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Fifteen Years	By : Ertia Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 14168 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: This is not my garden. I just play in it. All here, with the exception of my original characters, belongs to Tolkien and his estate. Even my original characters, as they are modeled after Tolkien Elves, I owe in some part to him. I earn nothing here except my own satisfaction.
Fifteen Years in Lothlorien

Part One: Curses and Questions
"Damn." Thranduil swore softly, glancing up at the lovely elleth who stood before his desk. "Why have we only three courtesans in Greenwood?"
The elleth cringed slightly, "Well, we were five. You allowed Mieriele her freedom last year after she saved your sons life during the spider attack. Ninsewel fell in love and got herself pregnant. Now we are three. Me, Ferdal, and Imliere."
"How did I end up with TWO female courtesans and only one male?" Thranduil groused, shaking the missive in his hand.
The elleth whispered softly. "Because you don't like to share Ferdal, which leaves Imleire and I and to manage the court for ourselves, My Lord King."
Thranduil sighed. "Well, I need one female and one male for the exchange! It's only two weeks away. I refuse to give up Ferdal!"
The elleth could only shrug. She knew as well as any that to be seperated from the King would possibly mean the death of Ferdal. He had never been exchanged in all of his two hundered years as a Greenwood Courtesan. "My Lord, even if we found someone willing, how am I to train them in only two weeks? It takes months to become a courtesan, and years to become an experienced courtesan!"
"Well, I will not send Ferdal!" Thranduil huffed. He pushed back in his chair and regarded Mirie as she stood properly before his desk, her hands behind her back, her ample breasts stretching the fabric of her thin gown tightly. Her hair was loose and anadorned, in the manner of a proper courtesan, and her lips pursed in a gentle pout as he regarded her.
With a smooth gesture he indicated for her to come around the desk and stand beside him. In front of him, he took a paper and headed it with bold strokes. 'Courtesan'. "Now, tell me, what makes a good courtesan?"
"Beauty." She replied, leaning close to peer over his shoulder as he wrote the word.
"What else?"
"I assume we're talking males here?" At his nod she continued. "Music. He must be able to sing, and play harp or lute, preferably both. Dance; he must be a skilled dancer. But he must also be apt with weapons, able to spar or play at archery or riding."
Thranduil nodded as he scribbled, "Music. Dance. Weapons."
"He must be intelligent, able to follow conversations of all sorts: war and weapons, art and history, fashion and style. The proper courtesan will be able to blend with every court, whether it be Greenwood, Imladris, or Lorien."
"Educated. Interesting. Blend in", Thranduil wrote. "What else, Mirie?"
She smiled slyly, her lips close to the kings ear. "He must be lusty. He must desire, and want to be desired. He must make men stand hard and women fall weak when he turns his mind to it."
Thranduil wrote "Lusty" and paused as Mirie's sweet breath brushed his cheek.
Her voice murmured low as her silver hair fell over his shoulder, it's sweet rose perfume draping him. "He must love to kiss, to be sensual, to feel the skin of another beneath his hands and his mouth. He must want to stroke, and please and caress, and want to be caressed, and stroked and pleased."
Thranduil didn't write anything, the quill hanging limply from his fingers as Mirie slid her tongue lightly over the point of his ear.
"He must have desire, and be free in his desires." She murmured, "He must not be afraid to have an ellon, or elleth, or three for that matter, writhing hot and naked beneath him, pleasured by his hands, his mouth, his heated cock. He must not be afraid to have his flesh suckled, stroked, even heated by lash or paddle until his desire is raw within him."
Thranduil dropped the quill on the desk, shoving his chair back and grasping Mirie by the waist. She wasted no time in closing her lips over his, meeting the demanding kiss he replied with, even as he pushed himself from the chair and set her on the desk. The kiss continued as he raised her skirts and settled between her spread legs.
She laughed softly as her fingers unhooked his trousers and lifted his tunic, finding his hard organ and teasing it's heat even as he tore open the bodice laces of her dress and latched his mouth to her nipple. She guided her beautiful king to her opening, wet and waiting for him.
He thrust deep and then held still, waiting for her signal. Mirie was a sensual elleth indeed, and he had learned her body's signals over the time she had been in Greenwood, learning how to give them both the most pleasure.
"Take me, My Lord King." She murmured in his ear, shifting her hips against him, feeling him deep and warm inside of her, "Take me. Burn me with your need."
He did. Long slow thrusts became hard and short as she leaned back on his desk and braced herself. Her trembling legs wrapped around him as she came once, and she gasped for air as he shifted his position slightly and renewed his assault. When she felt him begin to tremble, and he lowered his head to once again grasp a breast into his mouth, she cried out again, "Yes! Yes, My King!"
She tremored to a second rolling orgasm, meeting his tense groan of release as he came deep within her. Quickly raising herself, she embraced him gently, until he pushed himself upright. Taking her underskirt, she gently cleaned him, reaching her lips once more to his as she raised his trousers and fastened them with lithe fingers.
"And he must always know when his master is too tense for his own good." She murmured softly, kissing his ear once more before standing back and giving him a show of slowly fastening her bodice over her pinked nipples.
Thranduil chuckled as he sank back into his chair. "I don't suppose I can keep you another fifteen years?"
She laughed and shook her head. "That is your prerogitive, my lord. You are my king. But you did promise that I could see Imladris in fifteen years when I agreed to stay the last time."
He sighed, shaking his head. "You simply look forward to having the twins."
Mirie laughed, and feigned innocence. "The twins? Whatever could they hold for me, when my blond beautiful King is right before me?"
He shook his head again, and looked down at the paper on the desk. Chuckling, he pointed to it. "If you have another appointment this evening, I suggest you bathe, Mirie, dearest."
The ink was still wet, and had smeared across the paper. Gasping, Mirie turned and flipped up her skirts, showing her king her shapely bottom. "How bad?"
Thranduil took one look and laughed heartily. "I fear if you look at it in a mirror, you will see the word 'lusty' quite clearly."
They could not help themselves and collapsed into helpless mirth.
But even as he laughed, Thranduil eyed the list on the desk. With only two weeks until the exchange, where in all of his kingdom would he be able to find one who met all of the qualities on that list?
Hmm...I wonder. Who he could possibly find?

Stay tuned for more! :)
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Fifteen Years