To Wed an Elf | By : LorandTab Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 7110 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
The woman stood just beyond the Mirkwood forest deep in thought. The breeze lifted her midnight curls from her shoulders and displayed them like a shimmering banner. "Goddess, tell me what I am to do! Please!" She pleaded lifting her head to the darkening sky.
But when straining ears heard no reply her feet turned of her own will and took several steps away, retreating. "No! I shall not simply turn and run home because I fear this. I WILL not!" Forcing herself in the opposite direction, she was again headed towards Mirkwood. Headed into the unknown with her heart choking her every step of the way.
In the cool of the first signs of twilight, all was still and peaceful. Until, in the distance, a sound broke the tranquility. The tips of elongated earitchitched slightly as the elf stood, his fingers wrapping tightly around the bow he had just finished restringing. Turning his head to the left, the direction of the newfound chaos, long, silky locks of flaxen hair falling around his shoulders as he moved toward the sound. Taking an arrow from the quiver nearby, and making ready in case of danger, he stealthily stepped forward. Cool, azure eyes narrowed staring into the wooded area from whence the sound traveled to his ears. Friend or foe, for this was a time that afforded no leisure to mistake one for the other.
The woman, so unfamiliar to her surroundings, set first one foot and then another into the leaf-strewn forest floor. The last rays of the sun caressed her back with comforting warmth and she was almost sure it was trying to tell her all was well. Her mind simply couldn't grasp the idea that there was nothing to fear here. All her life she had been terrified, as her brothers had related every type of foul beast, every kind of monster, to be found amongst the bows of Mirkwood forest. Her mother, however, had spoken almost musically of her kin that dwelt her. All in all, Falawyn was confused and terrified, but determined to see this quest through.
Ears completely in tune with the sounds and silence of nature, soft leather boots eased carefully on the forest ground moving closer and closer to the sound. Breathing. He definitely heard the light sound of soft breathing as he lowered easily to a knee keeping his bow carefully trained on the being who would materialize any second. His own breathing stopped. Show yourself, he thought with a twinge of anxiety. Show yourself, now.
She felt the words rather than heard then and took a sudden step backwards. Terror throbbed hard through her tension filled body, as a root seemed to reach up and grab her foot pitching her to the ground.ilenilent scream hovered on her lips.
His body swung into the quick action as dictated by his lifetime of training. In what seemed like a blink of an eye he was above the being, his bow taut, the arrow aimed perfectly at the heart. And then he did blink … several times, as he found himself staring into the most enticing dark eyes. Shaking off the tingling sensation that ripped through his body, he forced the words from his lips. “Friend or foe. Speak it now.”
"Fri...Fri..." Her lips trembled as she fought to form the word he demanded of her. "Friend!" She finally spat out, her eyes roaming the almost translucent face poised above her. Poised above her with a very sharp arrow aimed at her heart. With widened eyes she began clawing her way along the ground away from the threat, trying to put distance between then and knowing that no distance would be great enough.
His eyes narrowed, his fair brows knitted closely together as he struggled with the feeling that was threatening to overtake him. Tightening his grip on the hardness of the bow, the fingers precariously holding back the arrow shook slightly with the effort to keep his composure. State your purpose here. They should have been the next words coming from him. But he could not find the power to speak them. Instead he found himself transfixed on the darkness of her eyes … the ebony silk of her disheveled tresses … the fear mixed with excitement etched on her face. Human? She looked human, yet …
nd wnd what happened next seemed more like a dream to him than reality. Throwins wes weapon harshly to the ground, he fell to his knees beside the vision and reached for her, pulling her distinctly feminine form firmly into his arms. Before she had a chance to protest, his mouth overtook her soft, full lips kissing her with the force of a man who had be reunited with a lifelong love after years of separation while his head swam with tamilamiliar, yet completely alien sensation.
How had fear been overcome so quickly? Banished so completely? Lips that had never been touched before opened and worked lightly against the male holding her. Feeling as if she had been pitched head first into the warm tranquil sea of some foreign land she embraced the sensations bombarding her. Lifting her arms she wrapped them around strong firm shoulders while weaving her fingers through the long flaxen hair that flowed down hisk.
k.
A flood of warmth traveled through his entire being as the annoying shades of reality floated over him like a looming storm cloud. Against his will his consciousness fought to detach itself from the splendor of this moment to claw its way back to what it deemed normalcy. The instant his lips left hers he felt the sinking distraught of regret. His hand lingered on her cheek moving slowly along her jaw line before he fell firmly into a sitting position beside her, his body wanting nothing more than to explore contact with this woman as intimately as possible between elf and human. His eyes bored into hers wondering in vain if she was feeling the intensity of the aura they created.
"Friend?" The word was the only thing that her mind found purchase upon. She was wholly confused and the fear returned with the abandonment of his lips.
What seemed like an eternity passed before his head nodded his belief. He felt her terr her her tension. She feared him as much as his suddenly alive body screamed for her. “What do you seek here,” he asked, his usually soft voice taking on a slightly husky sound. “What service can I be to you?”
"I seek..." She drew in a deep and calming breath, trying to regain a measure of her usual self-confidence. "I seek Thranduil, King of...." She squared her shoulders as her mother's soft voice whispered into her ear, whispers from a time before illness ravished her and stole the melody from her lips. "King of the elves of Mirkwood. I have a message for him." With that she withdrew a folded parchment from her cloak to prove her words true.
A look of skepticism overtook the usually calm demeanor of the elf as his hand slowly reached out to take what she offered, his cerulean eyes never once leaving her dark orbs until finally they broke to read the words. “And what business have you with my father,” he asked as he folded the document carefully, with great respect. His manor was now composed manor greatly at odds with the tumultuous emotions wreaking havoc inside him.
Who was this elven male? Who was he to question her? She huffed and righted herself, pushing backside from the hard ground. With and indignant huff she met his eyes directly. "That I'm afraid is between me and the King. If you know of him than I shall have you take me to him straight away."
A thread of amusement wound itself around his heart as the elf looked squarely into her eyes, his own lighting with unreleased laughter. Did she not realize the elf she spoke of was his father? Standing to his full height, he motioned toward the east with a flourish. “Straight away, milady. I am at your service.”
"Unlikely but I would be in your debt," she replied, stumbling fully to her feet as she pushed her dark locks over her ear. Feeling the small peak there she became acutely aware of the reason she was in the Mirkwood forest and the reason she was seeking out the elven king who reined here.
“Debt,” he said softly. “I think not. We elves know little about debt and much about kindness and compassion.” He moved to walk in front of her as he swept his hand downward and retrieved his bow. Powerful strides caulittlittle to no sound on the forest floor as he made his way easily through its brushes and trees. Confusion filled him again. How could there be so much passion in one at a particular moment and so much disdain instantly the next? He remembered the hungry kiss they shared and resigned himself to be grateful to have experienced it once. Now he was only interested in finding what she needed with his father.
"Kindness and compassion? Might I assume not a small bit of forwardness as wellf?lf?" She smirked to herself, thinking sas aas awfully clever in putting the male in his place.
He was unruffled as the long, blond locks sashayed across his back from the movement of his gait. “Forwardness is to some what elves consider simply seizing the momentiviniving for life.” He turned, his gaze on her from over his shoulder. “Nothing should be regretted.” His eyes twinkled brightly before he returned to his original stance.
"Well, upon that we agree. I regret nothing." She lifted her chin a wee bit higher feeling as if she were the one quickly set in her place. And her place here was a stranger, an interloper. "You name elven sir. May I have it?"
“Legolas,” he said softly but with a great deal of pride and respect. The amusement raced through him again as he thought of the surprise she would know when he stood beside his father, the king, and rested on the throne to the left of his majesty on the dais. “I am called Legolas.” He peered over his shoulder again. “And yours, milady?”
"Falawyn," she responded as she carefully stored his name in the halls of her mind. The coolness she had adopted towards him was anything but the truth of her feelings, she stilled burned with the remembered feel of his lips. Without a second thought she knew she would willingly taste them again, but she couldn't allow herself to be distracted. "Is there anything you can tell me of any import regarding this king, Legolas?" The name felt completely heavenly on her tongue, and she wished to feel it there over and over.
His eyes closed of their own will as if a warm spring breeze caressed his being. His name sounded musical and a bit mesmerizing as it floated from her mouth to his ears. “He is fair and just,” he began, his grip returning to his bow for comfort. “His people adore him, which, in itself, tells you what sort of being he is.” He sighed gently. “He is what all elves wish to be
She couldn't help herself, not with the relaxed cast of his features teasing her. "He is what you wish to be?"
He stopped and turned, his elegant form moving to face her. “Am I not elf?” he questioned lightly? “He is my king. As such, he is that which I strive to emulate.” A soft, barely perceptible smile touched his lips.
She mirrored the same smile, her cool aloofness melting away. "Quite so. Forgive me for asking such an idiotic question."
His smile became genuine as he turned to continue their journey. “Idiotic? I think not. You simply are not closely acquainted with our ways.” He stopped then, knowing the next step would take them from the solace of the forest and into the clearing, which housed the magnificence of his home. His back straight, he waited for her to move to his side.
"Yes. That is true." She sighed almost mournfully. "An awful shame." The words were spoken so low that they where fairly inaudible. Moving to his side, her eyes took in the break in foliage.
Gazing slightly downward to view the expression in her lovely face, Legolas’s hand moved gently with a feather light touch to rest on her shoulder momentarily. “Behold the Palace of Thranduil, King of the elves of Mirkwood.” His eyes slid slowly back to the awe-inspiring vision before them. “You have reached the end of your journey, Falaw Mo Moving his hand to the small of her back, he tenderly urged her forward.
"I'm afraid not," she spoke over her shoulder, eyes never leaving the woodland splendor around her. "It’s just begun."
Continuing his pace, the elf walked with masculine grace giving his companion plenty of time to peruse the lushness of the surrounding forest, he led her to the large steps of the sturdy, yet wondrously lovely edifice before them. Moving in silence to the guards before the opening, Legolas spoke softly but with ability and confidence. “She is Falawyn. She has business with King Thranduil.” He gave the guard a knowing look, urging him silently to play along.” “May we pass?”
The guard nodded solemnly his eyes twinkling with mirth at the situation.
Falawyn proceeded into the hall eager to seize her destiny now that it was so fully before her. "Will you stay as I talk with the king, Legolas?"
Looking every bit of surprised he smiled inside. Brave, she was. For it was true courage that knew fear, yet refused to be dictated by it. Covering his hand with his heart, he nodded with a flourish. “If you wish it, milady.” Moving a hand, he motioned the way to the receiving chamber where he knew his father to be.
"I do, sir," she responded as she watched an elegant male elf enter the chamber, appearing not much older than Legolas.
With a low, graceful bow, her newfound companion spoke eloquently with tones of respect. “My lord and king, if it be your pleasure, may I present to you Falawyn.” He raised his head slightly giving his father an amused smile. “She says she has business with you, sir.”
The elven king lowered himself into his simple wooden throne and motioned to the woman. "What business is this you speak of?"
With hesitant steps she moved to the king’s feet. "My mother bid me to seek you, mrd. rd. She said I was to give you....." She reached into her cloak but suddenly remembered Legolas still held the parchment. She glanced questioningly over her shoulder at him.
At that moment, the younger elf moves nimbly to the throne with a familiar nod toward the king and produced the said document. “She had with her this.” He then moved and casually leaned an elbow comfortably on the corner of the unpretentious, yet unmistakably regal throne, reading over the king’s shoulder studiously. “I ieweiewed the parchment, but I fear I couldn’t understand it’s meaning.”
"Your are Farawyn's child?" Asked the tranquil king.
"Yes," replied Falawyn.
"Tis good that you have come to me now."
Cobalt eyes narrowed slightly as Legolas saw the elder elf’s brow furrow. “You know this name, sir?”
"Aye. And it's long past time you should know it too." The king drew in ap brp breath and released it in a soft sigh. "This is your mate."
The narrowed eyes now widened. “Mate? I have no mate.” The fair head shook slightly. “Respectfully speaking, you’re talking nonsense, father!” His eyes then turned to the vision before him and he swallowed forcefully as he remembered the intimacy of their kiss, so unplanned and spontaneous, earlier.
"Father? Father?" She gasped out, surprise etching her delicate features. "You mean to tell me you are the king's son and you spoke not of it?"
"It is so. The bond forged between our lines long ago." With those words the king stood and removed himself from the room. Thinking it better to let the soon to be lover, mates, resolve the issues of joining between them.
Gathering all his composuregolagolas turned a regal look her way. “It was my duty to protect my father, the king.” A golden eyebrow arched slightly. “You asked to speak to the king, not the crown prince.” He stepped from the dais and moved toward her, his head still a good deal higher than hers. “What is this forge he speaks of? Speak. Tell me, now.” He stood fast and strong, yet in truth, his legs felt as weak as a newborn lamb’s.
"I...I don't know...." Her voice sounded low and strangled to her, fighting its way from her throat. All the while her nerves were being peeled raw by his nearness, his total maleness. "I assume he means a marriage contract was forged between our two families. My mother has ever told me that I was meant for a king but I never believed in her words."
He took a step nearer, his head and shoulders lowering slightly to set his face nearer to hers. “Had I been betrothed as a babe, I would have been advised be now now. My peopled have urged me for many seasons to take a mate.” Again, the sensual narrowing of his eyes appeared. “Would this they do had I a legal mate already?” And then he spoke lower, as if asking himself alone to make sense of this. “Would my father have encouraged my finding an intended had he known?”
"I have no answers to what motivates your people, Legolas. I was simply following my mother's last wish. That I come here and deliver the parchment tor far father.” She met his eyes imploringly, met his eyes with the confusion she could so easily see in his eyes.
Being so near her caused a myriad of confusion inside him as well as set his blood to boiling at an accelerated rate. Again the memory of the kiss infiltrated his mind and his hand moved toward her cheek to caress the soft, satiny skin in a comforting touch. Why in the name of all that was sacred did he feel as if he would do anything to take away the bewilderment he beheld in her gaze? “All will be well. Trust me, I will see this righted.”
"How will you see it righted, Legolas? Will you marry as your father expects? Consent to a loveless union?" She shook her head as she took an uncertain step back. The warmth of him caressed her back as she presented it to him, fearing to see the rejection she would surely see there. This journey, this promised destiny, was all she had left. There was no family now, no suitors seeking her hand. She was utterly alone and more than any other time she felt it acutely now.
A feeling of emptiness overtook his being as the female turned her back on him. Rare was it when any being knew of his royal heritage and still turned away from him and for some bizarre reason, this time hurt rather than offended. Steeling himself to his feelings he stepped around her to lift her chin with his fingers and look at her with quiet determination. “You mock me? You doubt my ability to set things aright as well as my allegiance to my father and king?” Many females would swoon for the right to be in her position, and this woman was distressed? Of course … she was not elvish. The discrimination she apparently harbored began to raise his ire. “I am a crowned prince. I would do what is expected of me.”
"I do not doubt you for a moment. I simply wish to know if there is any consideration for my feelings or me in your setting this to right." She slowly pulled her chin from his grasp setting it high with determination. Confusion and fear stilled ruled her but she could not and would not let him see her weak and deem her fragile.
He silently ground his teeth as this beauty imperiously jerked from his grasp as though he were not only common but extremely distasteful as well. How could there have been even a second of sensual intimacy between them. He pulled himself to his full height and spoke softly, slowly and succinctly. “And pray tell me, milady. What are your feelings regarding this new development?”
There! A small battle won! But the war still loomed ahead and undoubtedly it would be a war of wills as well as hearts. "I think...." She began and then corrected herself quite swiftly. "I feel that the situation is not totally impossible. I find you have a....." A deep crease formed between her brows as she studied his face. "A certain beauty to you that is not totally unappealing. I think I could come to enjoy it quite nicely. If that is what I must do." All the while her body was telling her she would do more than enjoy this man.
A slow simmer began inside him, his eyes darkening to a stormy blue. She was as arrogant as she was beautiful … as maddening as she was intoxicating. “Everything about my home and my people is aesthetically pleasing. That is common knowledge and legendary among the beings of Middle Earth.” His eyes narrowed again, his brow knitting as he moved his head closer inward forcing hers backward. “Which is fortuitous for you considering the importance you seem to place on beauty when claiming your mate!” Turning on his soft, leather heels he moved toward the dais, hitched his foot on the top step and took the parchment from the seat of the throne, where his father left it, and began to reread the decree.
"Beauty is all that I can ask, all I can expect. After all, it would be foolish to expect love." With that she turned her feet towards the entrance to the hall and began her retreat. She knew without a doubt she could quickly feel more than simmering passion for the elven prince.
“Hold,” he said with a quiet, yet commanding air of authority. How dare this female show him such disdain as to leave the room without so much as a by your leave? Sitting smoothly on the slightly smaller throne to the left of the king’s, he assumed his royal countenance. A hand on each arm of the smooth, wooden seat, he looked regally in her direction. “Approach the throne."
She stopped in her tracks but remained with her back to him, refusing to turn and give him more power over her. "Not yet bound by elf or man and already giving me orders? By what right do you demand I obey you? You are not my king, nor prince, not even husband.”
Without missing a beat, his words gave voice to her disrespect. “By the right of my position as prince and future king. Would you show such blatant disregard for a culture in the very midst of that culture’s high order? Is that how you show respect for what you feel is your destiny?” He let out a soft elvish curse. “Is that what my people are to expect from future queen?” At that moment he realized, no matter how his body became enflamed when near her, a union between them would never work … could never exist. Not when she showed so little deference for elf kind and their sovereigns.
A battle lost. A defeated sigh escaped her thi lip lips as her shoulders drooped. Turning, she shook her head in denial of his words. "I am sorry. To disrespect your culture and your position was not my intention at all. I simply do not wish to be ordered about as if my life is no longer my own." Without realizing it she had taken a step and then another until she was at the very base of the throne. An inward groan cursed her for a fool, her body was betraying her in more than desire.
His stormy eyes turned a clear blue now, their effect on races other than elf kind usually hypnotic. A small smile touched his face as he nodded slightly. “Apology accepted. However, this is the place where orders are given and taken. If we are to honor this …” he sighed as he sought the words. “This contract, then it would behoove you to accept that, as there will come a time when orders will be mandated by you yourself.” His magical eyes now traveled her body surreptitiously. “Tell me honestly and without reservation. Is it your wish that this contract be honored? That we actually wed … mate?”
Insufferable! Arrogant elf! Had she had less control of herself she knew she would have used her rounded crescent nails to scratch out his eyes. But suddenly a bargain occurred to her that quickly doused her anger and outrage. "So I am to understand that you will give me orders here, make demands, and that I am to follow without question?"
His eyes rolled slightly in a form of frustration as he realized the sensual effect washing over him at her nearness was not reciprocated. He could not help but be confused as his body began to tighten and harden of its own volition. Sexual tension was something he never succumbed to, his mind and duty always taking precedence over his physical need. To keep his control, he remembered his position. “You are to understand that when I take a wife, the most important thing I desire from her is her is an ability to talk, discuss and help me rule.” The golden eyebrow shot up again. “And, if I am to remember correctly, I asked a question … not mandated an order.” A low, almost cleansing sigh escaped him. “Or should I take your hesitation to answer as your response?” Surly his father could not blame him if it were Falawyn who refused to honor the long ago negotiated contract and not Leg, hi, himself.
"Take if for what you wish, my beautiful prince." In the blink of an eye she had deemed it appropriate to change tactics. Leaning in, she braced her hands near his on the throne, her face pushed close to his, breathing heavily with the effort to control her own rampant need … a need that she didn't understand clearly, nor had ever experienced before meeting the elf. "But my answer is this. Yes. I want you as husband and I will gladly become your wife. You rule here and I rule in our bed." It was daring and completely contrary to herself but she told herself that she would have it that way or no way at all. She told herself that she would have some power and she chose to claim it in the most intimate of ways.
A nerved twitched in his left eye as he stared into hers considering seriously her proposal in regard to their marriage. His father wished this union, of that there was no doubt. It was blessed by the powers that be, of that there was little doubt, although it was odd that a future king of elf kind would be destined to mate with a female of another race. He had only to decide if he could give up power in any form to his intended … and then the realization came to him. She wanted to be granted this power … this power in their bedchambers, for the sole purpose of denying her body to him. He suddenly realized the gain in such an agreement. If she desired not his body then surly she would keep her distance from him thus relieving him of this building pressure in his most intimate regions when privy to her nearness. Without changing facial expressions in the slightest, he nodded his fair head. “Agreed,” he breathed, his agreement sealing both their fates.
She
She knew her smile should be more demure, less seductive but she couldn't seem to make them bend to her will. "Then shall we seal our bargain?" She asked a heartbeat before her trembling lips touched him.
If this in the forest had surprised Legolas, her mouth on his now was quite nearly his undoing. Without thought, his hands moved slowly along her back as his mouth opened to hers in a devouring answer to her unspoken invitation. With the minutest amount of force, he pulled her onto the dais and eased her onto his lap, their kiss as their bodies sat together on his royal prince’s throne an unseen representation of what the gods intended.
The kiss was far more than she expected and quite a bit less than she wanted. With his lips opened to her and his tongue seeking out hers she moaned into his mouth, she turned in his lap so that her swelling breasts rubbed against his thin linen clad chest with every little movement.
The friction of the stiff peaks on his muscular torso caused his body to harden even more dramatically as his mouth fought for control of hers. Through the sensual fog he sensed that she played with him, creating a lust inside him only to show control by withdrawing at a most inopportune time, yet his hands trailed her body as he deepened the kiss demanding even more from her.
So hard! So big! She grappled with those thoughts dogging her mind as she sat there upon him, his shaft nudging at her rounded bottom. The sensation was quickly leading to a maddening frustration and she whimpered into him mouth as she restlessly moved against him.
It had been years since he had lost his innocence, yet even after that first time he had always been able to contain composure … keep his desire in check. Why, then, did he, now wello hio his adulthood, find it impossible to keep rein on his ionsions with this female? She wasn’t even elven, by the gods! And then her hand softly moved to caress his right ear. The moment her fingers absently fondled the pointed peak, his mind was not his own. His hardness expanded even more, aching and throbbing with such force that he was certain she must be able to feel the pulsing on her firm flesh that rested upon it. Forcing her back to arch in his arms, his mouth traveled lower, his lips moving across the pliant, yet firm cleavage that spilled over the neckline of her decidedly feminine traveling tunic. His tongue darted out sporadically to taste the flesh before him.
"Legolas...." She gasped hoarsely, her body obeying his direction precisely. "We can not....Not here...We will be seen."
At those words, he froze. It was as he expected. His body, stiff and aching with lust, was now to be denied. Slowly he moved his eyes to hers and locked for what seemed an nitynity before nodding. “Quite right,” he said softly, his blood on fire and surging through every part of his being.
It was all she could manage not to sob at the loss of his touch. She wanted it now more than she would have ever believed possible. "How long shall we have to wait before we are joined? Is there a long wait or will it be quickly." Her only salvation, she knew now, was a swift joining ceremony.
He worked hard to control his breathing as he saw how anxious she wasbecobecome princess. His ear still itched as it remembered her touch, the erogenous area tender and alive to all erotic sensations and he fought to keep his head about him. With all he had inside he gathered the strength to gently move her to a standing position, raising to stand beside her. Stepping down from the platform, he ran a finger across the peak of his ear to attempt to still the pulsing there. “The time and pomp of the ceremony will be dictated by my father. He is the one who is aware of this negotiation.” He turned to her, knowing her mind in regard her rule in the bedroom. She meant to deny him. Of this he had little doubt. But on one thing they must be clear. “My father … my people … will expect and heir. This you must know.”
"Full well,” she replied instantly and without hesitation. Indeed she welcomed the attempts at planting a child in her womb but she would not speak aloud of that just yet with her intended.
With only a hint of skepticism on his handsome face, he nodded. He inwardly groaned at the thought of never knowing when she would deem the time worthy of attempting conception of an heir. He sighed and spoke with softly sensual tones. “Very well. Then shall I tell my father we are agreed?”
"Quite so," came her throaty reply, her eyes trying to pull more from him but failing. "I would very much like to attend with you. I would like to speak to him of my mother and her life here."
His eyes remained fixed, the blue becoming lighter … almost translucent. “Would you not prefer to rest? It’s been a long journey for you. You must be tired.” Surely she would welcome the chance to be out of his presence.
She would hold to their bargain and spoke accordingly. "If that is what you think is best, Legolas. But I am quite hardy and have great stamina for a female." Unbeknownst to him, her last words carried a double meaning, a promise of long nights to come.
“I shall see you comfortably to a bedchamber.” He extended his hand for her to take before moving toward the door. “I will then see my father, tell him of our agreement, and arrange a private dining for the three of us this eve.” He smiled as they entered the long corridor. ‘Then you will be at leisure to ask all the questions you desire.” He looked down at her as they approached modest, yet sturdy staircase. “Does that satisfy your desire?”
She dared to tease him, to use her words to force a reaction from him. "Not my half, my prince, but it shall have to do for now."
The tips of his ears matched the throb in his groin as he let his mind trickle over her words. Again, his free hand rubbed the sensation from the flesh of his ear as he thanked the powers that be that she was not an elf and did not know the cause of the itch. “Your curiosity will have to be saved for a more convenient time, future princess,” he said softly, knowing how anxious she was to interrogate his father. And he knew, if anyone had the answers to her questions, it would be his lord and liege. “But your patience will be well rewarded.” He opened a door escorting her into the most lovely of bedchambers. “I promise you.”
"Tell me of this promise? How you plan to honor it?" Her voice was nothing more than a whisper now but she knew he heard her as perfectly as is she was shouting.
His body screamed for this stranger that he had known but a few hours, but he sensed her teasing and attempted a matching smile of his own, his fingers moving to caress her cheek under the guise of brushing a lock of ebony silk from her skin. It was then that his fingers tenderly slid through the dark, satiny tresses so different from the fair-haired females he was usually privy to. There had been few exceptions … few elven females with the lovely darkness to their hair. She had been one … Aregorn’s love. And yet even she had not had the hold on Legolas that this bewitching female had. “I plan to honor it, by giving you what you need … what you desire.” His fingers continued to fondle the soft locks even as he remembered that she wanted to speak to his father. He smiled softly and stepped back looking around the room. “Do you find it satisfactory?”
Hot and cold could run no more opposite than her intended, she decided then. "More than satisfactory. It is quite lovely," she replied glancing around the room. But ultimately her eyes came back to rest on him.
“It is reserved for our most hod ofd of guests,” he said simply, his eyes darkening to a cerulean color. He moved to the bed and took a small, light afghan from the foot of it, the soft, shimming golden hue of the material practically twinkling as he brought it nearer. “Have you heard of elven silk, milady?”
"I have." Her response was wistful as her fingers reached to caress the fibers. "My mother had such. It resembled this quite a lot. It was sent with her at her death."
His eyes shone brightly. “The elves created it for two specific reasons.” He tenderly stroked the material along with her. “This particular silk, as well, I’m certain, as the kind your mother owned, was woven with mystic powers to create a feeling of comfort and relaxation.” He touched the cloth to her cheek. “Do you feel such?”
"I feel many things at this moment, Legolas, but I do also feel a bit more relaxed," she managed with drowsy eyes that slipped slowly closed. Pulling her lower lips between her small white teeth she concentrated on the feel of his fingers beyond the strands of silk.
He leaned to whisper into her ear in seeming conspiracy. “There is also another technique used for weaving the silk. It creates an entirely different material with entirely different mystical powers.” His cheek card thd the softness of her sable mane as he inconspicuously inhaled the very scent of her. Why, in the name of the gods, was he about to tell her of one of the most revered secrets known to elf kind?
Her entire body was hummed with the feel of him against her, her body so alive with the wanting of him. Tilting her head just so, she applied warm wet lips to his jaw, whispering against his pale skin. "Tell me."
A shiver ran through him that he curbed with great effort. A muscle twitched in his jaw that he was certain she felt as his mouth turned up in an elegant smile. “It is a wondrous material.” He tapped the corner of the present silk on tip of her sweetly upturned noseI haI have the mystic silk, as we call it, adorning my bed.” He was determined to keep the secret for now, no matter how much he desired to unfold it now, in her presence. As he stepped away from her to return the golden material to its position on the foot of her bed, he had no conception of how tantalizing his words seemed, nor how graceful his body moved.
She did in fact feel the jump below her lips and a smile formed in response. Perhaps there was no love in this match but there would be passion aplenty, passion to see them through their nights as well as their days. "Soon to be adorning our bed." She couldn't help pointing out that they would soon be wound together under the magical silk of which he spoke.
He turned back to face her, his arms neatly folded across his chest as his foot rested on the step that stood near the overly high mattress. “The silk was presented to me as a gift in celebration of my eighteenth year. It’s a traditional bedcovering for a wedding night. It’s when the secret of the material is manifested.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he thought. “Of course that’s between elves.” And she was not. Did that mean that the tradition would be void? A shrug graced his shoulders. “We shall see, shall we not?” He smiled again. “And then all will be revealed, no?” If not before then … if he could keep the traditional secret.
It struck her then like a tree branch in the head, he did not know that she was half elven. That her mother was elven and had sent her there to bound the high houses of Mirkwood. She was the last of her line and it was just as important for her to bare a child as it was for Legolas to have an heir. "Oh yes, my sweet prince, we shall certainly see." There was a secretive smile that played about her lips, telling that she knew more than she was saying.
A look of slight confusion painted his eyes as he pushed forward, walking toward the door. Stopping beside her, he gently took her hand kissing the bsoftsoftly, with lingering pressure. “Enjoy your chambers, milady.” He smiled almost sweetly. “I will come for you when you are rested.”
"Don't leave me long, Legolas. It does not suit me to be alone in a strange room. I would much rather you entertain me." Turned she eased slowly onto the bed and reclined, her eyes never wavering from him.
His eyes took in her sensual pose and thought of how wondrous it would be to have a female think him as overwhelmingly enticing as he thought her at this moment in time. How wonderful it would feel to have someone desire him based on his own self rather than the reign he would someday inherit. He was no stranger to sexual play, however he knew that the females sought not him, but the title of queen that he could eventually give to them. “I shall return soon prepared to present into my father’s presence for discussion. If you want for anything before then, you have only to ask.”
Her eyes slammed shut and she feel back fully onto the bed as he left her, left her there to think of nothing but him. She knew then that there would be no rest for her. "Legolas, with all my heart I swear that if we are made to wait over long for our joking that I will go mad." She spoke to the walls around her, spoke to the high ceiling, but not to the elf that could ease the ache inside her.
TBC
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