Elven Judgement

Peace was slowly being restored to Ulthuan. With the Sword of Khaine at his side, Malekith's decapitated head had been burned in front of the courts, to show them all what fate awaited another monster like Malekith. For the past weeks, the fires of war were slowly being extinguished on the elven homeland, prisonners were dragged in chains, all whom had supported Malekith in his insane bid for power to be punished for their treachery.

Tyrion had taken the throne, and wasn't sure if he would keep the power for himself or discard it once things were stabilized enough. But for now, he had taken to do his best to enjoy his position as Ulthuan's ruler and watching over the reconstruction efforts and the strengthening of the armies. And every day, various prisoners were brought for judgement: nobles who regretted, some who didn't. Generals who has trusted Malekith's claim, some who did not but had felt he was Ulthuan's best hope against Chaos. Mages that had trusted the visions from their gods, some who had bowed to Malekith out of fear...

Tyrion passed judgement on all. And, today, a very particular prisoner was brought in front of him, and it was brought my a most interestign person.

"So this is why you left for the past weeks." Tyrion nodded towards Morathi.

"It was, my love." Morathi's sensual voice rose, making all the men in attendance hard, and all the women's nipples stiff.

But Morathi only ever had eyes for Tyrion, the heir of Aenarion. Her lover, her master, her partner. With the same confidence she extruted in all her actions, she walked the steps to the throne, yanking the chair and pulling her prisoner with her.

"Kneel before your master." Morathi's lustful sweetness disappeared for the duration of that sentence, the words spat more than said.

With a final push to her back, Alarielle fell to her knees. The blonde woman, former ruler of Avelorn, Everqueen of the High Elves, now a prisoner in tattered clothes as she looked up at Tyrion. Her previous lover, the man she had shared her bed and heart with.

Before her betrayal.

"Alarielle." Tyrion's voice was harsh.

"Tyrion, I am so truly, so deeply..."

"Silence! You will only speak when asked." He declared, loud and clear. "You were the queen of Ulthuan, the one supposed to lead us to safety, to lead us with justice and wisdom against the enemies of the Asurs. Against the tyranny of the Witch-King! And you betrayed us all to marry him!"

His tone has risen more and more with each word, anger palpable, and as he finished his sentence, Alarielle shuddered in fear, genuinly fearing for her life, that he would grab the sword of khaine and behead her here and there. So bloodthirsty, so unlike the Tyrion she had previously known. And yet, he calmed down. Looking at her with cold, distant eyes, he stared at Alarielle as if she was a stranger as he finished.

"What do you have to say for your defense, traitor-queen?"

"I.." Alarielle began, her words caught in her throat when she saw Morathi, the hated hag sorceress, the mother of the hated Malekith. the schemer, underhanded, traitorous witch... who was stroking Tyrion's arm adoringly, with clear lust and love and worship in ehr eyes. Still, Alarielle took a deep breath and tried to steady her voice. "I.. I married him because i thought that the only way elvenkind could resist the final invasion of Chaos was by uniting under oen banner. It did not please me to do so, and i considered it a great sacrifice, but if malekith's talents as a general, warrior and warlock could be used to defend Ulthuan, I was ready to marry him to ensure his assisstance."

Tyrion's expression remained cold as he took in her words.

"So you married the man who fractured our people himself, who shattered our alliance with the Dwarfs, who killed countless Asurs in his mad bid for power., who.."

"I DID IT FOR ULTHUAN!" Alarielle screamed, feeling herself on the verge of tears. "I hated it, i wanted to vomit when i suggested the idea, but i was ready to do this for all of us." She gulped, her voice nearly breaking, tears swelling in her eyes. "You... you should understand, Tyrion. You accepted Morathi's help as well... please, I beg you."

Silence fell for the next moments, the court watching with rapt attention, as the fate of the former queen herself was decided. Would this be a symbol of healing, of reconcialitation? Or a clear message that all who had supported the tyrant Malekith would persih? Even as Morathi leaned in to say something in Tyrion's ear, no one could make out what she meant, her words carrying magic, obfuscating their meaning to all ears but the ones she wanted to hear it. Alarielle could only watch as her fate was decided in front of her, as Morathi lovingly stroked Tyrion's leg, pressed her chest against his own. Alarielle tried ot suppress the brief tinge of jealousy as the hag Sorceress was so intimate with her lover, and Tyrion finally rose to his feet again.

"That is decided! Alarielle will be spared, to show that we offer mercy to those who recognize the error of her ways and make a sincere effort in their repentance. That is also why, Morathi and i will take Alarielle as our personal prisoner, to ensure her words are genuine."

Hushed whispers of awe, of approval, of relief, coursed through the courts as the nobles the throne room. To see the Everqueen spared did inspire them, made everyone pleased with Tyrion's clemency. For all her recent faults, no one wanted to see Alarielle suffer more than was needed. The brief, immesurable joy and relief that Alarielle had felt at hearing she would eb spared were immediately replaced by dread. All knew of the Hag Queen's reputation, of what she did to her prisoners, of the torture mental and physical she put them through. Still, Alarielle clung to a shred of hope. Tyrion would be there. Maybe she could reason with him, maybe if there were only the three of them without all those nobles looking at them, she could sway Tyrion to her side. Maybe...

*rrriiiippp*

Alarielle stood mortified as her already damaged clothes were torn off her easily by Morathi, leaving only a few strands on her body.

"I can see why you were with her, my love." Morathi hummed as she took in Alarielle's naked body. "She is quite beautiful."

Her hands groped Alarielle's breasts, toying with them for a second, leavign the Everqueen to shudder and suppress a moan. Whether it was Morathi's beauty, some magic she used to make herself more arousing, or something else, her touch managed to make Alarielle shudder in pleasure despite the tense and humiliating situation. With a cruel smirk, Morathi's caresses on Alarielle's breasts turned into a sharp slap before Morathi turned to Tyrion.

"Let us show her the consequences of betraying you, my king."

"Tyrion, please..."

The chan that had kept her prisoner, that she had been dragged by, was now held by Tyrion. With a jolt of his arm, Alarielle was pulled by the neck, falling to her knees in front of him, forced to look at him from below. Inferior to him.

"Morathi, go grab some of your toys for her." Tyrion ordered. "And you, Alarielle, pull my pants down."

Trembling, alarielle reached out. They had done this before, plenty of times as well. But now, the way Tyrion looked at her, the leash around her neck, knowing that Morathi was near, all of it made Alarielle gulped and so so with shaky hands as she took the familiar hem of Tyrion's pants and pulled down. His cock flooped out, hard, bigger than she remembered it, looking meaner somehow.

"Prove that you are sincere, and service me like a whore."

Alarielle gulped, nodding as she slowly ran her fingers alongside Tyrion's shaft, the huge member pulsing beneath her, its warmth shocking her. It was so different, so captivating, that she found herself filled with continually-growing arousal. Her eyes fixated on Tyrion's cock, Alarielle only registered Morathi's return when she felt cold metal clamps on her nipples, soon followed by the pale sorceress's fingers tracing a symbol between her navel and her crotch. A womb tattoo. Alarielle felt magics seeping into her body from it, and instantly her entire body shook as the arousal she felt was doubled, tripled, or even more.

"There, my king. Now she can properly service you." Morathi's sensual voice was another shudder of pleasure through Alarielle, and a rush of wetness between her legs. "She will only know release when you or I allow it, and she will be even more eager for it, for you."

Alarielle would have cried out in protest, angrily demanded they stop, that she wanted to atone, not be a slave to Morathi, but another feather-light touch from her, the smell of Tyrion's cock, its warmth against her face, all combined made her buck in lust and a lewd moan leaving her lips as arousal dripped down her legs, cunt so soaked from it she started forming a puddle on the ground. With a desperation, a lust, a fear, she had never felt before, Alarielle stuck her tongue out, lovingly running it from the bottom of Tyrion's shaft all the way to the very tip of his cock, following the thick veins with absolute adoration. She had never felt hotter, never been hornier despite the situation. The tiny clamps on her nipples stung deliciously as small hearts apeared in her eyes.

"Please..."

She did not even know what she was really begging for. She wanted clemency, she wanted her dignity. she wanted to apologize, to make them know she regretted marrying Malekith. She wanted Morathi kicked out ofUlthuan, she wanted to be with Tyrion again...

She wanted to be fucked like, she wanted to be used, she wanted cock, she wanted pussy, she wanted...

Tyrion looked at her, his coldness tinged with a slight amusement, a dark smile.

"You put quite a powerful mark on her, Morathi."

"Only a little more powerful than usual." Morathi smiled, her tone sweet and laden with lust, with promises of desire. "Her own mind is doing the rest."

Worshipping Tyrion's cock, as that was what Alarielle was now doing, left her mind too preoccupied for more. she did register that the two rulers were speaking about her, and that she ought to pay attention, but licking and covering Tyrion's cock in her saliva distracted her from doing so.

Alarielle did not register that Morathi had moved behind her until she felt a sharp slap on her ass, just as she took tyrion's cock inside her mouth. She gasped around the large cockhead, a spittle of drool pouring down on it as the puddle between her legs grew. And then, another large thing pressed between her legs as her ass was raised high. And suddenly, as Tyrion and Morathi pushed together, Alarielle ceased to be carried by her legs. Spit-roasted by a huge dildo in her cunt and a bigger cock bulging her throat, she went cross-eyed, bucking her hips.

And, without much more words, the two lovers began fucking her. Her body rocking back and forth. Morathi's huge, smooth strap plunging her depths, shaping her hungry pussy, getting drenched in her love juices, while Tyrion's cock plugging her throat, made her gag, made her neck bulge and her eyes water. And they fucked her mercilessly. Tears flowing down her cheek in pain and even greater pelasure, Alarielle was just a toy for them, a tool for their pleasure, and she loved it. were it not for the mark on her womb, for the magic preventing her release, she'd had orgasmed a couple times already, and many more as she was fucked on both end by the two.

Alarielle's arms gripped Tyrion's waist, trying to take his cock to the base, even if she choked herself on it, even as breathing was becoming difficult, even when she felt herself gettign light-headed. Breathing did not matter. Her dignity, who she had been, didn't matter anymore. the only things that did were Tyrion and Morathi's own pleasures.

If they had their releases, if Alarielle was completely driven mad by her inability to cum, if she passed out from giving Tyrion a blowjob, so ti would be. She was their toy now, and she would serve them.