Erui Aduial

BY : K.Rayne
Category: +Third Age > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 2664
Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings nor do I make money from this story.

Erui Aduial



Rating: M (Strong sexual content.  It’s a little dark, just be prepared.  This may not be for everyone.)


Summary: Legolas had finally chosen a wife – an elleth of unmatched grace, impeccable character and fiery spirit.  It is on the occasion of their wedding that Thranduil decides to invoke the ancient law of Erui Aduial and claim the bride for his own. 


Pairing: Thranduil/OFC & Legolas


Notes/Warnings: This is so AU and Non-Canon it’s not even funny.  This is a crazy idea that popped into my head that I just had to write down.  Erui Aduial – is totally a made-up concept that I am sure would have Tolkien rolling over in his grave.  Literally translating to “first evening”.  But it is based on the medieval concept of Ius Primae Noctis (In Latin – right of first night) or Droit du seigneur (In French – Lord’s night).  All will be revealed in the story though.  Hope you enjoy the devious workings of my mind! Please review and let me know what you think!!   

The Elven King lunged back on his throne, a goblet of wine hanging from his fingers as he observed the celebration around him.  Even in these dark times, people needed a reason to celebrate, to feel like there was something worth living for.  And a wedding was just such an occasion. 


His cold blue eyes gazed down at the young couple dancing nearby.  Pride swelled in his heart for his only son and heir.  Legolas had grown into a fine elf, a mighty warrior with a keen mind and sharp wit.  Yes, Thranduil admitted to himself, he might have pressure his son into the match with the daughter of one of his most trusted advisors.  But Lady Alassë was everything Mirkwood needed in a Princess – loyal, strong, eloquent and beautiful. 


She and his son made a striking pair.  She would give him children, of this Thranduil had no doubt.  It helped eased his wary soul, knowing that if anything were to happen to him or if he were to sail that Legolas and Mirkwood would be in good hands. 


As if sensing the eyes upon him, Legolas turned to meet the gaze of his father.  Thranduil barely inclined his head, but Legolas received the message loud and clear.  He escorted his bride over to her father before excusing himself, kissing her softly on the cheek. 


Thranduil had descended from his throne by the time Legolas arrived.  He held his goblet up to be refilled, before turning to his son. 


“Walk with me.”  It was not a question. 


Legolas fell into step beside his father as they exited the grand hall.  Thranduil was silent as he led Legolas to a small private balcony not far from the royal wing.  He drank slowly from his glass and he regarded his son. 


Legolas stood tall and proud, the silver circlet upon his brow giving him a regal air.  The fine silver tunic stretched over his broad shoulders.  A fine elf and an even finer prince. 


“What would have you drag me away from my own wedding feast, Father?” Legolas finally asked when he realized that Thranduil was not going to speak first. 


“There is a matter of importance I wanted to discuss with you.” 


“Could it not wait until the morning?” 


Thranduil didn’t answer, but continued to peer at Legolas with those burning blue eyes.  Legolas was not one to shrink away from his father’s gaze, but there was something in his eyes that night that made Legolas worry. 


After what felt like forever, Thranduil finally spoke, “I intend to invoke my right to Erui Aduial.”


All the air left Legolas’ lungs in one long gasp.  He struggled to breath, his hand reaching out to grasp the nearby railing until his knuckled turned white.  His heart threatening to burst out of his chest and his ears burning.


Legolas would have been less surprised if Thranduil had struck him across the face. 


“You cannot be serious,” Legolas whispered. 


Thranduil gave his normally stoic son as moment to collect himself as he drank deeply of his wine.  “Quite.”


“Do you know what you ask of me?” 


“I do not ask, Legolas,” Thranduil’s voice was dark and even.    


“She is my wife!”  Legolas’ nostrils flared as he tried to keep his temper under control.


Thranduil was completely unfazed by Legolas’ rage, knowing the feeling all too well. 


“It is my right and I intend to take what is mine.”


“By taking my wife to your bed?  On our wedding night?”  Legolas was convinced he was going to be sick. 


“It is a tradition of which I intend to uphold.” 


Legolas’ grip on the railing tightened as if it was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his temper. 


“Are you telling me that…” he stopped, not even knowing if he could speak the words out loud. 


Thranduil knew the question without having to hear it.  He leaned in close to hiss into his son’s ear. 


“Yes, Legolas.  My father did the same to me.  I even had the courage to strike him for even suggesting such a thing.  I was punished for my outrage.  He forced me to watch as he…”


“Enough!” Legolas growled.  “You have made your point.  She was my mother and I choose not to imagine such a thing.” 


“Then I will give you the curtsey that was not show to me.”  Thranduil downed the rest of his wine before setting his cup aside.  “You will bring her to me in an hour.  If you fail me, you will lose your right to my good graces and be bound to endure it as I did.” 


“What am I supposed to tell her?” Legolas asked, defeat clear in his words. 


“She will already have been informed.”  Thranduil waved the comment off as he started down the hall towards his chambers. 


“How?” Legolas demanded to his father’s retreating back. 


Thranduil stopped but didn’t turn around.  “Lord Nendir inquired yestereve if it was my intent to follow through with the tradition.  When I informed him that it was, he made it clear he would talk to his wife who would speak to yours.” 


Thranduil left his stunned son standing in the hallway as he proceeded to his private chambers.  He entered the first chamber which served as his own private study and office.  He removed his crown of branches and leaves and set it down upon the side of his desk.  He shook out his waist length golden blonde hair as his fingers trailed over the wooden box that had been left for him.  Lifting the lid, he gazed down at the contents for a moment before shutting it again. 


Yes, he thought, she would enjoy this gift. 


Next, he retreated into his bedchamber where the curtains had already been drawn back and the blankets turned down.  A warm fire burned in the hearth.  On the chair beside the fire was his favorite robe of dark green velvet and on the table, a bottle of wine and two glasses.  He changed out of his formal finery and into his robe, already feeling a lot more comfortable.


Going back into his study, he found the book he had been in the process of reading and made himself comfortable behind his desk.  The book distracted him as he waited and he did not have to wait long. 


He could hear the voices outside his door before it was ever knocked on. 


“Stop worrying, my love,” the soft feminine voice reached his ears first. 


“But what if…”


“He is your father, Legolas, not some foul beast.  He will not harm me.” 


The tentative knock came before another word was spoken. 




Legolas guided Alassë into the room, his arm firmly around her waist.  Both of them still in their wedding attire. 


She should have been prepared, Thranduil mused darkly as his fingers drummed on the top of the desk.  But part of him was sure that if Legolas dallied any longer in bringing her here, he would not have done so at all. 


“Sire,” she greeted him softly, dropping into a light curtsey.   


But yet she was a sight to behind with her silver blonde hair and eyes as green as the forest around them. 


Thranduil pushed away from his desk to approach the young couple.  He took the hand that was offered to him and pressed a feather light kiss to the top of it. 


“You look radiant,” he said, keeping his voice low. 


“Thank you, sire.” 


“Come, I have a wedding gift for you.”


He led her over to his desk where he reached for the large box.  Legolas following closely behind, not wanting to be separated from her just yet. 


Thranduil held it for her as she opened the lid and gaped at the contents. 


“White gems of pure starlight.  A gift my father had made for my wife upon our wedding that she wore until the end of her days.  A war was fought over these jewels so I could reclaim what was mine.  Now, I gift them to you.  To wear with honor as the future queen of our realm.”


Alassë nodded dumbly as Thranduil took the necklace from the box and secure it around her neck.  She knew how much these jewels meant to him, Legolas had told her the story many times. 


“Thank you, my king, at this honor.  I will wear them with reverence.” 


He stepped away and watched the way the gems sparkled against her pale skin.  His heart still hurt at the loss of his wife and he hoped that Legolas never had to feel the same pain he had suffered. 


“Legolas, you may go.”  Again, it was an order from his king. 


“No,” he said as he took his wife’s hand, raising it to his own lips.  “I will remain out here.” 


“Do you think that wise, my son?” Thranduil asked, arching up a brow. 


“I cannot bring myself to bear witness, but I have to know that she will remain unharmed.” 


“So be it.” 


Legolas pulled her into his arms one last time, whispering words of love and admiration into her ear.  She reciprocated his words, the love for him glowing so brightly in her eyes. 


“This night should have been ours,” Legolas murmured as he kissed her lips. 


“I know, my love.  But it is only one night.  We will have the rest of eternity together.” 


“I wish I could be as calm as you are now.” 


Alassë smiled up at her husband.  “I had a whole day for prepare myself for this, while you had merely an hour.  It will be alright.  He might have my body but you have my heart.  Always.” 


“It is time.”  Thranduil held his hand towards her as she inched away from Legolas’ grasp. 


Thranduil led her back to his chamber and she caught one last glance at her husband as he sank dejectedly down into the desk chair. 


She took a deep breath to calm her raging nerves, reminding herself that this was Thranduil after all, and not some stranger. 


Ever since she was a child, she always admired the Elven King.  His grace, his sometimes-downright cold demeanor.  Behind the layer of ice, he kept so close to his heart, she knew there had been a loving husband and now a devoted father.  He made ruling the vast forests seem effortless even though she knew the years were beginning to take their toll. 


Now, she couldn’t even imagine this happening.  That this strong powerful king was going to become her lover.  Even if only for one night. 


She settled down on the very edge of the bed, her green eyes following Thranduil as he poured them each a glass of wine.  She took the glass from him graciously when it was offered, but only took a small sip.  She wasn’t going to allow the effects of the win to addle her brain too much. 


Her throat went dry as she regarded Thranduil, who stood beside the fire.  Alassë was sure he had never seen him without his crown until this moment or even so informally dressed.  The light from the fire illuminating the smooth planes of his chest that were exposed from behind the robe.  His golden hair seemed to glow in the light and normally cold blue eyes held a hint of warmth.


“Come here,” his voice was deep and smooth. 


Her eyes never left his face as she soon found herself standing before him.  He was taller than his son and broader, Alassë noticed with a shake of her head.  She tried to force Legolas from her mind, knowing how much this was hurting him as he sat on the other side of the door. 


She snapped out of her thoughts as Thranduil ran the back of his fingers over so lightly across her cheek.  A shiver running down her spine as his fingers brushed against the tips of her ears.  A gasp escaping her lips as he pressed his to the side of her neck, his nose nuzzling into her hair. 


He wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her close until their bodies where pressed tightly together.  His lips continuing to kiss up her neck until he reached her ear, flicking his tongue along the delicate point.  Her knees trembled and she was grateful for his tight grip. 


A wicked smile formed on Thranduil’s face as she moaned softly from his continued assault on her ear.  He tucked two fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to his.  She gazed up at him through her thick lashes, her full lips parted as she fought to breath. 


His hand curved around to cradle her head, before he sealed their lips together.  His kiss was soft and warm, not at all how she expected him to be.  She expected him to take what he wanted, as he always did, but instead his lips teased hers.  His tongue peeking out to run over her lower lip, licking and biting gently. 


Her hands gripped the front of his robe as his hands roamed over her hands, finding the laces to her dress. 


“Do you yield?” he asked against her mouth as he started untying her dress. 


“Yes.” The word passed over her lips like a light sigh. 


Thranduil growled in satisfaction.  Yes, he thought, he was going to enjoy every minute of this. 


As soon as he got her dress open, he peeled it off her until it laid in a puddle of fabric at her feet.  She stood before him, completely bare, her silver hair streaming down her back and her lips already swollen from his kisses. 


She shivered under the scrutiny of his eye shivering under his hungry gaze.  A small squeak escaped her lips and he swept her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing at all.  He crossed the distance to his massive bed in a few short strides and laid her down in the middle. 


In an instant he was on top of her, one of his hands holding her wrists above her head, his hips grinding into hers.  The evidence of his arousal pressed firmly against her hip.  She tried to pull her arms free, but his grip was unrelenting. 


He clicked his tongue with a shake of his head as he leaned down to her ear.  He licked the delicate point again as his free hand trailed down her body, grasping one plump breast.  Rolling her nipple with his thumb until it was hard and straining. 


Thranduil gazed down at her face, twisted with pleasure as she squeezed her eyes shut and bit on her lower lip. 


“None of that,” he whispered as his hand released her breast long enough to turn her face towards his.  “I want to see your pretty eyes.” 


She shook her head fiercely from side to side, his fingers now pinching and twisting her nipple. 


“I want to hear you.”  He continued taunting her even as he kissed her chest.  His teeth lightly scraping over her other breast.  “I will have you begging me to take you, to make you scream with pleasure.” 


He swirled his tongue over on taunt nipple before blowing on it making it harden further.  Alassë felt the sensation all the way in the pit of her stomach and she arched her back with a soft moan. 


“Good girl,” he praised before repeating the action to her other nipple. 


Alassë panted for air.  This shouldn’t be happening, she kept thinking to herself.  She should be with her husband. 


But anything thoughts of Legolas was quickly pushed from her mind.  Thranduil had slipped a hand between her thighs, messaging and squeezing the soft flesh.  He nudged her knees part, placing his firmly between hers.  She felt open and exposed.  But the fire that burned in his deep blue eyes made her shudder. 


He rubbed his hand against her before softly pressing one finger inside.  Her eyes shot open as she moaned, arching her back off the bed.  This time when she tried to pull her hands free, he released her.  She gripped his strong biceps, his finger moving in and out of her tight wet passage. 


“So, eager already,” he murmured, adding a second finger.


His robe had become untied, and she tried her best to shove it from his broad shoulders, racking her nails against his skin.  He removed his hand long enough to shrug out of the robe and toss it to the floor.  His long slender fingers immediately going back to her wet opening, thrusting them deeply inside her. 


Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his head down to kiss her again.  She bit his lower lip earning her a deep growl.


She touched his smooth sculpted chest, his stomach quivering as her hand drifted lower.  She gripped him firmly in her hand, giving him a light squeeze. 


He pulled his head back to gaze down into her eyes as her hand started to move, stroking his firm long length.


“Shall we see how much you can take?” he asked wickedly. 


Before she could even contemplate what, he meant, she felt herself stretching more.  She lifted her head to look down at his hand, where he now had three fingers buried in her core.  He twisted his wrist suddenly and curled his fingers inside her. 


She threw her head back against the pillow, a loud moan ripping from her throat. 


“Again,” he hissed, withdrawing his hand and then pushing back in. 


Alassë felt warm all over as she fought to breath, his fingers moving at a dizzying pace.  Her hands were everywhere, on his face, in his hair, gripping his shoulders for dear life. 


“What do you want?”  It wasn’t so much as question as a demand. 


Before she could stop herself, she whispered, “Take me.” 


He removed his hand and gripping her thighs spread them wider.  He rubbed his rock-hard erection against her soaking wet slit, making her moan louder


He hooked her knees over his elbows and leaned forward until his nose almost touched her.  Her legs spread wide and ready.


“Louder,” he demanded.  He pushed the head into her but remained still. 


“Please, my king.  Take me!”  She no longer cared, she needed him inside her. 


He thrust his hips forward, burying himself in one smooth stroke.  He set a steady rhythm, moving against her.  She wrapped her long lean legs around his narrow hips, her fingers once against in his hair. 


Leaning down, he kissed her again.  Soft, warm and slow.  Sucking her tongue into his mouth, swallowing her moans and cries of pleasure.  They were his and his alone.  He savored the feel of her soft skin as it slid against his.  Her breasts pressed firmly to his hard chest. 


The Elven King losing himself to the pleasure he found in her.  He buried his face into the crook of her neck, biting her shoulder, his hips beginning to move faster and faster.  He bit down on the supple flesh, not caring that he was going to leave a mark.  In this moment, she was his. 


He groaned loudly as her fingers traced the points of his ears, making his whole body shudder.  She kissed his cheek, the curve of his strong jaw. 


He felt her tightening around him and knew she was close.  Leaning up on his elbows, his shimmering hair fell like a curtain around them and she tucked the loose strands behind his ears.  His gaze flickered to the gems around her neck and then back to her bright green eyes, half closed in lust, her head tossing from side to side. 


She cried out in release, convulsing around him, her body growing limp as her arms feel away from his shoulders. 


He thrust into her hard, riding out the wave of her orgasm before following behind her.  Pulling himself from her and releasing onto her stomach.  He had no desire to father his own grandchildren.     


He laid down beside her, pulling her into his arms as they fought for breath, their chests heaving and their bodies tingling. 


She buried her face into his hair as his hands lightly trailed up and down her back. 


“Thank you.”  His whispered words almost not reaching her ears as he placed a soft kiss to the top of her head. 


She lifted her eyes to his. 


“For what, sire?” 


“For trusting me.” 


“You are my king.”


“Yes,” he paused, licking his lower lip.  “We should get you cleaned up and dressed.” 


All she could do was nod.  A cold fear sank into her heart as she thought about what waited for her on the other side of his door. 


Thranduil helped her from the bed, catching her as her knees trembled.  Both from the experience and her sudden dread.  Once he made sure she was steady, he fetched a damp cloth from his bath chamber and wiped his scent from her skin.  He helped her back into her dress and did up the lacings in the back. 


Alassë picked up his robe and handed to him, which he quickly slipped on and tied the knot around his hips. 


“What do I say?” she asked stupidly, as Thranduil urged her to sit on the edge of the bed as he braided back her long hair. 


“Nothing.  Legolas will understand in time.” 


“Do you honestly think he can forgive me?”  Her question barely a whisper. 


Securing her braid at the bottom, Thranduil turned her around to face him again.


“You were being an obedient servant to the crown.  If he is to blame anyone for this, it will be me.  I hated my father for what he did to my wife.”


“Then, why do it?” 


“Part of it was pure selfishness on my account for Legolas has laid claim to the most beautiful elleth in the kingdom,” he started, running his fingers over her flushed cheeks.  “But to teach him what I had learned.” 


“What can there to learn from this?” 


“He will protect you with every fiber of his being, because his very life will depend on it.  Because next time someone was to try and lay claim to you, it maybe not be someone such as I, but an enemy who would do you harm.  The pain he no doubt feels in this moment, will be nothing compared to losing you.  To see you taken right before his eyes and feeling the pure hopelessness of not being able to do anything about it.”


The sadness and coldness that crept into his eyes in those moments, shook her to her core.  He had known loss, he had felt it as purely as anyone possibly could. 


She reached up and touched the necklace at her throat. 


“So, he will never have to suffer as you have.” 


Thranduil nodded.  “Losing her was the hardest thing I have ever had to endure.  But living for him.  For my son.  It’s what kept me from giving into my despair.  Love him, Alassë.  Love him as only you can.” 


She embraced him suddenly, wrapping her arms around him one last time.  Not as a lover but as a friend. 


“I promise, my king.  He will only know love.” 


“Good.  Now to go him, before he breaks down my door.” 


Alassë couldn’t help the chuckled that bubbled up inside her.  She raced to the door and threw it open. 


Legolas still sat in his father’s desk chair, hunched over and his face buried in his hands.  She raced to his side, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.  He trembled as he collapsed into her embrace. 


“Forgive me, please forgive me,” he murmured as he peppered her face in kisses. 


“I am unharmed.”  Her words acting as like a balm on his soul as she tenderly wiped the tracks of tears from his face.


All he could do was nod as she helped him to his feet.  His posture went stone stiff as he caught a glance of his father leaning against the doorframe to his room. 


Thranduil watched his son, seeing the anger that bubbled beneath the surface.  Legolas kissed his wife on the forehead before stepping away from her and towards his father. 


The two stared at each other for a long hard moment, before Legolas punched him hard, Thranduil’s head snapping to one side. 


A very rare smirk crossed his face as his tongue peeked out to touch the blood on his lip, but he said nothing.  This only seemed to enrage Legolas further, whose hands were balled up into tight fists at his sides.  But even Legolas knew better than to provoke his father further. 


He spun on his heel and marched back to Alassë’s side.  Wrapping an arm around her waist, he guided her from the room.  He paused by the door for a moment, not bothering to turn around. 


“We leave for Imladris in two days to answer Lord Elrond’s summons to the council.  You will not deter me.”  His voice calm and even. 


Thranduil didn’t answer, but simply watched his son leave with his wife. 


He stayed leaning against the door for several long moments.  Thranduil always got what he wanted and tonight was no exception.  His son had learned the most valuable lesson he could have taught.  Something he himself had also learned in the hardest way possible.  Besides, he should have seen the blow from Legolas coming.  Thranduil did have to give the boy credit for doing it after the fact, best way to avoid the punishment he did not want to endure.    


Thranduil chuckled despite himself and pulled out a clean piece of paper and began drafting a letter to Lord Elrond. 












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