didn’t know… It’s all
my fault…”

Snip snip. Legolas continues freaking out. Thranduil solves this with...MOLESTATION!

His mind still clouded in grief, guilt and despair, Thranduil’s hand moved
without much thought down between their two bodies, and tenderly
wrapped itself about his son’s clothed member. Legolas gasped and began
to tremble violently. It didn’t take long for him to come, having been kept
on edge for so long now. He clung desperately to his father in his sleep,
the sleeping draught keeping him firmly under, and his father in turn
hugged him close as he rode out his climax. ... *is very quiet*

Legolas then fell limp in Thranduil’s arms, still sobbing softly. Thranduil
found that he was also still crying, clinging desperately to his beloved
child's dick which he had corrupted. Probably gave him an STD, too. More time passed, and Legolas eventually cried himself into a deeper sleep. Thranduil reluctantly loosened his hold on the dick, and gently lowered his son back into bed by his dick, pulling the quilts up over
Legolas and tucking him in. The feelings of self-loathing, disgust, and
horror were poisoning him, and he did not know how he was going to face
tomorrow – or his poor, innocent son – ever again.

For a moment Thranduil considered staying. Why, so you can touch his dick again?He wanted to stay, to hold Legolas's dick close and whisper reassuring words to both his son and himself. Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that's what you really want, perv.
Yet he knew it would only complicate matters more if Legolas woke up
and found himself in his father’s arms. Ooh, "complicate"? No shit, buddy. He did not want to distress Legolas any more than necessary. Of course it's necessary to distress Legolas; he's the fandom's punching-bag, after all. Reluctantly, he decided he would leave his son to sleep alone, but would set someone to keep a watch by his door.

Blah blah, snip snip. Thranduil wangsts some more. I really don't give a crap about that at this point. HE JUST ABUSED HIS SON AGAIN, UNDER THE PRETEXT OF GIVING HIM COMFORT. AAAAUUUUGH I HATE YOU FANDOM WHY MUST YOU BE RIDDLED WITH INSANE PERVERTS GRRR MALGANIS SMASH

t.b.c.
Ada = father
meld hên = dear child
meld pen = dear one
Beta’d by Aliaself – thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! NOOOOO

‘Bared Identities’, by Bone Fauna
~Part 4~

[warning: non-con & mild-violence, but its just a dream ;) *SCREAMS* MILD!? YOU CALL SOMEONE BEING RAPED UP THE ASS UNTIL THEY BLEED ALL OVER THE PLACE "MILD NON-CON"?!
]

Thranduil walked back to his room and locked the door
behind him. He stared distantly at the bed in which he had
performed the awful deed of raping his son’s innocence.
With sudden fury, Thranduil stormed over and wrenched
all the sheets and cloth off the bed and threw them to the
ground. He had a strong urge to order them to be burned,
but held back only because his wife had favoured this quilt,
as she had helped to make it. AAAAUUUGH. I AM REDUCED TO INCOHERENCE. Unable to bear being in this
room any longer, Thranduil turned around, unlocked the
door, and left for his study.

When he reached his office, he was at a loss as to what to
do with himself and began pacing. There was no work to be
done in order to distract him from his thoughts. Although
he knew he would eventually have to deal with this
situation, at the moment he simply wanted to huddle in a
corner somewhere and have someone tell him that it was all
a bad dream. No, it's a bad fic. A joke of a plot, characterization, adherence to what Tolkien actually wrote.... Surely he could not have raped his
son? It was a pod person. Not Legolas. Well, why not? He's pretty, blonde, has long hair and a slender build...he should just have "FANDOM RAPE TOY" tattooed on his head.

/Oh Valar, I want to die!/ How do you think I feel after reading this garbage?

Thranduil choked back a sob, and fearing his legs might not
be able to support him much longer, he sank down to the
floor in a small space between one of his bookshelves and a
couch. Pulling his legs close against his chest, Thranduil
found that he could fight the tears no longer, and he began
to sob quietly into his knees. How was he ever going to
face his son again? How would they sort through this
problem; how could he possibly make everything alright
again? Should he bring the matter up, or still feign
ignorance? Thranduil didn’t know what to do. Maybe it
would be better to send Legolas away for a while, so that
the boy might have a chance to work out his emotions
without the presence of his father looming over him. Yet
Thranduil loathed that option, for he did not want to let his
son out of his care. He didn’t want to lose Legolas! Uh, I think you just did.

Thranduil has a dream. Tragically, Freddy Krueger does not appear and kill him.

…He stood in the Great Hall of his home, in front of the
throne, which was slightly raised from the floor by a few
steps. He heard a noise and smiled to himself, realising that
the person he had summoned for was at last coming. Oh, my bad. It IS Freddy, and he's transformed into a giant spider to eat your ass, Thranduil.

Through one of the side doors, two guards marched in,
carrying a slender elf who was struggling desperately to get
away. The guards halted before the stairs, and threw the
young elf down on the ground. He was now sobbing
bitterly and shaking in fear.

Legolas.

For some reason, the sight brought a delicious grin to
Thranduil’s lips, and he nodded his thanks to the guards,
dismissing them. Thranduil borrowed Elrandy's EvilVillain schtick from Prisoner of Imladris.

Blah blah evil snip

At this, Legolas began to sob harder. He was doubled over
and holding himself, rocking back and forth in obvious
distress. It's PunchingBag!Legolas, from...every LOTR bondage/abuse/rapefic, ever.

“My dear son,” Thranduil said slowly, teasingly, bending
down in front of the youth. “Whatever ails you? Don’t be
upset, my sweet, lovely son. Do not cry now. Ada is here.” Now I'm totally hearing the "Come to Daddy" line from the end of Hellraiser. You know, after Andy Robinson's good-guy character get skinned by his evil brother, and the evil brother wears the skin to impersonate him? Yeah, that's totally what's happening here, except Hellraiser was, like, an infinite amount of times cooler than this.

Snip snip like a Cenobite's knives.

“Oh, such pretty words,” And such cliched dialog. Thranduil crooned, tilting his head to the side and caressing the boy’s face with his predatory gaze. “Such pretty words, from such a pretty mouth…” No, no, no, that's purty mouth. You want to be like the creepy backwoods inbreds in Deliverance, Thranduil, then do it right.

Legolas whimpered and tried to pull his head back, but
Thranduil’s grip on his chin was like iron. The king
grinned, cat-like, Cats smile? Has he turned into Telvildo? and then bowed his head slightly to taste’s his sons lips. Om nom nom!

Snip snip

More tears ran down the youth’s face, and he bit his lip and
slowly turned around, moving onto his hands and knees on
the cold, marble floor. His shaking only increased as
Thranduil began to cut his clothes off his body with a
small, ceremonial dagger. What, the Badfic Clothing-Destroying Dagger?

Snip snip. EvilDream!Thranduil forces WimpyDream!Legolas to give him a BJ.

“Take me, Legolas,” Thranduil said, grinning demonically.
“Take me in that sweet little mouth of yours which has
been taught to beg so prettily.” Damn, this dialog is ASS.

Legolas’ eyes darted down to the dark, pulsing member
standing proudly Why are penises always personified this way? It just seems silly. from Thranduil’s leggings. He looked
back up at his father in panic, shaking his head in shock.

“No?” Thranduil drawled, EvilDreamSoutherner!Thranduil makes his dastardly appearance. the grin disappearing into a frown. Turn that frown upside down...oh, whatever. “Right then.” And that last line? Totally delivered with a stereotypical British accent. I swear, the King of Mirkwood's like a bad actor. And he slapped Legolas hard across the face, sending the youth sprawling onto the hard floor.

Before Legolas could roll off his stomach, Thranduil
lunged on top of him. With a knee he viciously forced the
boy’s legs apart, and stretching Legolas wide, he entered
his son in one sharp, violent thrust.

Snip snip. Legolas is brutally raped.

…Thranduil woke screaming, but it was a scream of fear
and horror. He only stopped when he felt his stomach
contract and heave. He bent over, promptly throwing up
everything inside onto the polished, wooden floor.

Snip snip. That's all for now because I can't take any more of it. In closing, I hate you, Lord of the Rings fandom. I hate you SO MUCH.