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~ Thranduil POV ~

As I had feared, the fleeing group of Orcs was catching up with what appeared to be several humans who had left Dale. Some dozens of them were hurrying along the shadowy road, men, women and children. I urged on my Elk which now seemed to fly. But I would not reach them in time. And the Orcs, true to their abominable Orc-nature, were swinging their clubs and chains to massacre all the figures they would pass while still running from our Elven swords.

I growled. What stupidity made these humans leave Dale so late, too late? They would pay with their lives for their carelessness.

Suddenly a figure in the human treck turned around. Confronted with the vile pack of beasts sprinting towards them she was snapping back to hurl a command at the group in front which was now finally realizing the danger descending upon them. The humans veered off course and streamed into the woods to the right of the road where they were somewhat protected by the plethora of thick ancient poplars.

A family was at the rear of the group, with a little girl now being carried by her mother, her husband urging her from the pebbled path. The first ugly monster swung its club high into the air, directing a gleeful grin at the stumbling mother shielding her daughter. The woman leader seemed to have detected the move this moment also. Running a horse length before them, she abruptly turned with a vicious cry and darted towards the attacker, eyes flashing and dark with anger.

“No-ho!!!” she shouted, unsheathing a long glinting dagger and lunging herself towards the Orc with a speed, viciousness and brutality I had rarely seen in even the best of elven fighters.
Surprised, the hideous ogre could not stop his own forward momentum, and she collided into him, burying her dagger to the hilt in his left eye. The beast roared and writhed with the searing pain, and half-blind dug his claws deep into the side of the mortal who had hurt him thus, flinging her savagely to the right, sending her flying for several yard until she crashed into a tree, collapsing in an unmoving heap.

My sword now found the first Orc necks. Falling to my front and sides the foul creatures did not escape the singing elven swords, as my warriors slashed down at them with unfailing precision.

Ignoring the growing pile of debris, I guided my Elk off the shaded path and into the lush green moss which had formed among the high trees. With a last glance down the road I dismounted and approached the slender figure which lay on the ground, unmoving, but faintly breathing. A waterfall of thick dark hair fell over her shoulders as if she were sleeping, but when I carefully turned her, my hand came away coated in warm blood. Her doublet was ripped, three deep claw marks bled profusely and dark blood flowed from her right side. Several ribs seemed to be broken as well, and I ghosted my fingertips over her body to make sure that they were not piercing her lungs before I gathered the small human in my arms and mounted my elk.

This one would live, I decided, if only for the vicious attack she had subjected the Orc-filth to. My healers would make sure she lived.
Following my order in Sindarin, one of my guards moved to pull her dagger out of the now severed stinking head. The weapon would return to its owner in time.

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“My lord” The healer curtsied when I entered the tent.

“How is she doing?” I eyed the brittle human frame beneath the sheets, her pale face and blueish lips in stark contrast to the dark mass of hair which framed her face and disappeared behind her back, creating a blue-black aureole around her head.

“She has lost a lot of blood but is now stable. Apart from the tear wound and the broken ribs the fall has also re-opened a badly healed stab wound. She must have been weakened in the first place. It will take her longer than usual to heal completely and she must absolutely refrain from moving about too soon.”

I nodded. The Valar only knew where her companions had fled to by now. “We will take her back to give her time to heal. Prepare everything accordingly.”

Ignoring her curtesy, I stepped out of the tent.

~ Reader POV ~

Surprisingly, I was not hurting that much when I came to – but my mind was feeling sluggish and my body was disconcertingly stiff. Finding myself in a beautiful small room made me momentarily question my sanity. But on my left side I detected familiar green clothes on a stool, with my dagger lying on top, so it seemed my being, well, wherever I was had been a deliberate action, but not one aimed at rendering me defenseless.

My eyes went wide with surprise when an –- Elf -- entered the room. Sensing my very evident uneasiness, the elleth smiled and motioned me to lie back down, as I had subconsciously shied away from the youthful beauty which had suddenly stepped into my slowly adapting view.

“Welcome back to earth”, she smirked at my incredulity. “Our soldiers took you to our healing tents after the battle of Dale. I treated your wounds and you will stay here until you are fully recovered.”
She made to turn, but realized I stared at her, still as a statue, evidently waiting for her to continue. Turning fully back to me, she shot me a questioning look, then nodded to herself, comprehension flooding her features.

“You are free to go where you wish after you are fully healed”, she assured me.

With a sigh, I sank back into my pillow.

After checking my wounds and replacing the bandage, the healer handed me an alluringly scented tea and supported my back while patiently waiting for me to finish the flowery-bitter brew which I could take only in small sips. My body wailed at me for assuming even a slightly elevated angle and I was exhausted and shivering when lowered down. I immediately fell into a deep, black slumber which rendered my whole frame calm and heavy.

But this was not how I would continue after waking up.

Again I found myself alone, quietly enjoying the golden sunlight which filtered through the blinds of a marvelously crafted window to my right. I smelled fresh grass and the air seemed imbued with the warmth of the morning sun. My mind was floating in no particular direction when I picked up a barely detectable swishing sound creeping ever nearer the door of my chamber.

The voice of my healer was now nearing also, in a faint whisper informing someone that the Orc-inflicted wound was unexpectedly slow to close and would need a lot further care, while the stab wound and the broken ribs had started to heal. Announcing to the unknown interlocutor that I should now have woken from the tea-induced slumber, her voice had reached the door. The next moment, the healer elleth entered, with a graceful smile on her lips, immediately followed by a second, much larger and broad-chested figure. The Elf was imposing and commanded the seemingly shrunken room, his regal figure magnified by a gleaming silver-flowing gown and unbraided golden hair.

~ Thranduil POV ~

When I entered the nursing room, the human was awake and her remarkable eyes which had the deep blue-green color of a mountain lake had seemingly anticipated that someone would enter the chamber, which was odd, given the fact that elves tread soundlessly. Her perceptive gaze shifted from my healer to me when I took my station next to the door.

Taking me in, the little figure flinched violently, her eyes wide in shock. Her whole frame involuntarily shrunk from me, while her lips pronounced an unspoken word. Her expression changed to outright horror and she writhed as if in pain, her right hand flying up in a defensive gesture.

Next, she threw herself to her left with the force of the desperate, grasping her dagger and twisting to confront me, half entangled in the bed sheet she had lain under only a second before. Backing into the stool which stood behind her, she faced me, heavily breathing and precariously bent over due to the side wound which had not yet begun to heal.

Humans will never cease to amaze me I thought involuntarily as I took in the sorry form which barely held itself upright - and which gripped a svelte dagger of unmistakenly Lothlórien origin. How do these things always end up in the most unlikely places? I wondered, before turning back to the task at hand: calming down the frantic thing before she collapsed right next to her bed. Which would be quite ironic indeed.

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~ Thranduil POV ~

Careful not to provoke her into any action, I merely held up a calming hand, while signaling to my healer to stand still as she wanted to reach for her agitated charge.

“You are not well enough to be out of bed yet” I told the mortal, keeping my voice down and careful to stand motionless.

She did not react, which was not surprising. For whatever reason she suddenly saw herself confronted with two potential attackers, but it was equally a given that she had no viable options for defense whatsoever, with her lack of strength and room for manoeuvre. She would realize her situation after the first shock had worn off. I waited.

Her breathing was strained and her legs slightly shaking. I frowned when a red stain crept through her thin shift and bloomed below the hand which was gripping the dagger.

“Where are my people?” was her somewhat unexpected question. “What have you done to them?”

I raised a warning eyebrow at the insinuation in her question.

“Should you refer to your ill-advised human travel companions, I do not know about their whereabouts. They seemed to flee in the direction of Laketown after the attack. I cannot give you specifics as the travel route of a sorry band of disorderly mortals is none of my concern.”

Her nonexistent reaction made it clear that she did not put the least faith in what I had told her. The red stain steadily wormed its way towards her right hip and she still eyed me full of distrust. My patience was wearing thin. I settled on another approach.

Straightening to full height, I now glowered at her, ostensibly folding my arms in front of my chest. Disdain radiated from me in small, rippling waves.

“Your questions imply that you are in a position of whatever authority towards these humans”, I levelled at her, slightly lifting my chin. “As such you might first want to consider that the responsible conduct, your responsible conduct, would have been to lead them out of Dale much earlier before you turn to insult those who are organized and can defend themselves, as you very well see. Had you left a day earlier your precious mortals would have encountered neither Orcs nor Elves on their way. It was common knowledge that my army was nearing Dale in pursuit of the last scattered remnants of Orcs after we had won the battle of Erebor.”

Slightly inclining my head, I was now sneering at her. This time my viciousness had pierced her defense. Her face showed a mixture of shock and relief, with a good measure of incredulity thrown into the mix.

“You are accusing me of not leaving Dale early enough???” she breathed.

Strangely enough, this realization seemed to completely defuse her worries. Her shoulders loosened and she half choked on a quiet laugh directed at her bare feet. My words seemed to almost amuse the skittish thing. Her body relaxed, the dagger moved down.

“Thank the Valar!” she exhaled, and in sync with the escaping tension she soundlessly sank to the ground. My healer darted forward to catch her upper arms and check her fall. I turned. Well, that was just fabulous.

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~ Reader POV ~

When I awoke in the comfortable bed for the second time, I slowly realized two things: my side was aching like Udûn and I had behaved most discourteously towards the mighty Thranduil Oropherion, and both things were solely my fault. Deeply embarrassed, I closed my eyes and sank back into my pillow. No escaping it now – you mess things up, you go and apologize! I opened my eyes again when I heard the door opening. The healer had come back to join me. I was turning to her.

“Please,” I asked, “my people are really not here?”

She earnestly shook her head.

“No, you are alone,” she assured me, understanding from my former outburst that this was important to me. “You can believe me, for I would know, as I first treated you in Dale with the other injured soldiers. You were the only human in our camp. I do not know where your people went, but as I said before: when you have fully healed, you are free to go and join them if you know where to find them.”

I smiled at her.

“Thank you, this means so much to me.”

Before continuing, I averted my eyes which followed a ray of light on the whitewashed wall.

“I know that I have greatly offended King Thranduil, which is all the more mortifying as he took me in and made you tend to my wounds. I treated him shamefully.” I sighed, wishing I could undo my previous action. “Can you guide me and tell me what I should do to try and apologize to him? I do not even know if it is proper for me to ask this or if I should just remove myself from--” I glanced around – “Eryn Lasgalen?” – “because he does not wish to lay eyes on me ever again, for which I could not fault him after my tantrum.”

Looking aghast at my proposition, which would mean almost certain death on some wayside, she insistently shook her head.

“You have to stay here and heal. This is the first thing to do to honor the King. It would not do to die now after he took you into his care, would it?” she smiled. “I will help you apologize, do not worry. But now, will you first tell me your name?”

Watching her friendly, forthright manner, I took a breath and nodded.

“My name is Elaine, it is a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for treating my wounds,” I continued, subconsciously moving my right hand to tap over my heart. “What is your name?”
“I am Nerewyn. Nice to meet you too. You should rest now, your body is still fighting the darkness of the Orc wound, the infection will unfortunately continue for some time. Try to sleep some more.”

Taking me in again, she discerned my new worry.

“I will think of a suitable way for you to apologize until you wake up again,” she soothed me.

Pure exhaustion washed over me and dragged me once more into deep sleep.

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~ Reader POV ~

A nervous twitch snaked through my body when I suddenly realized that a certain faint swishing sound was nearing the room again, and I decided that I was not yet ready for the person who caused it. Not in the least.

Nerewyn had told me a week ago that she had reported my wish to apologize to King Thranduil, but he had merely replied through her that I should rest and he would see me at an unspecified time in the future. Unannounced, he had obviously chosen to move together with the spreading shadows of twilight which prevailed within the four walls of the nursing chamber.

Suddenly he stood next to the door, once more dwarfing the room which seemed to crouch before his presence. I was still in the process of moving and shoving my body to a sitting position in order to show that I would at least make what effort I could. It was a feeble endeavour; my side wound was still raw. A deep curtesy was just beyond my reach right now.

“My lord”.

Bowing my head, I addressed the tall elf who had apparently come from a late council, wearing his spiked hawthorn summer crown and a midnight black robe with a crimson gown. Fighting my nerves down, I came straight to the point.

“I beg your forgiveness for my insulting behavior when I first met you. I was mistaken in my judgement and wish to apologize to you, my lord. You did neither let me perish nor left my wounds untreated and I acted most shamefully in return. If there is any task I might perform to repay your great kindness, I will be most happy to undertake it.”

He considered me for several moments, unmoving like a bloody shadow.

“How did you recognize me? For you immediately knew who stood in front of you.”

I froze. Of course he had noticed. How to explain to him that a half-dead human who had never set foot in Eryn Lasgalen was able to recognize the Elven King of the Woodland Realm minus crown in the blink of an eye before completely losing it? Meeting his gaze, I decided to tell him as big a part of the truth as I dared and leave the rest to fate.

“My mother owned a beautiful book with wonderful illuminations of all the elven realms, my lord. I have seen your likeness for as long as I can remember, for it was a favourite of mine and my mother used to tell me stories about you, and about Lord Elrond and the Lady Galadriel.”

He was observant and listening intently, but his face remained unreadable. A moment later he continued,

“Why did you think it would be my intent to harm your people?”

I shifted nervously. Again I decided to give him as big a share of the truth as I could.

“I was afraid of you because I know of your alliance with the Lords Tiarna and Laerd. When they had conquered Dale and defeated us while you still fought the dwarfs and Orcs in Erebor, I was anxious for my people because Lord Laerd has been holding a deep grudge against my family and mine. I did not feel safe for them to remain in Dale and asked Lord Tiarna to grant me a hearing in one of his audiences. He listened to me and understood my wish to leave. You see, my people, we are neither many nor powerful and of little strategic value, so he accepted to grant us safe conduct to Laketown in exchange for what I could pay him, which was my family inheritance.”

Breathing became harder as I battled to resume my story. I stared at my knees as if the sight of the bed sheet could lend me strength.

“I had not realized that close friends of Lord Laerd which shared his grudge against me were present during the audience. They were indignant that Lord Tiarna had grant my request and –” I fought the ugly pain down which was rearing its head in my chest

“—and attacked me on my way home. The stab wound in my chest which Nerewyn treated was – was their way of making their discontentment known. The wound was the reason why I could not arrange for us to leave Dale earlier in safety, as you had suggested.”

I breathed a shuddering breath and came to the point.

“It was irrational, but when I saw you, I was fearing that you would also want to punish us for fleeing Dale after the city was taken over by your coalition forces.”

“I beg your pardon, my lord.”

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~ Thranduil POV~

The slight body in front of me had curled in on itself as her explanations advanced, and when she had finished it was evident that she struggled not to fall apart in front of the elven king. Her fight for composure gave me ample time to consider her narrative.

Her statement made sense and although I did not believe her to have shared the whole truth, she had so far not been lying. Whatever corners she had chipped away or suppressed would reveal themselves with time. I was satisfied with the basics.

For the details, I could wait.

Her account of Laerd and his ilk irked me greatly, however. That man was nothing but vile and I decided to do as I did and not pay mindless human struggles any more heed than I could help. Finding myself allied to such mortal scum was a downside which I had only reluctantly accepted as part of my alliance with King Erathorn and his coalition of minor Lords – which was crucial to defeat Thror, that crooked, dishonest King under the Mountain--

Pulling myself away from that dark line of thought, I watched the woman again. She had visibly calmed down, which was no minor feat. Her desire to make amends would be useful to divert her from recent events and make her stay useful, I decided. Sensing an active spirit, I was sure that she would heal best if given a task to fulfill instead of being bound to a bed while suffering through slow healing and dark memories.

“You asked for my pardon,” I began, which made her deep blue-green eyes search for mine.

“I cannot yet settle on a task which could erase such discourtesy toward a king, but I will inform you of it when I have decided. In the mean time you will make a conscious effort to combat the lingering darkness in your wound, so that your side can start to heal. Be informed that you stay at my court for at least four months, so when you are able to walk you are required to assist with the supervision of the royal household. I understand that you command only a few people, but that knowledge will help you with controlling and cataloguing next year’s supply of food and medical herbs as well as the wine delivery which will arrive next month. You submit your reports and suggestions in writing to me – and you will refer to Elas, the royal chamberlain, for help with the preparation of the realm’s Moonlake Festival in three months’ time.”
Smiling at me, the petite human nodded. The prospect of being occupied seemed to please her.

“I will gladly try my hand at every task you mentioned, to the best of my abilities, my lord”.

My eyebrows went up.

“As you will stay at my court for some time and work as part of my household, you will refer to me as ‘my king’”, I remonstrated with her.

Without batting an eyelash, she directly amended:

“Yes, my king. It will be my pleasure to carry out any work assigned, your majesty,” she confirmed, inclining her head.

Good. No one would manage to intimidate or cheat that one now she was given her task.

With that, I left.

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~ Thranduil POV ~

I admitted it only reluctantly, but that woman amazed me, I mused when I lowered her latest report and got up to pace the throne room, disturbing the warm rays of the slowly setting evening sun.

Only this morning had I mechanically referred Elas to “Miss Elaine” when he had one of his infrequent fits of wordiness as he got carried away by the equally intimidating festival preparation and splendor. No way to deny it, within two months she had become my eyes and ears in so many matters of the household which required attention to detail that the delegation of tasks to her had become second nature. Her assistance had freed me from the need to attend to routine work so that I could finally reorganize the arms and armour procurement. Which was a headache, as there were simply not enough skilled blacksmiths who could forge first-rate swords and armour around Eryn Lasgalen, as had become painfully clear before the battle of Erebor. And Lothlôrien was too far away to obtain them from there without fail.

I now rely on her, I realized. It had happened gradually. I was amused when Nerewyn had told me that merely two hours after I had left, Miss Elaine had requested to be taught how Elves meditate to help her wound drive out the darkness. When she could not yet walk, she had begged and enlisted a chambermaid to bring her a book which catalogued and described all the elven clothes, emblems, badges and insignia so that she would in due course be able to identify what rank or position any person standing before her held. That seemed enough to occupy her, although I had denied her access to the household’s past statements of account. The thought was clever, but I would trust no one but Elas himself with that intimate knowledge of the state of affairs of the realm.

Then she started to walk.

Too early, of course, as Nerewyn had amply complained. But I did not think it necessary to forbid her. I merely “accidentally” happened upon her when she was straying some steps beyond the healing chamber. On shaky legs which threatened to give in any moment and heavily leaning on the corridor wall for support, she nevertheless seemed fine. No help or obstruction was needed.

Some time after, when I went to give orders to the new royal weaver, I observed her slim silhouette in the shadow of an archway a level below mine. The blue-robed figure moved excruciatingly slow and she still supported herself at every step on the wall. When she reached the crossroad, she halted, amazed, taking in the winding, free-floating ridgeways of the underground palace which formed a welcome natural limit to her present excursion. Unsupported, she could not yet take more than a handful of steps, which was not nearly enough to reach the kitchen, the direction she was obviously headed. But this realization did not seem to discourage her in the least. She merely stepped back to be once more enveloped by the darkness of the arch and observed, completely fading into the shadow, unseen by anyone. Council members passed her, the changing guards and several hurrying servants. She reemerged only when a smiling, leisurely sauntering chambermaid came her way.

I frowned. I did not like her stratagem - she would overexert herself with the too long walk back and forth. But propped up by the young chatty elf, the exasperating human now slowly wound her way along the meandering walkway. I turned to send Haldir to the kitchen, so that he could “by coincidence” meet her there and carry the little tripper safely back to bed.

Since that time, while glimpsing her regularly on my many ways to audiences, meetings and negotiations, her invisible presence had started to surround me. It seemed that she truly had the gift of engaging people, for I never heard the least negative remark. She was genuinely interested in her tasks and talked to everyone involved, asking a lot of questions, while carefully listening. Nothing escaped her while no one saw her as prying. Nerewyn had painted me the scene when she had met her in the medical storehouse just as she was graciously taking her leave of the usually disgruntled store keeper she had mysteriously enchanted. He would not deny her polite request to allow her to sit down and rest for a moment, and had bustled away – while “by chance” after five minutes of resting she had the opportunity to question one of the human suppliers who handed in his monthly supply of dried whitewater leaves in person.

And now her last report – again clear and concise - an outline of the perennial problem of dealing with highly perishable medical herbs while ensuring constant availability, especially emergency availability, at all times. She had suggested to gradually increase the amount of herbs with a longer shelf life and always use that part of the stock which had been stored the longest to avoid any waste as a means to build up an internal rotating stock. For the highly perishable leaves she suggested to check whether it would be possible to pay those suppliers a slightly increased price in exchange for their written commitment to provide additional emergency stocks at short notice as per their indicated capability, and to exclusively deliver their goods to Eryn Lasgalen in case of a general increase in demand connected with an impending war. Her plan was faultless and would make us partly self-sufficient and virtually eliminate market fluctuation at times when demand was peaking, namely before any war when all the realms would try to stock up.

I stopped in front of the table and gazed at the paper, utterly dissatisfied with the situation. I will not see her vanish to Laketown in two months’ time I decided, setting my teeth.

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~ Reader POV ~

When I arrived at the throne room, I was not too late. The king was still in a lengthy debriefing with the lately arrived head of the frontier guards, who had been travelling extensively over the last few weeks, as the guard on duty at the portal told me. He was in the mood for a chat and told me in strict confidentiality that the elf in audience was most highly regarded - he seemed to revere him himself - and that the frontier guards were considered Eryn Lasgalen elite, the fiercest and best trained of all the elven guards of the realm. Their leader was tasked with monitoring the wider area beyond the Greenwood and it was said about him that he knew every stone, tree and house within a days’ ride from the Forest by first and middle name.

Just when I wanted to ask the young elf whether he was aspiring to a position as frontier guard himself, the huge door of the throne room opened and a middle-aged elf emerged, with jet-black hair, neatly and carefully dressed in a fresh green tunic. His first glance fell on me and his head shot up, evidently in great surprise. He stopped dead in his tracks under the lofty doorframe and then proceeded to bow deeply.

“Princess Elaine”, he greeted, his voice carrying both pleasant surprise and a hint of sadness.

“I am very much pleased to see you here in Eryn Lasgalen, my lady, and that you are safe and sound. Please accept my feelings of deepest sympathy on the recent passing of your parents. A horrible event. I knew your father, Lord Theoca, and was fortunate enough to consider the High Lady Aléonor a friend. It was always a great privilege to speak to her which I would never miss when in Dale. I have often seen you in the Keep when you were still a young halfling and training with Líthorin. Your mother was very proud of you.”

He sighed.

“No war is ever kind, but this one has taken the flower of the fighters. The Lady Galadriel must equally be devastated to hear that her most trusted royal advisor and confidante is no more. I was worried when I rode into the Keep and saw no trace of you or your people, only Tiarna’s men. It is a great relief to see you alive and well in Eryn Lasgalen, my lady.”

He looked genuinely pleased.

“Thank you, my lord, for your great kindness,” I replied, my voice not quite steady, inclining my head after having recovered enough after the initial shock of his words.

“It is a privilege for my family and myself to count such honorable men as yourself among our friends. I thank you for your gracious concern.”

Glancing back to the throne room, he continued: “I will of course not keep you any longer, my lady, but I would feel privileged if I could meet you at a later time to hear more of you and yours. Please count me as your most devoted friend, your highness.”

I smiled a small smile and curtsied to the amiable guard. “It will be my pleasure, my lord.”

He bowed deeply once more and then proceeded down the darkening corridor.

Frozen. I stood frozen, in complete silence and stared at the open door several footsteps away. Bright sunlight was falling through the frame, painting a glowing and shifting pattern on the wall to my left. I could not make my feet move forward. For a moment, the urge to turn and run down the corridor was overwhelming, but still my feet remained glued to the ground, as I was watching the steady sunshine filtering through the open portal as an entranced rabbit under the spell of a snake.

Still I did not move and still there was no sound. Nothing. The young guard had obviously seemed it prudent to assume the appearance of a stone pillar after involuntarily listening in to our conversation. There was no sound from inside. No feet moved, no gown trailed along the wooden floor, no paper was lifted or put down. Nothing. Deadly silence reigned, uninterrupted by the afternoon light which beckoned me forward.
I made for the inside only because of a deep sense of inevitability, not cognizant of my wooden movements or remembering my report, the purpose which had originally brought me here on the king’s orders.

The portal closed behind me, with a sound unnaturally loud.

I slowly advanced in the broad direction of the long council table, eyes carefully fixed on the floor. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the throne on the farther end of the hall unoccupied, a silver-orange gown hanging loosely over its side. The unmoving figure I was dreading was – a quick stolen glance told me – lounging at the far end of the oaken table, reclined deep into his sumptuous armchair, his long shapely legs lazily crossed, his fingertips meeting in front of his broad chest. Sun-caressed golden hair was flowing in rich straight cascades down his shoulders, partly covering an emerald green robe, amplifying the ethereal beauty which was his siren song. I failed to suppress a shiver and the hair on my neck stood up. How many people had been taken in by his breathtaking appearance, only to find themselves unprepared at the receiving end of the deathly glare of ice-cold cerulean eyes and a temper which was burning and crushing everything standing in its way?

I made sure to stop at a safe distance from the table, lifting my eyes only so far to take in several piles of parchments and scrolls and carefully avoiding to shift my look any further towards the only other person present in the room.

I dipped into a long, deep, graceful curtesy.

“My king”.

After betraying my unsteady voice I bit my lip and kept my eyes steady in front of me, studying the texture of the dark wooden floor.

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~ Thranduil POV ~

I could not suppress an inner chuckle when deep silence and stillness was sinking down all over the hall and corridor after Béarn had left.

It gave me ample time to search my memory for the details of a certain human-elven marriage and their respective lineages I had long forgotten.

Finally the air outside shifted, and she moved. It was her luck that it was in the right direction. Sure of my prey, I settled lazily back into my chair.

Seconds later the emerging half-elf arrested my sight. She looked blooming. Her cheeks carried a faint hint of red which bore testimony to her great embarrassment. It harmonized pleasantly with her robe of lush sapphire green. Her deep curtesy was the most graceful I had seen for millennia and it tore at my heart that she was stubbornly refusing me the look of her otherworldly blue-green eyes. A familiarizing peek across the hall was all she dared undertake after the preceding revelation. But I would not let her off so easily and reveal this as the only source of my present annoyance.

Straightening slowly up, the slender figure had resumed her prudent stillness, not wanting to attract the hunter to her presence, obviously. That endeavor came too late. Much too late.

“How is it that you told me your people were of little strategic value?” I asked suddenly.

Her head shot up with the unexpected question, and there they were, her bottomless eyes, finally locking with mine. She looked taken aback not knowing where this was going.

“While the Arrân are indeed neither many nor powerful,” I continued, “the same cannot be said of your people’s overall strategic value. Lord Theoca had close relations with the workshops under the Mountain before his marriage and the High Lady Aléonor was friends with the best blacksmiths in Lothlórien and privy to their most guarded secrets. Not surprising, as the former personal guard and close friend of the Lady of the Light. The swords forged by the Arrân are indistinguishable from even the best elven blades. You must surely have heard of the Lady Aléonor’s most famous sword Líthorin, princess.” I drawled, while piercing her eyes and menacing her to contradict me.

Her eyes fluttered at what she perceived as my accusation. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

“My king, I beg your pardon. I did not mean to deceive you. In our first meeting I was merely unsure of your motives and chose to tell you only partial truths because of my lingering suspicion. That was cowardly and undeserving of the great kindness you have shown me. Since then I wanted to tell you of my station, but I never seemed to find the right time and place for such a disclosure and I must confess that I did not think it most pressing, as I would anyhow depart from Eryn Lasgalen in a short while.”

“I have acted disgraceful and I have insulted you. I understand that I have lost your confidence and must appear as anything but trustworthy. I beg you to accept my apologies, your majesty.”

She curtsied again, looking dejected.

“I will remove myself from your presence immediately, my king. I will leave the Green Forest within the hour and return to Laketown to join my people. I thank you again for saving me, although it must now be distasteful for you to hear it from one such as myself. I will leave at once, your highness.”

When she finished, I darted from my place, utterly furious. She had not now expected my attack and jumped back when I descended upon her like a mountain lion, eyes flashing and my hair nearly brushing her face when I towered over her.

“You will not speak to me of leaving!” I snarled, dangerously bending over the shrinking half-elf in front of me.

“You will not leave! ” I snapped at her again, louder, to get my message across.

She was standing motionless, having abandoned her previous attempt at turning her back on me. This calmed me somewhat. I took to pacing in front of her, not letting her out of my sight for a second.

“Lady Elaine”, I started over, “I intimated to you once that I would inform you when I had found a task which you could perform to gain my forgiveness for your startling demeanor when we first met.”

Darkly glancing at her, it was perfectly clear that this reminder added to her growing pile of remorse.

“I have now found said task and I expect you to perform it exactly to my bidding.”

I had her full attention now.

“As princess of the Arrân, you will swear unconditional allegiance to me. Your people will settle down in Eryn Lasgalen and join my royal household. I expect them to provide us with the best weapons and armour they can forge and to act as knowledgeable intermediaries in my trade with the humans, especially the guilds of Dale and Laketown. You will be part of my Council and as their commander you will make sure that all the men who can bear arms will be seamlessly integrated into my troops. I will provide all of them with housing and food, while I require them to adapt to life in my court and respect the elven traditions in return. Every individual and family will contribute to the realm to the best of their abilities. I will pledge for their safety and security. Apart from that they will have the same rights and obligations as any of my elven subjects.”

I stopped in front of her, waiting.

She looked into my eyes, searchingly. After several moments she seemed to have found the answer to her silent question, for her whole body straightened - and for the second time that day the natural grace of her bow took my breath away.

“As you wish, my king. I will write to Laketown immediately.”

I inclined my head to denote that she was dismissed.

Next, I called back Béarn, for I was in need of many more details which he could provide.

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

After nearly a month of careful planning and new arrangements everything was ready for the arrival of the Arrân. When my scout informed me of their imminent arrival, I sent him on to the Lady Elaine as she had requested so that she could welcome her people to Eryn Lasgalen. I went and took up station on the open archway overlooking the main and second court from where I could see, but would not be seen. Soon after my arrival the vanguard of the Arrân entered the main court. At the same time Lady Elaine emerged from below my station, clad in an iridescent dark grey tunic which was complemented by a ruby-coloured doublet. Her determined stride was in complete harmony with her fluid and elegant moves, but spoke of an inner strength which was visible in her erect posture which never left her. She was utterly captivating and I followed her swift progress over the yard, a picture of elegance and strength.

She was striding with purpose toward the leader of the Arrân vanguard, a stern-looking fighter who radiated strength and vigor. He had a scar over his eye and on the back of his left hand, but was nevertheless handsome with chiseled features and deep, watchful eyes. When she approached him, he swiftly dismounted his horse and bent his knee in front of her. She gripped his right shoulder to make him stand up and after a short exchange stood on her toes and pulled him into a hearty embrace, smiling brightly.

My hand twitched and grabbed the railing in front of me.

I growled.

When she had disengaged from him after what seemed to be ages, she turned around and pointed to the accommodation in the second court which was prepared for its new inhabitants. She assigned parts of the incoming trail of wagons and carts to different human and elven soldiers, so that each guard could direct several families to the right shelter without further delay. When she was speaking to one of them, a shout of “Tîrana!” (Aunt!) from a youthful voice echoed through the court and seconds later a boy of probably 4 years of age had jumped down from a wagon and was racing in her direction. With the most glorious and cheerful smile she turned towards the small blur, bent down to pick him up while he was still running in full speed and then turned on her axis with him held high above her head, to the boy’s great cheering delight. “Haleth!” she shouted, obviously overjoyed to see him. Settling him in the crook of her left arm, she asked him questions about his travel and his companions while she gently tucked his blonde hair behind his ears. She did not release him when she continued to direct further carts to their destiny, talking to many of her subjects and paying careful attention to everyone’s answers. Most of the vehicles had now entered the second court and she was slowly moving along with them when a surprised cry and eagerly pointing hand from the small figure on her arm focused her attention on him.

Flicking her head and following his line of vision, she turned to face several palace guards riding into the main yard. “These are elven guards”, she told the little boy when she started to move towards the leading rider. Seeing her advance, Tariel, the head of my palace guard, stilled his horse to wait for her approach. “My princess”, he greeted her, inclining his head and touching his heart. She curtsied in return. “Commander”, she replied, while gesturing to the tiny human nestled into her left side, “it is my pleasure to introduce you to Haleth. This young squire hopes to join the palace guards one day.” Tariel inclined his head towards the boy, and the star-struck midget was eager to return the gesture, which elicited a small smile from the usually stern leader. “If it pleases my lord, would you be so kind to instruct him about your duties in guarding the palace at some time in the future, so that he may understand how the palace guards are organized?” Elaine asked.

Tariel, who was bonded and father of two small elves himself, readily agreed, and a meeting after the following morning roll call was arranged among them, so that the boy could join him and ride on his horse when inspecting the diverse guard and sentinel positions. Lady Elaine then proceeded to point out the rank, armour and weapons of the departing guards to the small human, who was eagerly listening to her exhaustive and patient explanation.

A nagging feeling was budding in my chest. With her people, the light which the Lady Elaine always carried within her shone so bright that it was almost painful to view. Seeing her deep love and devotion towards the human Arrân, something like jealousy was creeping and twirling under my ribs. It was then I first realized that concerning her I did not like to share.

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

The next morning I found myself in the same spot, waiting for the princess to emerge from below. Without fail, she stepped on the stone floor shortly after my arrival, dressed in a black, shimmering tunic which was reminiscent of an elven armour and armed with her dagger which she wore at her side in the stead of a sword. The little human boy ran towards her from the second court and today she knelt down to gently embrace him, wishing him a good morning. He beamed at her and she then proceeded to lift him over her head so that he could settle on her shoulders and tower over her. Her careful intake of breath and steadying of her torso before she lifted him high up did not escape my notice and I ground my teeth in frustration. It was still too early for her to undertake such actions which directly tore at her newly healed chest and side wounds. Luckily, she seemed fine and rose with her usual grace as if not noticing the additional weight at all.

When she had arrived in the main court, the morning role call was just about to begin and she somehow managed to fall in the background, standing next to and blending into the wall which separated the two courts, so that she did not interfere with elven routine or attract unnecessary attention. In spite of this she was granting a full view of everything which was going on to the boy on her shoulders. The tiny mortal was mesmerized by the display. Apart from giving the usual orders of the day, Tariel today made sure to include some sword practice into the routine, which the princess used to copy some of the moves with her dagger in slow motion to illustrate the correct execution to her small passenger who was profiting from his vantage point. When Tariel had finished and the elven soldiers dispersed to take up their posts, he rode next to the Lady Elaine who simply turned sideways so that he could pluck the mini human from her shoulders and place him onto the saddle in front of him. With a content and caring smile, she thanked him and waved both off.

To my surprise, she did not return to the palace, but made straight for the second court, from which she reemerged some moments later, carrying an embroidered bag which contained a square object. She then directed her determined steps towards the armoury. I followed her unseen to discover what she was planning to do there. She greeted the arms master politely and took a beautifully carved wooden box of elven origin out of her bag, placing it before the surprised elf and proceeding to explain to him that it contained payment for any weapons, pieces of armour or horses which the Arrân fighters would need now they had arrived. It was her wish for them to start training with the elven guards as soon as possible and she asked him to use the content of the box as payment for their first equipment, at a time when the Arrân blacksmiths had only just begun to forge their weapons and no other income was immediately available. The master opened the box and inhaled sharply, all movement stilled. His eyes glued to the content, he whispered hoarsely after some moments of silence -

“The Star of the Night.” ---

“My lady, you cannot give me this ancient heirloom of your family. It is much too precious. I am sure King Thranduil would greatly disapprove of your parting with it. I am sure that he would grant you any wish concerning the equipment you just mentioned…”

She cut in, her voice determined and steady.

“You misunderstand me, Master. This is not the most precious item which I would have considered giving you to ensure that my people can start to train with the elven guards immediately to enable them to better defend themselves and their new home. It is just that my mothers’ sword Líthorin was lost during the battle of Dale and I cannot use it as payment as I would have wished. My people are the most precious inheritance I have received from my parents and no gems or rare stones can reach their worth, no matter how splendid they may be. This is my wish.”

Determined to end their dialogue, she inclined her head to the thunderstruck arms master, turned around and left, calm and fully at peace with her decision.

When I entered the armoury, the master was not surprised in the least. He still looked aghast and wordlessly gestured towards the invaluable gem which lay sparkling inside its wooden casket. I turned around the open lid to fully see the most intricately crafted silver elven circlet I had ever lain eyes upon. Its winding waves gathered into a starshaped stone set in its middle, of such purity that it glowed in glittering clear light and all colours of the rainbow. It downright illumined the semi-darkness of the armoury, changing the atmosphere into an unusual crepuscule reminiscent of the coming of aurora. Without saying a word, the master carefully shut the gleaming casket and reverently handed it to me, adding-

“I will make sure that the Arrân will be equipped with any items of weapon or armour and any horses they might want, my king.”

I merely nodded and left to step out into the sunlight, gripping the precious article close, and with a determined look turned towards my private quarters.

Chapter Text

~ Reader POV ~

I felt delighted when I was slowly finishing my braid, leaving the ears visible and so emulating the intricate Eryn Lasgalen style, well-nigh transforming myself into a royal elf. I smirked at the thought, thinking of how the evening before I had effectively ruined my practice sword in the most unfeminine way possible during the first human-elven sword practice and mentally comparing my mirror image with the imposing presence of the real regal elf in the palace. I chuckled at the contrast.

My heart was unusually lightweight while I was marveling at the exquisite dresses King Thranduil had gifted me with. In an effort to show him my appreciation I had put on one elegant dress with flowing sleeves whose mulberry-coloured fabric was embroidered with an unobtrusive design of entwining silvery leaves. I was to meet him now in order to be briefed about the details of the evening ceremony. With a last look into the mirror to make sure that I was looking neat, and glancing shortly at the stately robe and gown which were waiting for my later robing procedure – both miracles of elven craftsmanship - I then made for the throne room as King Thranduil had desired. My step was light as I was thinking over how cheerful my people were settling into their new home. That was one of the reasons I was looking forward to the evening ceremony with great joy. I would swear allegiance to the Woodland King in a solemn ceremony followed by a small feast for all the humans and elves living in the palace so that the races could start to mingle and get to know each other better. I had greatly appreciated this plan.

After some minutes I had reached the throne room and was immediately admitted into the King’s presence. He glanced up shortly when I entered and then proceeded to finish a sentence he had been in the process of writing while I stepped nearer. I dipped into a curtesy and greeted him.

“Your majesty.”

When I straightened up he was getting up also, his striking eyes caught by the shimmering fabric of my dress which he seemed to enjoy, as his features softened imperceptibly. Lifting his gaze slowly to my face, his imposing body suddenly tensed and he went rigid, his eyes widening in shock while all colour drained from his face. He exhaled sharply and winced as if someone had hit him forcibly.

I was dumbly registering his inexplicable reaction. Breathing heavily, his eyes flicking from one side of my head to the other, his hand was subconsciously reaching behind to support his weight on the heavy oaken table. His look of pure horror was fading, for now he was turning livid.

~ Thranduil POV ~

I

could

not

believe

what

I

saw.

An unseen iron fist had grabbed and squeezed my chest. My whole being rebelled against the hideous sight. I could not process it, refused to acknowledge it. The contrast between her breathtaking eyes and her ears threw me into a blind rage. I was choking, trying not to grasp and shake her violently to learn sooner what had been done to her.

“Who cut your ears?”

I hardly managed to hiss the words, shaking with unbridled wrath. It made me nauseous to picture her, someone taking a knife to her ears, most sensitive to the touch like those of an elf. I could still not believe my eyes, staring incredulously at the sharp cuts where two graceful pointed ends should have commenced. What had happened? Who had dared to torture her thus? And how could it be, unrivalled fighter that she was?

Understanding now flooded her expressive eyes, but she did not immediately speak, evidently debating with herself how best to proceed. Her look flicked while thoughts were whirling in her head. She briefly glanced at me, but could not sustain my burning anger. She opened her mouth to speak, but remained tongue-tied. I pressed her, impatiently.

“Who has done this to you? ”

Cornered, she started-

“My king, it was---”

When I was glaring at her, she broke off, disheartened as she realized that she could not feed her ‘it was an accident’ to me. She resumed-

“My king, it is not important any more. ---”

I would have none of it and grabbed her upper arms, jerking her close, my patience utterly exhausted.

“WHO. DID. THIS.”

Her shoulders sagged in defeat, her brows contracted slightly as she was looking up at me, full of remorse for what she was about to say, her look suggesting that she was loath to inflict pain on me.

“My lord,” she resumed tonelessly, “do you remember that I told you that Laerd’s friends had stabbed me after I had risen to speak during the audience of Lord Tiarna, what they saw as my affronting impertinence?”

I merely nodded for her to continue, not reducing my grip on her in the least.

“The audience happened after the surrender of Dale when our small army was greatly diminished. As the fighting was over I had only taken two of our most trusted advisors with me then. They were unarmed. On our way back we were cornered and attacked by Laerd’s friends. I fought them, but when I had killed three and injured another, my companions had been captured and I surrendered my sword in exchange for the promise that they would set them free. Which is what happened.”

She wavered, glancing up at me. I would not relent.

“When they had fled, I tried to escape, but was outnumbered. Some of the men pinned me to the ground and one of them-“ she swallowed, her gaze now bent on the floor “-pushed his dagger through my chest to pin me to the ground while another unsheathed a hunting knife and --- and cut off the tips of my ears.” She had whispered the last words and now stopped, my heavy breathing the only sound in the room. “I lost consciousness. They left me to bleed to death in the alley. But my councilors had only hidden themselves and were hurrying back to me when it was safe to do so. They carried me all the way back to the Keep and after several days it turned out that I would live.”

No one spoke. She softly moved. Her small hand adorned my heaving breast and she looked up, full of empathy at my conflicting emotions.

“Please do not take this to heart, my king. They had directed their anger solely towards me, the ‘subhuman bastard’. If that was the price to pay to keep my people from harm, I was prepared to pay it to protect them. I have made my peace with how I look now. Please do not let their spite succeed by tormenting yourself over my appearance. This is in the past. I want to look towards a future which now smiles at me full of hope.”

I gazed down at her, my raging temper battling within me. Finally I turned from her to try and calm myself down, trying to fight down the searing pictures of her screaming and twisting under the fists of a pack of scum sneering at her. Not that I would have bothered to check my fury for anyone else. If I could find out who did this to her, the filth would die a slow and most painful death, I would personally see to it.

I paced up and down the throne room, running my hand over my face. Although I understood that it was my duty to respect her wishes, I could not bring myself to accept her mutilated look. That my beautiful light had been subjected to such horror was not something I could ever make my peace with.

Not ever.

I stilled in front of the high ornamented glass doors which opened onto a marvelous view of an enchanted garden. I tried to let the beauty seep into my soul to calm my mind and then decide upon the best path to pursue. When I had made up my mind, I turned towards her. She was still standing where I had left her, calmly watching me. I stopped in front of her.

“Do you want me to heal you?” I asked.

At first she was surprised at my words, but then her brows slightly contracted with a thought.

“What do you mean?” she ventured carefully. “The cuts have healed already.”

I gave her no quarter.

“I mean to reconstruct the original shape of your ears, as they were before.”

Her eyes widened, she shied away from me.

My eyes narrowed.

“You mean to heal me with your magic?”

“Will it hurt you?” she interrogated me, while her whole posture spoke of her great uneasiness at the prospect of being a cause of my weakening.

I raised my eyebrows and leaned forward.

“I am the King of the Woodland Realm. All that lives and grows in my empire is under my protection and it is my power that banishes the growing darkness from my land. Healing you would not impact me other than needing a good night’s rest.”

This seemed to reassure her, but she still eyed me sceptically. Sure of my course, I went on to explain:

“I will touch your ears while casting the spell and it is necessary that I hold both of your arms to immobilize them so that you will not touch your ears during the healing process. You will experience a feeling of strong heat and an uncomfortable tingling sensation, but this is necessary for your recovery. Can you agree to all of this?”

She looked at me, solemn but with a resolved expression.

“I agree to everything, my lord.”

I stepped closer and placed my hands over her mutilated ears, my lips moving to whisper an ancient spell. A strong gust of wind pushed angrily against the closed doors and then moved away, dying in the far distance. She started and closed her eyes. I grabbed her arms and held her in a grip of iron, closely monitoring her slightest move. I felt how her body went rigid as she fought the urge to squirm free of my hold. As the healing continued, her eyebrows contracted and she snarled like a lioness which exposed her deliciously sharp white canine teeth. She tensed further, but did not move, courtesy of her enormous willpower. I was impressed.

When two lovely curved ears had emerged, she exhaled and opened her eyes, fixing her stare at me. My falling hair was touching her face and she was enveloped in my presence. I did not let her go, but reduced my grasp to caress her arms. Neither of us moved or spoke.

I lifted my right hand to cradle her ear and the side of her head, my long fingers disappearing in her thick ebony hair. My thumb moved to stroke softly over the top of her pointed ear while I registered her every reaction. A high-pitched cheep of surprise escaped her, superseded by an enticing small sound of pleasure when she involuntarily shivered at my touch. As I continued to stroke her, she fought the urge to moan with pleasure, as she instinctively knew that such a vocalization would be a mark of weakness which had to be avoided at all cost. Her training as soldier and heir to the throne had made her internalize that any sign of weakness had to be suppressed immediately. However, this focus on controlling her voice meant that she could not police her bodily reactions on the same level and availed me of the opportunity to witness her slowly closing her eyes, her long black eyelashes pressing together while her head moved slightly backwards into my palm as she was caught in the throes of passion, her body shaking and her back arching, pressing itself into a hollow back. Her whole lean, trained body had opened itself up to me, offering itself and beckoning me on while she shakily exhaled to prevent the smallest noise. I devoured her, my eyes dilated and my lips slightly parted while I was breathing in sync with her.

I stilled my hand before my self-control had completely slipped away, for I was in great danger of pressing her into me, never to release her again.

She slowly opened her eyes, only gradually taking in her surroundings and my closeness. I did not move, but my mask of calmness was put firmly back into place. I smiled down at her.

“Your ears have healed completely and I am delighted that tonight you will appear as the beautiful princess of the Arrân which your mother and father knew.”

She was still nonplussed and visibly trying to work out what had just happened to her, which I greatly reveled in. Obviously, no man had touched her like this before. And I would make sure that it remained that way. Loath to release her, I nevertheless moved my right hand back to her upper arm, my fingertips lightly touching the rich fabric of the dress which accentuated her alluring silhouette.

“Do you feel well enough for a trial run of this evening’s ceremony, my princess?” I asked.

Mentioning this task brought her instantly back to reality. She beamed up at me, nodding her head with determination.

“With the greatest pleasure, my king.”

Chapter Text

~ Reader POV ~

When the feast had started and I had taken my seat to the right of King Thranduil, I was starting to feel somewhat lightheaded, which was a bit absurd, as the stately ceremony during which I had sworn allegiance to my mighty king now lay behind me. But while I had been concentrated on every step of the sequence, careful not to trip when kneeling before him it was only now that I was truly hit by the magnificence of the elf next to me.

Thranduil had worn his spiked hawthorn crown, adorned with Athelas, whose white, star-shaped flowers had been in full bloom amid lush green leaves which were woven so richly into the base of his crown that they seemed to grow out of the roots of the thorny hawthorn twigs. My heart fluttered dangerously when I realized that the king and I wore matching robes and gowns, for he also had donned a vermilion robe of thick, heavy silk and a wide brocade gown the colour of the deepest azure sea. However, while my robe was covered with a rich embroidery of glittering stars, his was strewn with an intricate pattern of stylized flower buds girded by leaves reminiscent of the antlers of his elk. His large collar which was open to the neck was rimmed with a thin lapel stitched of pure gold threads, echoing the colour of his wonderful hair. I could not take my eyes off his regal appearance while I slowly approached him, my heavy gown trailing on the floor behind me.

Now I was giddy from the thought that I had just sworn allegiance to this marvel and was somehow bound to him. I enjoyed the thought that we were now joined by a connection which could not easily be severed. While he would not be an indulgent liege lord, he was just and would do everything to protect those under his care. I was happy and content.

I smirked when something crossed my mind. With the feast begun, it was after all time to enjoy myself. Once more I picked up the engraved wine glass which I had only touched briefly to take a small sip when everyone drank to their (new) lord. I turned a little towards my left, sending a mischievous and therefore highly inappropriate glance towards my king, sure that he would notice me even if seemingly unaware of my small movement. In a fluid, levelled motion he turned his head and torso towards me, his half-lidded eyes finally breaking into a killing glance. Purely as precaution he glowered at me.

Even in his sitting position, he was practically dwarfing me. I reverenced my glass with its ruby-coloured liquid to him.

“Your humble vassal pays homage to you, o my king,” I said, severely tempting fate with a challenging grin. His nonreaction spoke volumes while he was not taking his cerulean eyes off of me.

After a short pause, I added:

“… although I am not sure if you will not soon enough regret your decision and wish me miles away from Eryn Lasgalen. Are you not afraid of being stuck in eternity with only half an elf such as I?” I flung at him.

He continued to scrutinize me, then suddenly his right hand shot forward, plucking the near-full glass out of my hold and in one fluid motion he was now turning back to face the hall, fixing his gaze on the far end of the vast room. Next he was lifting the glass to his lips and downing it in one while gesturing to Elas to bring him another. I was stunned before I started to laugh soundlessly, admitting to myself that on the first round his majesty had won. Ah, the evening was still young. Other opportunities would present themselves.

It was a joy to meet so many of the king’s must trusted advisors and fighters who would by and by come to the head of the table to speak to the king and myself. My gruff lord had managed to assemble the most worthy, knowledgeable and amiable elves around him, and I relished every opportunity to meet them, during the weekly councils and now.

After a while, however, this joy came to an abrupt end.

The evening was well advanced and so dancing had started for some time. Out of the animated and cheerful bustle suddenly one of the lesser elven lords, a young and good-looking specimen, had materialized in front of me. He bowed to me while Thranduil tensed on my left.

“My princess, will you do me the honour of granting me your first dance?” he asked while eyeing me lecherously, obviously inebriated from too much wine. It seemed that his good looks and elevated status had led the young elf to believe that every woman or elleth – or half-elf – would fall for him straightaway. I was glaring at him, for his discourtesy towards his own king, who would not be deprived of his guest of honour, which I was at this feast, and then because I loathed his overblown ego which led him to affront many higher-ranked and more worthy men who would have taken precedence over him when it came to dancing with me. Lastly, he unmistakably belonged to those disgusting males who would generally profit from a good beating during a sword training session. I made sure to remember the pretty boy’s face for this purpose.

But now was not the time to cause a scene and show this good-for-nothing his right place. I was tilting my head to the side while sizing up the little lord. With a graceful motion, I stood up to face him.

“I am afraid, my lord, that this evening is not one where I shall choose to dance. But I thank you for your kind invitation. Please enjoy yourself, I am sure you will find a graceful maiden which will be delighted to dance with you.”

I meant to reseat myself when he spoke up again.

“My lady, would it not be an expression of human-elven companionship if you would dance with me?”

I could not believe his audacity. Tearing me from the side of the elven king and leaving a glaring gap where his honoured guest and new vassal was supposed to sit would surely not help in creating a lasting human-elven friendship. I decided to put him down unmistakably by telling him the plain truth to end this sorry spectacle.

My voice was harsh when I informed him:

“My lord, I will not leave the side of my king this evening apart for one single dance which I had the temerity to already promise to an exceptional man whom I consider as most brave among men and whom I love with all my heart. So you see, the one dance I will dance tonight is already appropriated.”

I inclined my head without paying him any further heed and sat down. With a somewhat sheepish look, the immature boy bowed to me and left to find another partner. I exhaled thankfully.

It was only then that I realized that something had severely shifted next to me. I felt uneasy and glanced up at Thranduil and found him outwardly calm while his eyes were blazing. I was taken aback. Had the young elf really maddened him so? It was possible, for I knew of his love of protocol and all the long and short notes which had to be respected at an evening like this.

As I momentarily saw no way to appease him, I decided to arm myself with patience, hoping that some more welcome events would slowly erase the displeasure this green elf had caused my lord. I settled back into my chair, losing myself in the contemplation of the flitting crowd in front of me.

After a while, I remembered what King Thranduil had told me in the course of the day and turned to him, asking him the question:

“My king, are you tired? You have exerted yourself today because of me and I would gladly follow your example if it is your wish to leave the feast and retire. I have not forgotten that you must wish for a good night’s rest today.”

He had returned to drinking copious amounts of the heavy Dorwinion wine, and was not turning to me or acknowledging anything of what I had spoken. It seemed he was still in a dark mood. When I had already given up on receiving an answer, he suddenly stated:

“I will not leave ere I have seen you dance, princess.”

This answer relieved me, for I expected my partner any minute now that the clock had tolled eleven. Indeed, some minutes later a familiar kind-hearted, stout and matronly woman entered the hall, holding the hand of a small blonde boy. He was in high spirits and scooted towards me, stopping right in front of where I sat at the lavish table, bowing a small bow.

“Tîrana!” he greeted, looking up at me expectantly. Thranduil observed the unfolding exchange with growing interest. I had leaned forward to smile at the young cavalier.

“Good evening, Haleth. You have really managed to convince your Naneth to let you stay up until now??? I fear I will be scolded tomorrow,” I smiled. Taking his appearance in, I asked him:

“Is that a dagger at your side?”

He grinned proudly and nodded, for the small, intricately carved weapon seemed to be his latest acquisition. Only the Valar knew which elven guard he had enchanted to receive such a present. Undeterred, I explained to him:

“Haleth, you are now at a feast and in the presence of King Thranduil. This means that you have to bow to him first, please remember this the next time ---“

Immediately redressing his error, the blonde charmer turned and bowed deeply before the elven king who was now evidently well entertained.

“--- and carrying a weapon at a feast is considered highly discourteous, for it implies that you either feel unsafe or threatened or that you have a design to attack one of the persons present. Is this the case, Haleth?” I once more asked him.

With a grave countenance, the boy shook his head.

“Then off you go and give your dagger to your Naneth. I am sure that she will keep it safe for you until you return.”

The little blur ran to hand over the dagger as requested and shortly after took up his station in front of me again.

“Will you dance with me tonight, Tîrana?” he asked, full of hope and near bursting with excitement at the prospect of having me all to his own for his first dance. I could not suppress a smile, but his lesson was not yet over for the evening.

“Tonight I have sworn allegiance to King Thranduil, Haleth,” I explained to him, turning the surface of my hand up to indicate the stately elf sitting next to me.

“This means that tonight I am his guest of honor and he has a right to my company, for he has done us all much good. Do you understand that?”

A vastly disappointed look appeared on the boy’s face all the while he was honest enough to nod that, yes, he understood what I meant. But I had not finished.

“If you want to dance with me, you must ask his permission first. I cannot come with you unless he grants it, my love.” Leaning slightly back, I observed his reaction.

Scuttling two steps to the side, Haleth now glanced up at the great king who watched this tiny mortal, now clearly fighting down his growing amusement at the situation which had unfolded under his eyes.

“King Thranduil, do you allow me to dance with my Tîrana tonight?” Haleth asked.

Searching for a good reason which would convince the king to let me go, he continued:

“This is the first time I can go to a dance and I want to dance with my Tîrana because she is the most beautiful woman and she is so nice and can fight with a sword” he stated, nearly causing me to sit there with my mouth agape.

The king chuckled at this unbeatable line of reasoning.

After a short moment of deliberation, he replied:

“I will let her go for one dance only and you are to bring her straight back to me, no lingering”, he stated in his commanding voice. “For I will not sit here long without the most beautiful woman either.”

Disbelieving, I contemplated the two concurring blonde men beside me, now definitely worried. Both were ripe with mischief and I did not know which one was the more dangerous among the two.

In the meantime, Haleth had whizzed round the table and was extending his hand towards me. I got up and affectionately entwined his fingers with mine, turning towards my king and curtseying politely in silent thanks.

Thranduil eyed my small companion.

“Remember, one dance!” he said, and watched us scurry away towards the moving and turning pairs.

Haleth had taken great pains to learn the steps of the Elven dance and I smiled fondly at him, making sure to be as graceful a partner as possible and encouraging him to continue when he made a false step. The fact that I had secured the most gorgeous and enchanting dancing partner among all the humans and elves led to many encouragements and my little cavalier was beaming with joy. When the dance had ended too soon, he embraced me happily, and then once again took my hand and led me back to my seat at the high table, as he had promised the mighty elven king. Taking my leave from him, I curtsied before him while he bowed to me.

“Now you must go back to your Naneth, Haleth, for it is late. You must go to bed now or I will get scolded tomorrow for keeping you so long.”

I bent down to kiss the crown of his head and then tousled his golden hair. “Off you go, my love!” I commanded, my eyes following as the small squire left the hall at the hand of his Naneth, excitedly gesturing and chatting with her, rearmed with a glinting dagger.

Thranduil studied me as I curtsied to him again before resuming my seat on his side.

“Are you planning on having another dance tonight?” he asked me suddenly.

Turning my head to smile at him, I responded:

“My love has left, my king, and I will not dance with anyone else tonight.”

Content with this answer, he motioned to Elas, as sign that he would leave the feast, while I took this as the hint to slip away unnoticed. This memorable day had gifted me with a lot of pleasant memories and I was content to revisit them in my chamber when alone.

Chapter Text

~ Reader POV ~

When I had passed by Thranduil’s private quarters, which were situated before mine, I was surprised to see an armed elven guard stationed before my chamber door. I approached the young soldier who bowed deeply. Anticipating my question, he ventured to speak:

“My lady, I was ordered by King Thranduil to make sure that no one entered your chamber while you attended the feast and to wait for your return. If you have no further order for me to execute, I would take my leave from you now, my lady.”

Somewhat taken by surprise, I declined his polite offer and wished him a good night. I was at a loss to account for this precautionary measure. There were always two armed guards stationed at the entrance of the corridor which led to Thranduil’s private rooms and his and mine were adjoining each other with no one else living there. The corridor had a dead end behind my baths, so that it was impossible for anyone to enter unobserved anyway. Why the additional guard? And heavily armed? I wondered while opening my chamber door.

I surveyed the room and my sweeping glance was arrested by a long, rectangular form on my writing desk. On a red damask cloth sat a wooden box of unknown origin. I stepped nearer to admire the elven handiwork. A master carver had transformed the container into a marvel of wooden leaves, with vines twining around glittering starshaped flowers inlaid on its surface. I hesitatingly touched the opulent case and trailed my fingers along the intricate ornamentation. The casket was very long, and I could not imagine what it could contain. Slowly lifting the two metal clasps, I proceeded to open the lid.

It was astounding surprise that wrung a piercing cry from me, and I stared and stared.

In front of me, carefully nestled on a lush bed of magnificent blue silk lay the slim, deadly form of Líthorin. Its ethereal beauty stung my eyes. The razor-sharp silvery-white blade seemed to glow, as if greeting the familiar face which was staring down at it. The hilt was exuding a cold elegance as always, its elvish decorations so elaborate that anyone would be surprised that it felt solid to the touch. I was transfixed. Never before had I had the feeling that what was now my sword carried a life of its own, which was moving and whirling in the white-glittering glow along its full length. My eyes went moist.

***

I gently lifted the age-old sword from its proud resting place. At my touch, its luminescence had awakened and intensified. Wielding it made my arm feel whole again. Exuberant joy was mixed with black sorrow as I slowly went through the stances my mother had taught me. Líthorin still felt weightless and heavily solid at the same time. Then I put the priceless sword back.

My thoughts immediately turned to Thranduil. My king had offered me the most precious gift by returning this most prized possession to me. How he had done it was a mystery, but it must have cost him a fortune in pains and money, this much was certain. I was longing for him, aching to thank him for his magnanimous and compassionate deed.

I flew out of the room, my feet barely touching the floor, immediately finding myself in front of his chamber door, at which I knocked with growing impatience. At last, his deep voice allowed me to enter. Rashly I invaded his study, only briefly slowing to locate his imposing figure. He had just removed his gown, letting it flow over a low settee, and was now in the process of turning to me to see what the commotion was. I barreled into him, not stopping for a second or slowing down my speed.

“My king!” I breathed into his broad muscled chest as I was hugging him, fiercely holding him close, pulling him to me. Evidently ambushed without warning, he did not react at once. But after a heartbeat his arms closed around my slight frame, wordlessly encasing me and completely pinning me to his front. I wanted to stay like this forever. But I had to thank him.
Turning my head up along his chest to reach his downward glance, I exhaled: “Thank you, my king, for the most precious gift I have received in my life. I will not forget your kindness till the day I die.”

~ Thranduil POV ~

She was thanking me with the most expressive loving glance in her feline eyes. Two tears had moistened her long black eyelashes and time stopped when I could finally hold her in my arms, pressing my precious light close to me. She did not move and continued to adore me, which had my walls crumbling instantly. Slowly, by inches, transfixed, I moved my head down and only stopped when I could inhale her intoxicating scent of wild honey, which carried with it a rich earthen note of summer soil after the first rainstorm. A jolt went down to my loins. Looking up at me, her full lips opened imperceptibly while her clear eyes were searching mine.

I closed the remaining distance and gently pressed my lips to hers, sampling her sweet inebriating taste, instantly greedy for more. I pressed her harder, and she responded shyly when I moved my hand to the back of her head to open her up to my deepening kiss. She was breathing heavily now, completely lost in the new feeling. I moved my tongue over her lush lips and pressed down, urging her to open her delicious mouth to me. Which she did, and I indulged myself when I chased and flicked her tongue and was lecherously licking and tasting her sharp canine teeth. Overwhelmed, she clung to me, struggling for breath, her pupils newly darkened. She was scraping my chest and quietly moaning when mimicking my movements. Her delicious sounds made me shudder and instead of granting her relief, I mercilessly took my time and devoured her broken mewls. I had waited for her exquisite taste far too long and could not now control myself. It was only when her knees started to shake that I broke what seemed an eternal kiss. Drinking in her ragged breaths, I growled, pressing and rubbing her center harshly between my legs, pushing her hard into me before I even registered my actions. She had no force left whatsoever. I was a cruel first love for her, I realized. But I could not release her. Holding her close, my blonde hair mingled with her ebony colour. I tried to calm myself. Much as she tempted me in her utterly defenseless state, I did not want to take her now, when she must be lost in a whirlwind of emotions. I placed a kiss between her eyebrows, at which she chirped surprised, her voice clear as a bell. This did nothing to calm my excited hunting drive. Still I held her close. She beamed up at me, manifestly content to rest in my arms.

“I am glad that you are joyful, princess,” I finally replied.

She nestled closer into me. This reinforced my wild determination to irrevocably secure her.

“Will you promise me that you will come back tomorrow evening to show me Líthorin?” I asked.

She moved her glance from the strand of my hair she was caressing up to my eyes. After a short deliberation, she nodded.

“I give you my word to come tomorrow, my king.”

I exhaled. With a last kiss to her hairline, I had to release her, albeit grudgingly, for the evening. She understood and left me after placing her delicate hand over her heart and bowing her head while dipping into a curtesy so deep that she was effectively bending her knee before me once more. The movement of her elegant figure seemed to stay behind long after the door had closed. But now I turned to undress urgently, as I had to get some relief from what she had unwittingly done to my body.

Chapter Text

~ Reader POV ~

After the Arrân morning council had ended, I was directing my steps towards the main court in order to greet the Rohanese horse trader which my friends had invited to Eryn Lasgalen in order to deepen our trading relationship as had been promised to King Thranduil. He had arrived with a small company the evening before and I was determined to examine the steeds on offer myself.

An unusual scene greeted me when I reached the court entrance which made me take pains to slip into the vast courtyard unobserved. On the center of the yard the horses were paraded by several young assistants of the trader while King Thranduil, battle-ready mounted on his Elk, was carefully studying the quality of the goods from lofty heights, with Tariel and a full unit of Elven guards on their horses assembled behind him, only waiting for his order to depart. The glinting of their rich weapons and strong armour formed a strange contrast to their disciplined stillness. I had assumed that he would already have left in the direction of the cloud waterfalls for some time now, as that was where an infestation of spiders had been reported during the weekly council the day before.

This motionless assortment of mounted Elven magnificence had attracted the most lively attention. Nearest to me, at a modest distance from the Elven soldiers, a group of little Elves had assembled, chatting excitedly while marveling and pointing at the formidable spectacle transpiring in front of them. Recognizing a friend of Haleth in one of the taller Elven boys, I decided to join the vastly star-struck group and greet him.

When I joined the circle he was expounding to a small red-haired elleth:

“… I like his Elk. I think it is faster than the fastest horse. And a lot stronger and it carries you farther than any other animal. When I am grown up, I also want to ride an Elk. No one can attack you from the front when you ride an Elk!”

Smiling, I only nodded my head in greeting at him and the others as his female friend immediately retorted:

“I like his hair. I want to have long blonde hair, too. It is catching the sunlight. But my mother says that hair colours cannot be changed. I wish mine were golden, too.”

She sighed heavily. I noticed that she wore an exceptionally beautiful and intricately woven braid and made a mental note to ask the fashion-conscious little lady later if she could teach me how to produce it.

Suddenly she turned to me as the newly joined half-human of the group:

“King Thranduil is sooo beautiful.” She cooed. “Do you like King Thranduil, Lady Elaine?”

My eyes widened in shock at the unexpected question and involuntarily snapped towards the towering elkquestrian statue with its blonde rider in front of me. Elven ears had fine hearing and I had already wondered at King Thranduil’s patient tolerance of the obsessive enthusing which was going on right behind him. He seemed to have a soft spot for miniature humans and elves after all, it seemed.

But now I was sure that all Elven ears on the court were listening in.

But I would not be intimidated.

Turning to the elleth who looked at me with expectant eyes, I replied with a kind voice:

“Of course I like King Thranduil ---,”

then turning my gaze towards the tall elven boy

“--- but I think I like his Elk best.” The lean elf beamed, excitedly nodding at my concurring statement.

Out of the corner of my eye, I registered how Tariel had suddenly bent his head down, evidently in an attempt to hide a smile.

I continued to explain:

“I think you are right, an Elk is faster than the fastest horse.”

Eagerly, he inquired:

“Can you ride on King Thranduil’s Elk, Lady Elaine?”

“Oh by the Valar, me, ride an Elk!!” I laughed out loud. Unsummoned, a vivid picture of my barely discernible slight figure on an enormous Elk, nearly invisible behind two sweeping, protruding antlers, had materialized in my mind. I could not help it. It was hilarious.

I was feeling the need to clarify my refusing reaction:

“I don’t think that it’s easy to ride an Elk, my dear. I don’t think that I could do it ---

--- I rode a Heavy Draft war horse from Rohan for some time in the past and you must know that these creatures have a certain innate knowledge about their considerable strength. If you want to ride and fight with such a mighty animal, it must first accept you as its rider before it will execute your commands. And – I was gesturing at my slender physique - I am not heavy enough a person to be able to achieve that immediately, you see. An Elk would barely notice me if I were sitting on top of it. It was not easy to be accepted by that big horse, so I am not sure that an Elk would do my bidding.”

The little circle looked at me, contemplative of what I had just elaborated upon.

Suddenly a big jagged shadow fell on our group and I looked up, startled. I was staring directly at the broad muscled chest of an Elk, then my gaze went up to take in a long Elk snout and soft nose, two enormous antlers and on top of it all the mighty elven king who was staring down at us.

Shocked silence reigned.

He commanded for all to hear:

“We gather here again in four hours. Princess, you will be so good as to avail Tariel and his new vice commander of an opportunity of horseback sword training. I see that you have Líthorin ready at your side. You will ride my Elk. And I expect you to fight to the finest level of your ability, my lady.”

I was frozen to the spot.

But he had not finished. Now eyeing the tall elven boy, he continued:

“Riding a heavy war horse from Rohan is considerably more difficult than riding an Elk. All Rohanese horses have a fiery, indomitable spirit and there are not many horsemen who can ride the best among them, let alone control them with accuracy.”

His look snapped back at me.

“And you should as a rule be especially wary if a fighter tells you he cannot do a deed which has to do with his occupation, for fear that he might want to downplay his own ability or lull you into a false sense of security. Never be deceived by appearances: it is not strength or weight that make a good warrior or rider, it is their skill and determination.”

Not breaking his erect posture an instant, he turned his Elk and lazily lifted his hand which had the Elven unit move as one and fall behind him instantly. I had rarely seen a more dominating dressage seat than King Thranduil showed on his impressive riding animal.

Then it hit me. I had to ride the King’s Elk in four hours, while fighting the two most talented palace guards. The realization made my stomach slump.

~ Thranduil POV ~

While the stable boy was adjusting the length of the stirrups, I watched closely how she went up to the Elk’s imposing head, slowly stroking the hard plate between his antlers as well as his long cheekbones and snout. My Elk enjoyed her gentle ministrations and watched her attentively, his ears on high alert. Although she did not utter a word, they seemed to communicate with each other.

Finally, she turned to mount him. When she was standing next to the imposing animal, she wordlessly turned to dart a telling glance at me, as it became evident that she was half a head shorter than my Elk. I remained deeply unimpressed.

Facing the animal again, she took a small step to her left and then suddenly leaped up, high into the air, pressed her left hand on the saddle knob and in a slowing movement she was slightly twisting her waist to gracefully land in the saddle. The little elf next to me hooted with glee. She assumed position and resolvedly gripped the bridle in her left hand. The stable boy had returned and was reverently holding a practice sword up to her. I did not intervene as she did not seem to wish to fight with Líthorin. I merely glanced at the two preparing soldiers to make sure that they carried blunted practice swords as well.

Her straight and impeccable posture spoke of the ease with which she was steering the potent animal. She already acquainted herself with how it tended to move its antlers in order to incorporate the knowledge into her fighting. Meanwhile Tariel and his companion had mounted their horses and the joust commenced. Elaine and the Elk moved as a unit, and she was proving very skilled in herding and pressing the two horse riders together at one side of the Elk, so that she could avoid being attacked from both sides and simultaneously use the animals’ antlers to constantly occupy one of them while she fiercely attacked the second soldier with vigorous and well-aimed strikes. The vice commander was soon disarmed by a vicious blow of her sword, but Tariel was more experienced and careful to evade the dangerous antlers and her sword and he moved lithesome. Now slowly circling, they were assessing each other. She seemed decided when she moved and stilled the sword in her right hand, pointing its tip towards the ground so that her arm and sword formed a straight outstretched line. She made the Elk move quickly backwards in a sloping route without breaking her focus on Tariel. Looking at her skeptically, my commander stilled his horse as he could not account for her strange behaviour when she backed away further, looking utterly regal and deadly in her posture.

Out of the blue, she urged on the Elk which in no time galloped directly towards my head guard in a full frontal assault, quickly taking on a frightening speed which had her rich dark hair flowing in waves behind her back.

I tilted my head.

Tariel froze for the split of a second before he realized that he had to move his horse and himself out of harm’s way – and fast. Under debilitating pressure to bring the horse to the side of the thundering Elk, both horse and rider were completely caught by surprise when shortly before reaching them the Princess violently reined in the Elk, causing the huge animal to rear on its hind legs, striking the air at their opponent with its front legs. Simultaneously, the Princess had stood up in the saddle and was screaming a piercing war cry worthy of a banshee. This now caused Tariel’s horse to rear up in fright, while the undisturbed Elk had speedily settled back into its former position, moving swiftly next to the near out-of-control horse and allowing Elaine to disarm Tariel whose grip on his sword had loosened while he fought to check his panicking horse. When she hit him, his sword flew several feet over the ground before finally clattering to the stone floor. She had him at her mercy.

I looked down at the young elf standing next to me. The magnificent display of her mastery had affected him so much that he would shortly need resuscitation. I looked back at my starlight.

She had already sprung from the saddle and was assisting Tariel in calming down his trembling horse. Next, she offered her underarm to help the commander dismount. Which he did, but instead of landing on both his feet, he was moving down, bending his knee before her and acknowledging her skill. She quickly grabbed his shoulders to lift him up, and was bowing to him, whispering something which made him look soothed and relieved.

At that moment my Elk gently nudged her back. She jumped a little at the sudden contact before turning around, smiling at the imposing animal and lovingly patting his snout and silky nose. The Elk inclined its huge head in front of her, enjoying her caresses and slightly shaking his antlers and hairy neck. After a while, she reached for the reins and led my Elk back to me, curtseying in front of me.

Wordlessly, I remounted my riding animal and left her prey to the chattering voices of an ecstatic group of admiring little elves.

Chapter Text

~ Reader POV ~

When I entered Thranduil’s study in the evening, he was calmly sitting at his desk, reading a report. I, however, was still reeling from what he had made me do.

“My king”, I commenced while curtseying to him, “all the palace now talks about how I fought on your Elk! And everyone seems to think that I am a marvelous rider and fighter, but that is not true!” I complained, exasperated. “I evaded the fight with Tariel and you have trained your Elk so much to perfection that he barely needs any guidance. But nobody will listen to me. Why did you make me do it?” I asked, annoyed at my newly famous and revered status which I did not appreciate in the least.

While I thus complained about the wrong impression which his order had created he had merely turned in his seat to watch me, lifting an eyebrow at my assessment.

“Princess, that someone could defeat the head of my palace guard without having to engage in a fight with him first was unthinkable before you accomplished your feat today. And all my soldiers have an excellent memory about what happened when I let anyone who wanted to ride my Elk give it a try at a tourney in Lothlórien several centuries ago.”

He leaned forward to underline his next words.

“He accepted no one. He would not even be touched without instantly shoving the affronting elf several horse lengths into the air, far away from him. I had to stop it all because several guards had broken ribs or arms after they tried to mount him.”

I stared at him, disbelieving. Then I groaned.

Thranduil settled back into his chair, leisurely. His look now had a red glint in it.

“You are princess royal of the Arrân and second only to me at this court. The light you carry inside of you, the love you have for your people is so bright that it is blinding, princess. Admiring you for your outstanding leadership and skills is your due and if you refuse to acknowledge it, I will take care that my subjects see what I see, as I did today. Everyone in my realm owes you respect and allegiance, my lady. Should I be absent you will take my place on the throne and in the council and I will not tolerate any doubt about your capability and right to do so.”

At his words all colour had fled from my face. He, however, seemed amused at my shock. Purposeful, he stood up and moved to stand in front of me, commanding the room in his splendour and majestic demeanor. His eyes moved to the sword I carried by my side.

“But I think you promised to show me Líthorin today.”

He gestured towards two comfortable chairs and a table in front of the high glass doors which led out into his lush private garden.

My cheeks were glowing when I produced the magnificent sword before his eyes. When I touched the hilt, it began to glow in a clear and warm, but subdued light. He nodded, having expected this effect.

“I prefer my elven twin swords because they do not attract as much attention.” He smiled, relaxed.

I beamed at him, indicating to him to watch the sword. In a moment, the light had retreated, leaving its surface covered in a matte charcoal black.

He was impressed.

“Not even Lord Elrond can control Hadhafang’s glow”, he mused.

“It is not really gone”, I explained. “I merely choose to reverse the flow of its light so that it collects in its center when I do not want to be detected during an attack or draw any unnecessary attention.”

He smirked at that. Next, he was asking me to explain the origin of the runes and ornaments on Líthorin, his lean fingers enclosing my small hand and turning my wrist joint if he wanted to contemplate the long sword from a different angle. My embarrassment did not diminish at this, but who was I to deny the elven king anything?

I was telling him how my mother had taught me patiently, giving me Líthorin during our training sessions and defeating me nevertheless every time during our sparring.

The recollection made me feel dejected.

“I was learning so much from her! Now I feel very alone and I wish I had someone who could teach me to wield it better, as she did. But it seems I am able to defeat everyone here. I am afraid that my fighting gets worse, now that I have lost the one person who was so superior that she did defeat me no matter what.”

“I think she could even have defeated me with a wooden stick.”

“How am I to fight for my people now if my best skill is needed?” I asked, more talking in desperateness to myself and the floor than addressing him specifically.

When Thranduil suddenly stood and moved towards a large wooden chest, I followed his movements with my eyes. He opened the heavy lid and withdrew his famous cut-out twin swords from it.

“I would think that I can help”, he merely stated, while ordering me to follow him out into his private garden.

Outside I looked at him, unsure of how to proceed. His offer was tempting, but I was abhorred by the prospect of hurting him in any way, even though this fear was presumptuous, if what I had heard about his unrivalled fighting ability was true. He clearly saw my concern and hesitation.

“I promise you, my lady, you will not find my skills inferior to those of the Lady Aléonor, so you can rest assured that no harm will come to me from our practice. I expect you to fight without holding back, princess.”

Convinced by his words that I could not harm him, I nodded.

We assumed our fighting stances. He was holding the twins slightly elevated while I was pointing Líthorin to the ground on my right.

***

When his vicious bi-handed blow had me crashing against the palace wall, his move had been so lightning-quick that I could not recover my stance during the short time in the air and only barely managed to avoid splitting my head open against the roughly trimmed boulders. When my head did connect, my sight was plunged in painful darkness, stars exploding from the back of my head. My left hip would be coloured with a deep black mark from the stone wall tomorrow and I tasted blood in my mouth, as I had accidentally bitten the inside of my left cheek. I could not instantly recover from the brutal strike and it was purely through muscle memory that I landed on two unsteady feet, blindly grasping for support with my left hand when I fell.

Two arms caught me and held me up like an unresisting puppet. I collected my wits while he held me so, passing in review what had just happened.

He was a completely new adversary for me. He combined the supernatural speed of my mother with vastly more experience and his peculiar brutal, overpowering strength. I was suddenly matched with a fighter who was just as fast as I, but who could foresee my every move and who was wielding more power than my mother and me had done combined. It was near frightening.

I had tried to attack him frontal and from the sides, but his swiftness meant that I could never outmanoeuvre him or find an open point of attack. Then I made the grave mistake to fall for his trap. It seemed that he presented an opening at his left side, and when I jumped forward to hit my target, both my feet had left the grassy ground. It was careless against this towering opponent. He used his grounded strength to the full and whisked me out of the air when he swung his twins sideways at me, connecting his fists with my right shoulder and hip. If he had fully executed his upward move, he would have simultaneously slit through my throat and entrails, leaving me dead by the time I’d hit the ground under my feet. His skill was truly inhuman.

I had steadied myself enough by now and moved my head to look up at him, catching his worried and clearly alarmed glance. Preempting his speech, I blurted out:

“That was fantastic. Please teach me in future.”

At first he did not move, contemplating me as if I had lost my mind.

Then I placed my right hand over his heart and smiled up at him, conveying all my love and joy at being with him with that one look.

When his arms gathered me to him and he moved down to kiss me, I was standing on my tiptoes, eager to meet him faster.

~ Thranduil POV ~

When I caught her rich lips, my torn heart started to calm down. I kissed and kissed her, feeling her warm pressure and drinking in her deep and rapid breaths which were still talking of struggle and war. Changing the angle of my kiss, I moved to press her against the wall behind her, holding her, imprisoning her, only for me to touch and to hold.

I wanted to savour more of her and gently bit her lower lip to make her open her mouth for me. At that her eyes flew open and she wanted to escape from my grasp, which was a hopeless undertaking, for I had her securely cornered.

“King Thranduil--”, she started, but I had taken control over her moving lips and my tongue moved to search for hers when I froze and broke the kiss. I had tasted her blood. She had hurt herself when she had hit the wall and not said a word.

I took a step back and immediately started to scan her body for injuries, when she stilled and imprisoned my searching hands within her slender ones.

“King Thranduil, please do not be alarmed over a slight cut and a bruise. I will heal in no time, as I have from the hits and blows my mother has dealt me. Please do not take this opportunity away from me. I want to train with you.”

Abhorred at the thought, I started to speak but she pressed my left hand before I could commence.

“I will try to make an effort and accept your view of me if you will make an effort and try to accept that our training will give me a bruise or cause a slight cut from time to time. I promise that I will get better. I am learning fast”, she insisted.

Backing away from her, I was pointing to her and about to protest at the obvious difference when she suddenly jumped up, flung her legs around my middle and grabbed my shoulders to lift herself to the level of my mouth and kissed me violently. Her onslaught had taken me completely by surprise. She would not relent and clung to me tighter, her center pressed directly between my legs. I was losing control, overpowered by the feeling of her soft body whose touch I had craved for so long. Her shape fit perfectly with mine and I could not release her for the life of me. Her movements had defeated my rational mind when I grasped her closer, greedy for her touch and heady scent.

Finally, I had her below me in the middle of my bed, encircled by my arms. Her white skin and cascading dark hair were forming the most beautiful contrast with my black silken bed sheets. I was devouring her mouth and then slowly moved along the hard jawbone to place a trail of wet butterfly kisses down her throat to finally lick the dip between her collarbone. I got irritated when I encountered the barrier of clothes and quickly removed her doublet and shirt, almost ripping the maddening material. When I had bared her upper body for my feast, my mouth went dry. Her warm breasts were perfectly formed and fit neatly into my hands. I leaned down into her honeyed scent to suck one of her pert nipples which made her writhe under my body, and in my peripheral field of vision I noticed how she bit the back of her hand to suppress a wanton moan. Skittish like a doe, she would even now try to avoid making any sounds. I set my teeth, determined to entice her to produce those delicious sounds which went directly to my groin.

I stroked along the bones of her ribcage and trailed my thumb over the lacerated dagger wound before I placed a soothing kiss on it. Her breath hitched.

I contemplated her sculptured belly and trailed my fingertips along its lengths until I found the beginning of her pubic hair when she reacted unexpectedly. At the touch, she tensed all muscles and bucked violently, her eyes flashing wildly. She bared her sharp fangs and hissed at me, instinctively trying to break free from my touch while her hands snaked forward, nails aiming at my throat when she caught herself mid-air and instead twisted her waist, determinedly grapping the bed sheets on her left to pull herself out of the bed, away from me.

Lightning-quick I grasped her hands and imprisoned her thin wrists on top of her head, careful to entrap her hips with my full body weight. She was breathing heavily as if I had just attacked her.

When she had registered her actions, she looked bewildered and I understood. Her belly was hypersensitive to the touch. The realization sparked my dominant streak. I leaned forward and commanded:

“Grab the ornamented roots of the headboard. You will not release your hands until I authorize it.”

She looked at me doubtingly, but did as I had told her.

Stroking her wavy ribcage did not lead to any unusual reaction, but when I stroked the smooth skin under her navel, she cried out and writhed, her knuckles white with the force of her grip. Moving my index finger along the feathery soft dip of her waist produced an identical reaction. I stared down at my prey, my pupils blown and my chest heaving. I wanted to instantly devour her. With a flick of my head, she released her shaking hands.

Carefully monitoring her every response, I continued my exploration. Her hips and outer thighs could be touched, but when I trailed my thumb along her inner thigh, she tried to clamp her legs shut and performed a second discontinued attack while trying to disjoint her shapely legs from my dominant body.

I chuckled darkly.

“Thranduil!” she complained “this is not funny!”

I buried her whole lithe body under mine when I prowled forward to stare directly into her eyes.

“I am delighted,” I breathed down at her “and I promise you that when this night ends you will have no force whatsoever left to complain, my lady.”

She obviously thought this the right time to retaliate, when her nimble fingers explored the muscles on my chest and then started to tease my nipples. I growled and bent forward to bite down on her neck and trapezius muscle. When she did not relent, I bit down a third time, this time worrying her, only stopping short of drawing blood. She squealed and laughed.

“Thranduil, I’ll have to wear a high necked dress tomorrow because of you!”

I was determined to regain the initiative and now trailed my long fingers over her center, feeling her heat and delectable wetness. Her note of summer soil intensified when I pressed my hand down, slowly gliding my middle finger into her fleshy leaves. She shuddered and clung to my shoulders, her breath torn. The urge to take her washed over me when she trembled in my arms and her hair flowed over my pillows like a dark waterfall. I removed my hand and pressed my thick, strained member onto her soft middle instead, pressing her down and tackling her in waves, relentlessly chasing a tormenting friction. A broken moan escaped her and she whimpered, her fingers ghosting over my body in search of release under the mounting pressure.

“Thranduil”, she whispered, her voice strangled, while her cat eyes glittered with unbridled lust “please come inside.”

Her soft plea stilled my action and I adjusted my position to slowly enter her wonderful body. Her head fell back and she shortly closed her eyes, her look glazed with the feeling of my overpowering desire entering her. I stilled my advance from time to time to give her time to catch her breath. With a last push, I had filled her completely and she whimpered into my hair, scratching down my back, tensing all around me.

I did not rush her and made sure that she had adjusted when I moved. I filled her with long, sustained thrusts which had her keening and wailing on my sheets within a short time. Only young green elves would mindlessly pound into such a marvel as was now writhing helplessly under my body. When she neared her climax, she could barely draw her breath and whimpered and I did not relent, whispering old words of affection into her ear.

When she was about to crest, she grabbed my shoulders and eyed me wantonly, completely given over to lust and my solicitude.

“My love.” She whispered.

Then her breath caught.

Caught completely off guard by her words, understanding caused me to follow her with a rough shout and I filled her with my love.

When I had stilled, I watched her slowly emerge from blissfulness.

She smiled a shy smile when she also realized that we had just bonded.

I was holding her to me, desperate for her touch and greedily inhaling her scent.

“I love you.” I told her before kissing her temple.

She snuggled into my arms and leaned her head on my chest, humming contently before drifting into a light sleep, completely sated from our first encounter. I stroked her hair, watching over her peaceful form.

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

My eyes flew open when I felt a hard thump and rub on my chest. Looking down, I saw the perpetrator: Elaine was resting her forehead on my chest and was breathing evenly onto my abs, her full hair flowing down over my left shoulder. But that was not the most extraordinary aspect within my sight. She lay fully on top of me and had twisted and entwined herself around me like a greedy ivy vine. Both her legs enveloped my muscled thigh and I would not take any guarantee for consequences if she moved her dangerously placed left leg in her sleep. From my excellent vantage point I could see the dark mark I had earlier created on her hip bone which was resting on my stomach. Her right arm only was drooping down onto the bed and touching my side, while her left arm had come up to encircle my right shoulder. Apparently she had wanted to adjust her ‘pillow’ a little during her sleep, which was what had woken me. I was satisfied when I realized that dawn was not yet upon us. I reclined my head in the bend of my arm, gazing down at her mesmerizing beauty. The next time she used her king as replacement pillow I would charge her with kisses, I decided.

When she stirred a little, I closed my eyes and waited.

***

~ Reader POV ~

When I slowly emerged from my dream and opened my eyes, my eyelashes grazed a warm substance whose colour I could not immediately make out. Disoriented, I next realized that my whole body was feeling strangely hot. When I finally sensed that something slowly moved below me, my head shot up and I grew stiff. I found myself on top of the elven king and felt panic setting in when I realized that I could not free my right leg (which was wound around and pressed under his) and that I was generally ill-advised to move any further, for fear that the shifting weight of my body would cause him to wake up and catch me in this wanton position. My move had already pressed my hips dangerously onto his muscular stomach and I held my breath, stilling any further movement.

Carefully, I placed my right underarm on the bed and shifted my weight gradually on that side. Bit by bit, I removed my left arm from his body and pushed my body up, leaning on my right arm, supported by my left leg. Holding my breath, I gradually and gently freed my right leg and finally moved to lie at his side. Verifying that he was still sleeping, I exhaled and silently thanked the Valar. I then lifted my head and located different items of my clothing on diverse spots on the floor around the bed and slowly turned, soundlessly swinging my legs out of the bed, my toes touching the cold wooden floor to get up. Out of nowhere two strong arms captured my waist and with a surprised yelp, I was snatched back in bed, finding myself this time only on top of the king’s chest.

I considered that an improvement.

~ Thranduil POV ~

“Where are you going?” I snarled, not releasing my prize.

When she had regained her balance, she shot a look out at the greying sky and whispered:

“My king, I have to go. I must return to my quarters ere the servants are up. It is not appropriate for me to be found here.”

She wanted to disentangle herself again from my grip, assuming that I would release her now following her reminder about propriety. Instead, I gathered her closer to me and glowered at her.

“It is not appropriate for my wife to sleep in my bed?”

My threatening tone dared her to contradict me.

She sighed, exasperated.

“Nobody knows that we have bonded tonight, my lord. How could they? If they found me here the rumour about the wanton half-elf beguiling the elven king would be spread all over the realm within the day!”

Again she resisted, determinedly. I flipped her on her back and imprisoned her within my arms, glaring at her.

“Do not move!”

I saw her head follow my movements when I left the bed to open an ornately finished large cupboard. I searched for some time.

After I had found what I sought, I returned to her.

Evidently frustrated by my command, she had in the meantime hidden her body and much of the bed under a thin white sheet of linen, unknowingly accentuating her tempting curves this way. I extended my hand to peel the cocoon away from the upper part of my disgruntled worm. With only one eye visible as she had encased her head in the crook of her arm, I moved the object I had fetched into her line of vision.

The effect was instant. Drawing in an appalled breath, her upper body shot up and she stared at the thing in my left hand, utterly petrified.

I waited.

After a while, she was looking up at me, and when I did not relent, she gazed at the object again, not daring to move.

I did not alter my position, fully relying upon my knowledge that her sense of propriety would have me prevail in the end.

I had patience.

When I had still not removed my hand, she grew restless, as she was now keeping the elven king waiting with her refusal. Gingerly, she slowly extended her delicate hand after furtively glancing at me again and reverently took up her new possession. In both her hands, she was now holding a smaller version of my silver clasp, which she could wear as clasp for her gown or as brooch on her dress. Its center formed a glinting tear-shaped amber, which was girded by silvery shoots designed to look like stag’s antlers, the symbol of Eryn Lasgalen.

“You will wear this every day from now on.” I merely informed her.

She did not react in the least to my words and seemed to have turned to stone while contemplating the symbol of her new status which rested within her hands. I did not tolerate contenders for her attention in any form and took the brooch, placing it next to myself on a drawer next to the bed. That seemed to rouse her.

Then I splayed back into bed, contemplating her mermaid-shaped half-hidden form, trying to settle on one of the many tempting offers her body presented. She noticed my wolfish appreciation and was taken aback.

“You will not let me go?” she breathed, looking scandalized.

Lazily, I trailed my look up her body.

“No.”

I snatched her back onto my chest.

“But I would be willing to be ensnared by you again, my lady. You looked tantalizing when you woke. And, I might add, quite adventurous.”

Her eyes went wide with the realization that I had been awake. Next, she was shooting me a dark look. Disgruntled. And quite resentful. I leaned back, expectantly.

With a quick move, she towered over me and glared. But then she hid both herself and my lower body under the thin sheet of linen, lowly growling and murmuring something. Hidden from view, she moved to trail kisses down my chest and stomach, gradually nearing a very dangerous spot. When she kissed my thigh, I moved to snatch her away, but she was expecting my arms and skillfully evaded my grasp.

Then a soft licking sound filled the bedchamber, like a cat licking water from a bowl.

I groaned.

Her soft hands found my pearls and stroked and explored lovingly.

I shuddered under her gentle touch and gave in to the feeling of her warm, wet tongue all over me, tasting me, teasing me, gliding over me.

Then her hands gripped my inner thighs and the licking stopped. Instead, two full lips and a torturingly warm, soft wetness enveloped me, her tongue flicking and rubbing over me. I tensed, my head fell back in agony.

When she gently sucked, I viciously ripped the bedsheets.

***

She was splayed out under me, eyes closed and presently unable to do anything but trying to catch her breath. I had utterly ravished her, and she had no force left whatsoever. Her arms were lying at the top of her head where they had fallen after she had released her grip on the bed. Her white legs were spread out wantonly before me, and I leisurely contemplated my masterpiece.

Her glossy lips were swollen, further accentuating their perfect shape. Her nipples were erect and equally of a deep redness. Her navel was still wet from the careful caresses of my tongue. Proof of my enthusiastic engagement dripped down her center and pooled between her legs. She had a new mark on the graceful dip of her right waist and a string of love bites and teeth marks on her inner thighs which were bearing witness to my sweet revenge after she had earlier refused to reemerge from under the sheets. I was satisfied with my work. She looked perfectly wrecked.

My blood was still coursing through my body, and my hunter’s instinct refused to die down quickly. Agitated by the power my touch held over her, I leaned over her and carefully circled her throat with my fingers. She opened her eyes at my touch, calmly watching me.

“If you ever let another male touch you like this,” I breathed, “you can just as well sign his death sentence for I will kill him with my own hands.”

Darkly glancing at her, I added, “And you will suffer!”

Undisturbed by my words, she stroked the tip of my ear, spellbound by its form.

“That is not possible, my king,” she quietly answered.

“Getting touched like this –“

she gestured to the bed

“-by any other man is a thought disgusting to me. If someone tried, I would attack him for his repulsive act.”

She looked fully at me.

“My king, I have never felt like other women, drooling over men. Before you, I never felt attracted towards a man. I never thought I would. I saw no one. Apart from you. Only you.”

Pacified, I wanted to lie down next to her when she seemed to think of something and a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes while she looked right through me, in a dreamlike state.

“Although, on second thought,---”

she began, quietly smiling to herself,

“--- I probably should have accepted your gentle Elk instead!”

When she dared to huff a small laugh at the recollection, I snatched her figure from the bed and disregarding her protests, carried her half-cocooned form into the adjoining room where I dumped her unceremoniously into the hot spring.

She immediately twisted to free herself from the ensnaring linen and dived down to the marble base of the rotund spring from where she then slowly drifted up, looking like a gracious dancer when she broke through the surface of the water, evidently enjoying the mineralic liquid which surrounded her.

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

“Haldir never comes into the baths in the morning”, I informed her from my station above.

“What do you want to wear today?”

Her quick glance outside the high glass doors into the slowly greying morning did not escape me.

“A tunic, please, my lord”, she responded determined and a little too hasty. I turned and left the bath.

When I returned with a bundle of clothes and her brooch and deposited them on a stool next to the pool I found her frolicking in the water. Delightedly moving through the gently wafting steam, she was trailing her arms behind her, raking the slow-flowing water with her hands and letting drops rain on her head. The events of the night had left her buoyant and I was feeling a calm contentedness.

My starlight was mine.

I had finished dressing and was standing in front of the large mirror of my dressing table when she was still merely enfolded in a long towel, contemplating the brooch. Eventually, she extended her hand to unfold a shimmering turquoise and cream coloured dress. The twining leaf pattern came to life under her touch.

She blinked.

Stepping beside me, she eyed me sceptically.

“My king, this is a dress.”

I looked down at her, stalling my comb.

“Yes.”

---

When she saw that I was not gracing her with an elaboration, she inquired:

“I did ask you for a tunic, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

---

In the silence, she knit her brows up at me.

“Why have you given me a dress, my king?”

“I asked you what you wanted to wear, but you did not answer my question, therefore I brought you what I wanted you to wear today.”

She was nonplussed.

“I did not answer your question???”

“No. You told me instead that you did not want to be seen by my servants in my private quarters and would choose to make for your rooms instead, quietly slipping out of my bath and lizarding over the wall between our gardens.--”

“Of which I disapprove.”

She stared at me.

Disbelieving.

Exasperated, she snatched the comb from my hand and used it to poke my chest.

“I demand satisfaction. For the dress. My request was perfectly reasonable.”

My eyebrows shot up. Threateningly, I leant over the little mutineer.

I was seriously contemplating to unwrap her on my dressing table right now.

“What do you want?” I hissed.

She moved a little to the side.

“Sit.”

After a moment of reflection, I sat down.

She was ignoring me, and combing my hair carefully instead. Her warm body moved slowly around me in line with her progress, while she was earnestly concentrating on her task, diligent to arrange all strands of my hair in an orderly fashion, and gingerly disentangling any knot. When she had reached her initial position, she stilled her small bare feet in front of me. Checking her work, she walked round me again, shifting some strands with fluid motions, quietly smiling to herself. Her subtle scent surrounded me, like the grace of a loving caress.

“You are neat, my king”, she finally announced.

I stood up and looked at the dress, then at her, at which she sighed, submitting to my wish.

When she glided into the study, I was stunned. The colour of her dress accentuated the mysterious depth of her eyes and she was standing tall, carrying the brooch with unconscious grace. My wife was breathtaking.

I approached her and bent to kiss the tips of her slender fingers.

“You must eat something, my love.”

Breakfast was served on the terrace table which was now bathed in the light of aurora.

“The council will begin shortly.”

To complement her dress I had chosen to wear a tartan red robe and graphite grey gown to the lord’s council. When she followed me down the large corridor I could feel her nervousness, but I did not yield. I had her now, finally, and everybody would honour her as was her due. I did not look back when I entered the throne room where the other councilors had already assembled. She followed me soundlessly. Before assuming her habitual place to my right, she curtsied to the others.

“My lords.”

The sound of her lovely voice carried through the room. The movement of all Elves around the table had completely stilled for a second before they had recovered enough to bow long and deeply to greet her in return. The human Lord Edoras who had led her vanguard when the Arrân had first come to Eryn Lasgalen had noticed her unusual entrance at the same time as he spotted the new ornament she wore. His discerning glance took in her rosy cheeks and slightly embarrassed expression and then flicked to my face, scrutinizing me.

I remained impassive. While I had at first strongly disliked the man, it had turned out that she truly adored him and he was loving her like a father, in effect substituting for her recent grave loss. He was fiercely devoted to her. As the most trusted and honoured advisor of Lord Theoca he had formed a close bond with her and would guide and guard his charge without fail. A true warrior from Rohan, he was schooled in the art of war and would never back off from a situation he disapproved. That he had chosen not to move from his place right now was a victory I relished greatly.

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

When I entered Elaine’s study unannounced one early morning, she was already in the middle of a conversation with Lord Edoras which had them both bent over a sheet of parchment.

“… we will have to put it here then”, she told him when I entered, while tipping a certain point on the paper with her quill. When both turned their heads to see who had come in, an awkward pause ensued. While Edoras remained stoic as usual, Elaine’s cheeks were getting tinged and she was flustered as if I had caught her stealing cherries. Advancing further to see what had embarrassed her so, I observed that the parchment only comprised two rectangles, and that she had tapped the interior, smaller one with her quill. She had wordlessly curtsied to me while avoiding my eyes and now quickly turned to Edoras, handing him the ‘incriminating’ sheet with a “Thank you, that will be all for today”, effectively dismissing her old friend with this – for her - unusually stiff and formal statement.

He took the paper, bowed to us and left unhurriedly while I wordlessly contemplated Elaine, cheeks aflame and severely agitated. She tried to hide her disconcertedness behind a familiar stillness while scrutinising the ground before her feet.

I waited in silence, watching her.

When she suddenly realized that she was being a bad host, she instantly lifted her eyes to mine.

“My king, is there anything I can do for you?” she asked with a subdued voice that fit her motionless figure perfectly.

My brows contracted.

Her eyes bent down again.

I sighed, exasperated.

“I have just received a message from one of the Istari, Mithrandir. He asks for a royal audience for himself and his delegation in two days’ time. Only the Valar know what absurdity he will come up with this time. Nevertheless I have granted his request. You are to join me when they are admitted to my presence. It is my wish that you experience the old idealist first hand.”

“With great pleasure, my lord. I will gladly accompany you.”

At that, I shot her one last look and walked out of her study.

***

When Haldir had withdrawn, I was pacing up and down in front of the high glass doors which led out into my garden. His findings were vexing. After Elaine’s flustered state I had ordered him to find out what she and Edoras were up to that she would not tell me. He had discreetly set about his task and unearthed that as of late the Arrân had set up a secret workshop in one of the old sequestered halls. It was guarded day and night and he estimated that at least one blacksmith was constantly working in it. Elaine must have devised the guard schedule and timing of the guard changing herself, for it bore her characteristic trait – it was flawless. Even Haldir had not managed to slip into the protected space to find out what they were actually doing there. She had gone so far as to even position an armed guard on the roof of the damned shed.

And only today Elaine had accomplished a feat which had me reeling. When Haldir had taken his station in the walnut tree and observed her after lunch, she welcomed one of her blacksmiths into her study and nimbly helped him climb over the wall between our gardens, knowing that I was then in the middle of a long council. She had entered my study and instantly produced one of my twin swords to the man for a thorough inspection. Haldir had watched them sticking their heads together, measuring, debating, disagreeing and minutely observing the weapon. In fact, they were taking notes for a full half hour, completely engrossed in their task, before Elaine had carefully placed the sword back next to its twin, mindful not to touch or disorder anything else. She assisted the man back over the wall and had him leave via her study, so that no one could suspect their little escapade.

I hated this incident, for I could not rationally explain it. My swords did not carry any special features which made them more powerful than other weapons and if she had asked me, I would have given her the twins without so much as a second thought for any close inspection she and her people might have wanted to perform on them. I was maddened by the fact that she had chosen to act behind my back and that the object which had gripped their interest were offensive weapons - which forced me to pursue this matter further. It was evident that they wanted to clandestinely replicate the twins, but I could not conclusively account for a reason to do so. Any other sword would have done just as well if they merely wanted to produce large numbers of weapons in secrecy. Then again, one hidden workshop would not lead them anywhere in that sense, and I was positive that no other workshop was run. It was irritating. My mood was so glacial that I momentarily wondered why no snowflakes were falling on the blooming midsummer flowers outside.

Gripped in a vicious and beastly mood, I sat down at my desk, determined to chase the thought of her from my mind for the evening and to search distraction in the piles of work there.

~ Reader POV ~

I laid down the last report from the Rohirrim. I had only read it superficially, for my heart really was somewhere else completely. My lord had not called me to his presence for two days now and I was ashamed to admit that I was missing him. Very much. His velvety voice, his invariably outstanding presence – and his bed. I was mad at myself for feeling so restless after not seeing him for two days only. Could I not live without touching him for such a short span of time? What would I do if he had to leave court to inspect the borders – or in case of war? He would not appreciate a wife that was clingy and needy, I scolded myself. But I was getting nowhere. There was no denying it - my whole being was drawn to his presence. Just looking at him would be a feast. I was fidgety.

Determined, I stood and went into the garden, stepping out of the ring of light around my study and into the rich floral perfume of the midsummer’s night. The sights and sounds of nocturnal nature beckoned me on. I loved the refreshing feeling of soft, cool grass under my feet.

Disregarding my impractical dress, I strolled over to the mossy garden wall and effortlessly jumped on top of it, careful to immediately balance my position so that I would not have to move about and create an unwanted sound. I did not want to disturb my lord, but sneaking a peek at what I reverenced was a temptation I simply could not resist. From lofty heights I observed the dark outlines of his wonderfully tended garden and settled for the miniature landscape of craggy rocks to my left. Hidden there I would command a full view of his study and could observe him without being seen.

Gathering the hem of my dress in my right hand, I wafted to the center of the dark mass before jumping further down its side. I was content, for I had not disturbed a single pebble. He surely had not heard me, elven hearing or not. Curling myself in, I rested on a small ledge and leaned against the hard rock on my left, gathering my legs to my right and letting the flared skirt fall freely over them.

Warm golden light streamed from my king’s study as he was sitting at his desk, reading and annotating a pile of papers. My heart went out to him. He was working so hard every day to make sure that his realm and subjects were well cared for and protected. I sighed - I wanted to kiss and gently caress his contracted brows, chase away his woes and sorrows. But remembering my uncalled station, I did not move. My eyes drank him in. He was leaning slightly forward while writing, and the subtle curve of his back only accentuated his regal posture. My master was untiringly working away while the flicker of dozens of candles lightened up his study. The thick blonde mane I loved was falling down his back, and every slight shift of his head sparked another strand of his glossy hair to gleam with lustre.

I was content. It would be many hours before I would return to my chamber, of that I was sure while I gazed at my stern lord.

After some minutes he laid aside his quill, stood up and left his study. That he was seeking out a councilor so late was unusual, but not unheard of. I determined to wait patiently for the return of my king. I had not had my fill for the night and would not leave my quiet nook till he himself would extinguish the lights to retire for the night.

~ Thranduil POV ~

I observed her from my position on top of the opposite garden wall. She had neatly folded herself in a narrow fissure, snowy hands quietly resting in her lap, legs tucked to her side. The amber of the ornament on her breast sparkled like subdued fire with the little light that found her from my study. She was looking happy and content, sitting still in the dark on a cold stone, waiting patiently for the return of her king. Her eyes glistened in the peculiar deep blue-green of a mountain lake and she never once looked away from the lit chamber. Her deep love and silent longing were so evident that it tore my heart to shreds.

How could she sit here in the cold and dark and contentedly moon over me when some six hours earlier she had brazenly invaded my study with another man behind my back? With this latest discovery I was now heaving so many conflicted feelings that I was ready to commit a blind, rash act. I would run amok.

Soundlessly, I pounced onto the mossy grass below.

You won't see me coming till I strike.

When my hands grabbed her arms like two iron cuffs and she was whisked from her perched station, she cried out with fright. No one else could surprise her thus. When she next found herself pinned to the grass, she was starting to fight for her life when she realized that her ‘attacker’ had familiar fair hair. This immediately stilled her coiling movements.

A breathy “Thranduil!” fell from her shapely lips.

I stared down at her while a perfect storm was raging in my chest.

She scrutinized my face and her intelligent eyes focused intensely on me. She blinked and her lips parted slightly, evidently surprised at what she saw.

Then she amended:

“I beg your pardon for misnaming you just now, Your Majesty. I did not recognize you at first.”

I did not acknowledge anything she had said, but I did not let her out of my sight for the fraction of a second.

My hands unceremoniously grabbed her skirt and bunched the fabric up to pool at her hip and waist. I growled when her enticing center lay bare before me. Not losing a second, I freed my throbbing member from its confines and fixed my stare back on her alluring face.

She merely exhaled when I forced her white, creamy legs apart and viciously impaled her with one brutal penetration. In a haze, I was taking her, rough and raw, not having prepared her in the least for my violent onslaught. My muscles worked tirelessly, forcefully, subduing her again and again. Throughout my merciless torment she never ceased to stroke my hair or whisper endearing terms to me. Her legs only widened in response to my exploitation and she locked her watchful eyes with mine while I took absolute possession of her. I felt myself grow within her with every thrust and continued to hit her inner core ruthlessly, over and over, with increasing strength. Cruel and brutal, I denied her any other touch and chased my own release within her, chafing her sore and raw with undying force. Yet, her own resolve never faltered.

When I roared and filled her with my hot seed, I was pouring my semen into her pulsing core in such a prolific amount that she was overflowing from what I had forced into her magnificent and stunning body. I momentarily collapsed onto her, entrapping her with my weight. Instantly her arms snaked around me, but they fell away some seconds later when she lost consciousness.

Chapter Text

~ Reader POV ~

When I slowly came to, I found myself carefully placed on a silky duvet; as always taking up only a tiny fraction of the king’s wide lair. A turn of the head told me that my ruler was again in the throes of conflicting passions, but this time he was changing from near frantic to utterly relieved when he saw that I was awake. He exhaled.

“I would have fetched Nerewyn this instant if you had continued in that deathly state”, he told me while I extended my hand to him to make my still agitated liege lie down next to me.

I felt a rosy glow creep up my cheeks which made his attention zero in on me.

“There is no need to get worked up, my king.” Drawing a deep breath and bravely continuing, I informed him:

“Although your halfling is not as graceful in receiving it as the High Ladies of yonder, I am nevertheless delighted that you have bestowed the Lord’s Present upon me.”

In my embarrassment I moved to tenderly kiss the joint of his thumb before stating, more to myself:

“I have really never thought about the fact that my husband is a High Lord and Sindar.” I shifted to smile up at him, in wonder still.

“Your name speaks true, my king. You are very vigorous.”

~ Thranduil POV ~

When she mentioned the Lord’s Present, a sheet of ice built around my chest and slit my heart. My whole body readied itself for an impending fight. When she had ended, I carefully put the question to her:

“What do you know of the Lord’s Present?” while monitoring her tiniest reaction.

She fixed her stare on my chest without actually seeing anything as I saw how her mind went back to the past.

“The first time I joined my mother in a war was during a Lothlórien campaign, my lord. I was still very young. It was the battle of the Sombre Gate. We joined Lady Galadriel’s elven army and fought under the command of Lord Elrond.”

The fist of a stone-giant pressed me down when the name had left her lips. My eyes burnt with raging fire. “Lord Elrond?” I breathed, choking.

She nodded. “Yes, my king. As you know, the fighting against the Orc hordes was vicious and lasted several weeks. Then was the first time --

that I noticed the camp followers. A lot of elven soldiers were not very discreet in claiming their services and I sometimes happened upon certain trysts when rounding a tent or large tree, not to speak of the denouement of the final victory banquet.”

“In the Keep I had read all the old elven legends and sagas, but it was only when I saw these -- activities at the Gate that I realized what was actually meant when the myths told how the High Lords of old gave their Ladies the Lord’s Present before they left them for war. I understood why the ‘Present’ left them so satisfied for days…”

She trailed off. I closed my eyes in relief as the tension left me. Lord Elrond would live…

She returned to the present and her faerie eyes suddenly sprung to mine.

“You will not leave, my lord?” she asked, the tips of her fingers pressing my chest.

“No, my love”, I assured her.

Calmed, her soft body snuggled up to me and she whispered:

“I understand the legends now. I still feel you deeply between my legs; it makes me quite lightheaded. But I don’t know - about the High Ladies feeling sated for days---”

She inhaled my scent and hummed when her cat-like tongue flicked out to taste my chest.

“---I rather find this feeling enticing when I see you.”

She was melting into my kiss when I bent down to claim her full lips.

Chapter Text

~ Reader POV ~

It had cost me great pains to convince my king that it would be best to let me attend the audience as Commander of the Arrân and part of the royal retinue. He also did not want to allow me to take my ornament off during the visit of Mithrandir, and was as stubborn as any Dwarf in arguing his point. He had snarled like a warg when I first pleaded with him. To my horror, he had something completely different in mind. He was determined to have the princess of the Arrân sit on a second throne next to him. I was determined to stand alongside him as an inconspicuous second commander, given the relatively recent development of our settlement in Eryn Lasgalen.

After a heated discussion I had finished our battle of wills by flinging myself at him, in the process informing him that I would not relent ere he had granted my request. Then I kissed my way up his neck until my mouth and tongue found the alluring bent of his right ear, to which I attended with relish. He tried to pluck me from his waist, but I held onto him like a dragon to his hoard of gold – sure in the knowledge that he would not use his full force on me for fear of hurting me, something he had consistently proven during our sparring where he had not so much as touched me any more since that very first time. I had only stopped my very eager ministrations when he flung us both on his bed and a dangerous red glint appeared in his eyes which warned me that he contemplated to devour me there instead of conducting the weekly council.

I was now standing guard to the right of the king’s throne, Tariel being my counterpart to the king’s left. Lined up along the sides of the throne room were all members of the lord’s council and the highest-ranked elven guards. To my right were Lord Edoras and all members of the Arrân council. I was clad in a jet-black tunic with the long silver shape of Líthorin my sole accessory. Thranduil was displayed on his throne in full regalia. He wore a shimmering green robe and gold-grey gown which trailed along his infinite legs in ample waves, adding to his already imposing figure. Stargazer lilies grew out of his spiked hawthorn crown and his ringed hand was leisurely playing with his ceremonial staff. Elas had welcomed the delegation on the main court and was escorting them to the throne room, along with Béarn, Commander of the Border Guards, and the presenter who now positioned himself at the opened portal to let the delegation pass. When Mithrandir had advanced to the middle of the room, the presenter announced in an all-pervading voice:

“The Maia Mithrandir, son of Ilúvatar, the Grey Pilgrim, member of the White Council, carrier of Glamloth, carrier of Narya, honoured among all Elves.”

The king stood while we bowed in unison. Mithrandir politely inclined his head before the Elven King, supporting himself on a knotted staff. He was robed in an unassuming grey cloak and had slightly curled white hair. His sweeping silver beard and great snowy brows formed a striking contrast with his watchful eyes which were set in his aged face like grey-black coals. I liked him instantly.

While listening closely to the presentations and unfolding exchange, I took the time to minutely observe Mithrandir’s companions. He was joined by two tall fighters whose dress made me assume that they were of Númenórean origins like my father – their stance unfailingly unperturbed. I smiled at that familiarity. A much smaller figure in thick boots puzzled me somewhat. I could not be sure, but from what I had read about the different realms that could only be a Hobbit from The Shire in the northwest. I frowned when I realized that he wore no weapon. Being familiar with the multitudinous accounts of Mithrandir’s travels, that was not a good way to hold onto life for long. I would gift him with a solid hunting knife at least, I decided. The last two individuals were dwarves, unmistakably. One of them was quite old and tiny – even for a dwarf. He had shiny white hair and a split white beard that was well-groomed. I liked his aura, he seemed wise and kind and around his eyes I could clearly make out the deep laugh wrinkles which testified to his sunny spirit. That one seemed safe. It was the other dwarf which worried me. He was a young and fierce warrior of strong, almost square built, armed with an exquisite dagger and a mighty battle axe. The weapon was worn from use and the heavy double-handed execution had evidently helped sever the thick neck of many Orcs. The owner seemed proud and rash, and I did not like his presence before the king. They seemed a dangerous mix.

Mithrandir was just addressing the king:

“… now that Smaug has taken over the hoard in the Mountain after the battle of Erebor, we find ourselves faced with a whole new kind of danger. Smaug’s power is a prime threat, as you know. I fear the effect of his possible alliance with Morgoth. We are talking mass destruction of all the realms of Middle Earth here.”

He eagerly continued: “I implore you to set aside your past grudges with the dwarves and ally yourself with us so that we can defeat the dragon together.”

My king, who had been infuriated by the turn of the conversation for some time, sneered at that, leaning forward on his throne. He spat: “Thror the thief merely got what was coming to him. Do not blame me for the takeover of the Mountain by the dragon. What does it matter to me if there is a dwarf or dragon sitting on the gold in Erebor? I simply reclaimed what was mine!”

At this, the dwarf at his feet hollered: “Stealing?!? We only took what was our due after you refused payment – and then you and Erathorn banished our king to hide your glaring infamy! You are a disgrace to the name of king!”

The impending explosion of my lord was halted when a searing light erupted in the hall, followed by a loud crash and the sound of splintering wood when Líthorin entrenched itself deep in the ground, one thumb’s width away from the dwarf’s toes, covering him in splinters and making him jump back. That position was much better.

My voice was cracking like a whip and cold as ice when I advanced upon him.

“The taunts of someone like you do not reach the Mighty Elven King, dwarf!”

“But I am quite willing to give you satisfaction - unless you are too cowardly to face the King’s Commander”, I baited him while coming to a halt next to Líthorin. I was looking down on the dwarf, whose eyes were glued to mine like those of everyone in the room. The Black Light which shone from them made him shudder. But he grabbed his axe tighter.

“I will kill you, monster!” he shouted.

I dislodged Líthorin with a quick movement of the hand. Its light reawakened. I exposed my sharp fangs in a wintry smile. The air froze. My voice was pure velvet:

“We will see.”

Without looking back I followed him out onto the main court.

***

When I had disarmed him four times in a row, my great anger had largely subsided and I decided that it was time to end the encounter. After the fifth time, I turned Líthorin slightly and brought the blunt side of the blade down, breaking his sword arm with vicious precision. He stilled his movement and did not attempt to retrieve the axe this time.

I stepped back, closed my eyes and exhaled. His mouth went slack when I reopened them, confirming to me that the Black Light had vanished. I turned and personally gathered up his axe, as I had strongly forbidden anyone to witness our duel. My aim had been to teach the dwarf a lesson for his unjust and hurtful accusation, not to humiliate him in front of bystanders.

“I will lead you to the infirmary wing. Our healer will have your arm fully mended come morning. I promise you: you will leave the Greenwood as strong and healthy as you came.”

He moved towards the direction I indicated to him, eyeing me suspiciously. Then his look fell to his axe in my left hand.

“Your weapon will be returned to you tomorrow morning without fail. I cannot give it back to you now because it would anger the king.”

A long pause ensued while we were walking towards the healing chambers.

Trusting my feelings, I suddenly stopped, turned to him and bowed.

“My name is Elaine. It is a pleasure to meet you. All friends of Mithrandir will always be welcome in Eryn Lasgalen. I know that your quest is honourable. Please accept my apology for my rather violent welcome just now. I hope the past between our people will not stand in the way of us becoming friends in the future.”

I smiled kindly at him.

“My father has warned me that dwarves can be stubborn, but that they are also steadfast friends, brave and kind and loyal to a fault. And that is what I believe to be true.”

Then a memory entered my mind and I continued: “And he told me that they think elves are faithless woodland sprites and behave like pointy-eared princesses. I fear I have done nothing today to change that perception!”

The dark-haired dwarf contemplated me for some time before he answered in a gruff voice:

“I am Dwinrim. I will not forget that after defeating me you nevertheless saw fit to offer me peace and friendship today. That is all I can say for now.”

Content to have got as much from him, I inclined my head before him.

“Thank you.”

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

I was growing restless when I could find her nowhere. I had not met or spoken to her any more yesterday after she had left the throne room to castigate that insufferable dwarf. The following private state dinner with insistent Mithrandir had dragged on for eons, far into the small hours of the morning when I had not wanted to disturb her any more. When I had learned from Elas’ string of whispers that she had broken the right arm of the dwarf and left him in the hands of Nerewyn, I had been quieted and we had sat down.

But when I sought her now at the time of the morning dew her suite was empty and the royal guards informed me that she had already left her private quarters in the direction of the throne room – evidently without breaking her fast first. The throne room was empty upon my arrival, however. It was only because I crossed paths with Elas again that I learned that he had seen her and Mithrandir in the wee hours of the morning, deeply engrossed in a conversation, both heading towards the outer court. When I had traversed it, it became evident that they must have gone somewhere else, for there was no one near or far. I grit my teeth in frustration.

At that moment the air carried her carefree laughter, harmonious and clear as a bell. I turned, frowning. I did not like the direction from which it was coming. After a short, determined stride which had my gown wafting behind me I had tracked them down. The princess and the Maia sat on the tilted, low stone steps of the mossy and overgrown water fountain in the sunken garden, hidden and far removed from anyone’s view. They were surrounded by the emerald green shades of low-hanging vines, ferns and twines that tangled in the thick undergrowth. The lush verdure was shot through with a myriad of rich red and yellow roses which had run wild and exuded the intoxicating scent of their matutinal blossoms. Mithrandir was telling her silly stories, it seemed, for her blue-green eyes were sparkling and shining with laughter and she was moving to rest her hand on his upper arm as she responded. She had focused all her attention on him and seemed wholly engrossed by his tales.

The long steps of my quick stride echoed on the gravel of the meandering walkway. She turned her head and stood when she saw me approaching. Mithrandir had noticed me as well. When he started to move, Elaine instantly bent down and encircled both his forearms with her small hands to assist him and help him stand. I suppressed a growl and internally cursed the powerful emissary for assuming the deceptive form of an old man. He evidently enjoyed her presence and attentions. Too much for my liking. When I had reached them, she bowed to me and Mithrandir inclined his head. I let my gaze wander over her body. She was once more clad in a simple black velvet tunic, with only Líthorin at her side.

“My lady, I was searching for you to make sure that you are well and to invite you to attend the farewell banquet for our guests which will take place shortly.”

Turning to Mithrandir, I added:

“I see you have found and monopolized the most precious jewel of Eryn Lasgalen, Mithrandir. But I warn you off: she is mine.”

The wizard smiled shrewdly as he responded, softly: “No one who was in the throne room yesterday could doubt this fact, my friend.”

At that Elaine’s cheeks were dyed in a vivid crimson and she hurriedly turned to me:

“Thank you for your concern, my king. I will join the meal if this is your wish.” She was evidently quite desirous to change the subject. I was content with her answer and we headed back to the palace.

***

After I had seen the delegation off on the steps of the main gate I watched how Elaine took her leave from each of them, moving nimbly in the cluster of figures that was assisting with the departure of the group. It did not escape my notice that she handed the Hobbit what seemed to be a sturdy hunting knife with an elaborate elven design. Then she turned to Edoras who had shadowed her. He handed her the battle axe of the confounded dwarf. The imp stared at it, same as I did, for it was not the same object he had gripped before me yesterday. Today the thick blades were sharp-edged and shimmered with the fluid glow of metal newly forged. The wooden handle was carefully oiled and the long grip was wound with new leather strips and silken threads, adding colour and vivid lustre to the hatchet. My eyes flashed when I realized this was probably her compensation for breaking his arm. An unnecessary pang of remorse. She should have taken his head instead. Then she bent down and greeted the white-haired old dwarf; both rested their right hands over their hearts for seconds. What did she do with these diminished creatures? Imperceptibly, I shook my head. Next, she smiled brightly when she bowed to the two Númenórean warriors who bent their knees before their princess. At least two of the crew knew how to honour her properly. Lastly, her feet carried her to Mithrandir, who grabbed her tiny hands in his and obviously wished her well, for she was getting all flustered again. My heart stopped when she stood on her tiptoes and affectionately kissed his cheek, at which he smiled. I was not sure whether I would ever allow him to enter Eryn Lasgalen again. While he mounted his horse, she wound her way back to the steps and I moved her to my side at a moment when she was off guard. Ornament or not, that was her place, now and forever.

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

“A royal audience for the Arrân council that you will lead, tomorrow evening?” I repeated her request, my mind invariably wandering back to the hateful incident with that cursed dwarf during the royal audience two weeks ago. I stared down at her slight frame with knitted eyebrows and scrutinized her raised face while she was watching out for my reaction.

“What for?”

Her speckled eyes immediately evaded me while her upper body shifted back a tiny fraction and her hands interlocked in front of her. That she was sealing herself off from me in this matter frustrated me immensely. Her escapade with my sword was still sticking in my side like a thorn and now that she finally approached what I suspected had to do with that incident, she refused to answer me clearly.

“I cannot tell you beforehand, my lord. But it is an important matter for all the Arrân and for me.”

I would not have it and shook my head gravely while straightening my body to full height.

“Elaine, this is childish. You cannot expect me to assemble both councils before me without knowing what it is about. This is non-negotiable, and I tell you this as your king.”

She had evidently expected as much, for she was in no way put off by my answer. This reassured me somewhat, for it was in line with her usual superior understanding. I waited for her response while she debated with herself which path best to pursue.

Her eyes flicked while she was thinking and she peeked up at me, her palms pressing together.

“Would it be sufficient if I assure you that no request will be put before you in the course of the audience and that nothing untoward or unpleasant will happen or result from it?”

I exhaled sharply. That limited the possible negative fallout indeed massively, but I would still much rather she told me point blank what this whole matter was about. I turned, thinking her specifics over.

“Does the audience have in any way to do with how the Arrân generate their income or conduct their trade?” I asked, only showing her my profile.

She was quick to consider this question and sure in her answer.

“No, my lord.”

That was quieting one part of my misgivings. I continued.

“Does it have to do with the security of the Arrân?”

She tilted her head, mulling over this question.

“In a way, my lord.” She nodded in the affirmative.

“Will you receive us on that basis?” she asked, hopeful.

I groaned. But I decided that I would go ahead with it, finally needing to know what she was hiding from me. Her broad description warned me enough what to expect and her earlier assurance calmed me as to their intentions. I would deal with the rest time come. They could have their audience. I nodded.

“By all means, yes. I will do this only once, however, Elaine. Be advised: it will not happen again.”

On hearing my words, her whole appearance changed. She was radiating such happiness and joyful anticipation that my breath stalled when her gaze locked with mine. Pulsing starlight magnified her slender physique as her smile warmed me. She was very pleased when she sank into a low courtesy in front of me.

“Thank you, my king. I am most grateful.”

***

I was once more sitting on my throne, this time with Elas to my right and Tariel to my left. The lord’s council was present in its entirety; my advisors were spread along the high glass doors and around the council table on my left. The subdued murmur ceased when the presenter entered and took up station next to the open portal. Once more his voice sounded loud and clear:

“The lady Elaine, princess of the Arrân, daughter of Lady Aléonor, daughter of Lord Theoca, carrier of Líthorin, bearer of the Dark Light, protector of Eryn Lasgalen.”

The group which advanced towards me was not numerous, but certainly impressive. They were clad in black and silver and everyone carried a splendid sword by their side; all were fully girded for battle. Elaine was leading them, clad in a sweeping black brocade gown held together by her silver clasp and a magnificent dress of the same fabric. She was wearing Líthorin as usual. While my exterior remained cold and impassive my gaze was attracted by the tight silver belt that wound around her slender waistline. It was executed so splendidly that the plethora of silver threads formed a thick, unevenly raised surface that echoed the bark of a tree. The glossy sheen of the metal shimmered with her every move. I immediately visualized how later my two hands would fully encircle her wasp waist and I would have her splayed out on my bed wearing that dress. Holding her middle in my grasp, that silver belt would move before me, in unison with every forceful thrust of my loins.

Her party had lined up. Edoras stood behind her, a giant shadow due to their height difference. The rest of the Arrân lords was evenly distributed in the hall and standing absolutely motionless, their body control attesting to their excellent training as warriors. I locked eyes with her. She returned a look that was frank and assured. I expected them to bow next, but Elaine surprised me. Instead, the Arrân remained standing and moved in line with Elaine when all drew their swords and fell into their respective fighting stances. The warm light of Líthorin woke when her hand touched the hilt of the long elven sword. She had it unsheathed in a barely discernible swift motion, bringing it down to her right, her arm and the sword forming an unbroken straight line. Her feet slightly offset, she had assumed the familiar appearance of a weightless dancer I knew from our weekly sparring sessions. Edoras had simultaneously drawn an enormous two-handed broadsword which he held upright, next to his head, poised to behead a pack of Orcs. Two steps behind him one of the lords had moved his sword arm upwards and was grabbing the hilt of the sword positioned across his back, while another had rotated his torso to the left and gripped his sword with both hands, tip pointing to the rear, ready for a deadly upward swing.

Having collectively assumed first position, they had all stilled again. None of the elven lords had so much as batted an eyelash at their display and Tariel stood next to me, as laid back as when the Arrân had first come in. I was obviously not the only one in the room who trusted her deeply, and this non-reaction after they had collectively drawn weapons before the Elven King was an attestation to her character and her victory. We continued to observe.

Again they moved in harmony and took their cue from Elaine, who had imperceptibly shifted her weight and now performed a semicircular backwards move with her right foot. It brought her to a kneeling position which all Arrân assumed with her. They then moved their swords in front of their bodies, hilt in the right, blade placed on their left wrist. Kneeling, they presented their horizontally aligned swords to me.

Now she spoke:

“My king, the Arrân come before you today to collectively swear allegiance to you. You have not only given us shelter in Eryn Lasgalen. You have given us a home. Every man and every family have found food and housing in your realm, and here we are free to pursue our craft to the best of our understanding. We will thus work tirelessly where we can live without fear and anxiety. Today we swear to protect and defend our new home with our blood and to the last man. No harm shall come to the Greenwood if we can frustrate it. Today is also the day for us to express our deep gratitude. We ask you to accept our humble present and beg for your magnanimity by overlooking its defects, for even if it may be badly executed, it was done with the best intentions. To honour you and your reign, my king.”

At that, they all resheathed their swords and stood up. Líthorin’s light vanished. Several blacksmiths had entered the throne room after her words and were now depositing a large object on the council table. It was wrapped in black velvet and almost as long as the width of the massive table. I stood also and handed my staff to Elas before gliding down the throne.

I stopped in front of her and offered her my right arm, which she adorned with her small hand after a brief moment of hesitation. With her by my side I slowly advanced towards the covered object and silently contemplated the wrapping. The velvet cloth was bulged at different points, but the pattern was so irregular that I could not guess what object might be hidden under its confines. Elas had now rejoined us and stood to my left. At my signal, he moved to remove the cloth, aided by the Arrân blacksmiths.

What was revealed was a massive coat of arms. From top to bottom, it was composed of three layers. First, a stylized stag’s head, complete with protruding antlers - the clasp on Elaine’s breast to my right obviously its model. This was set on a shield blazon which functioned as its carrier. Shield and stag were wrought from pure silver and I shuddered to think what other precious object must have vanished from Elaine’s few inherited possessions to purchase the raw material needed to forge this sumptuous allegory.

“You are too modest, princess”, I responded as my fingers expertly trailed the winding and twisting antlers. “The execution is flawless. This is a masterpiece of a quality I have not seen for a long, long time.

Your blacksmiths are obviously so skilled that they can rival with the best goldsmiths.”

Next, my attention was gripped by the third part of the offering: mounted behind the shield blazon were what I would have thought to be my crossed twin swords had I not known about her intrusion into my study weeks earlier. I stepped forward while a blacksmith dislodged one of the swords and handed it to me for closer inspection. I took my time.

Finally I turned my head to fully look at the petite woman next to me. Her cheeks were on fire.

“These are identical copies?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yes, my king”, before she continued: “There might be slight discrepancies, though. The design of your twins is very intricate, my lord. It was hard to replicate the point of balance with precision.” When she continued, it was scarcely audible: “As had to be expected, it was positioned most unusual on the original due to the exceptional strength and needs of the wielder. We only got the balance right on the third attempt.”

I refocused my attention to the sword in my hand.

“I do not think there are any deviations. As far as I am concerned, I feel comforted to know that I am now in possession of two sets of swords. There is no discernable difference.”

I handed the sword back to the blacksmith who added it back to the coat of arms. Contemplating the work of art before me, I mused:

“I would say this would be a welcome addition in the Great Hall. The next Moonlight Festival should take place below it. And the new Ambassadors from Lothlórien and Rivendell will also be able to contemplate its splendor there.”

Elas bowed as sign that he would execute my wish.

I turned to Elaine and the Arrân council.

“I am most pleased with this present, which I cherish and count among the most prized of my possessions.”

The lords bowed in return.

“But I am even more content to have the Arrân as part of my court. I pledge myself to you in return, with the best intentions to be a just and righteous ruler for all my subjects, old or new.”

At that, Elaine curtsied before me.

“Thank you, my king, for your great kindness.”

When I had inclined my head towards her, she retreated and then turned to lead the Arrân out the throne room. I informed the remaining elves:

“Anyone who might want to fraternize with the Arrân this evening shall find that wine will not be lacking.”

At that, I left the throne room for my private study. I would accord her half an hour with her friends before sending for her.

Chapter Text

~Thranduil POV~

When she entered my study, I was standing with my back to her, looking out into the darkening autumnal garden. Her usual greeting was barely audible:

“My king.”

When I turned I was pleased to see that she was still wrapped in that magnificent dress. But that was not the first topic I planned to discuss with my lady tonight. When I was about to stroll towards her I noticed that she was still firmly rooted next to the door, conspicuously so, perfectly motionless, head bent down and hands clasped. I turned around again.

“You may advance, my lady.”

Hesitatingly, she left the entrance area which afforded her the only sure means of escape. I waited till the little shadow had cautiously glided to my side while I continued to watch how the rays of the sun outside lost their last strength. After some time had elapsed, I casually mentioned:

“So the Arrân blacksmiths have gained access to the particulars of the build and design of the swords which I always keep inside this study. My private study. I wonder how that was possible.”

Her whole body shrunk even more. When I slowly turned to her, she had curled herself in in that peculiar way of hers and she was steadily backing away from me. At last, she whispered: “I am sorry, my king.”

My arm snaked forward before she had reached the distance which would have allowed her to flee me. I pulled her back determinedly.

“Your remorse now counts for nothing, my lady. I want to know what happened. And precisely.”

She was so terrified that the very second my hand let go of her arm she started to move back again. But she forced herself to whisper simultaneously:

“Three weeks ago, I entered your study, my lord. I was accompanied ---

She swallowed, unable to continue at present. I slowly followed her in the same measure she shied away from me, her hands now raised in a defensive gesture, her eyes never venturing near me. I was not sure whether she was at all cognizant of her retreating movements.

--- by our master blacksmith. I took one of your swords from your coffer.”

Her hands were shaking now, her face had turned deathly pale, eyes unseeing. She sounded choked.

“We were measuring the weapon to be sure that we had all the details we needed to replicate it for the coat of arms. ---”

She receded further, her shaking intensified visibly, it reached her knees. Her voice was coarse when she continued:

“--- I placed your sword back afterwards. I did not touch anything else. He left from my study, so that nobody would suspect ---”

She swallowed again as if desperately trying to free herself from something stuck in her throat. Her breathing had accelerated, beads of sweat formed on her brow. I called her name and gripped her arm, but she did not see or hear.

“--- that we had entered your chamber.”

“I am so sorry, my lord.”

She was bending over, gasping for breath and shaking. I caught her when she fell and cradled her limp and lifeless body in my arms. I was deeply shocked at the speed and intensity of the breakdown I had just witnessed. Her torso in my hands was not moving any more, her arm hung down at an odd angle and her head was bent back dangerously, pulled down by the weight of her long black hair. She was white as death and her closed eyes were ringed with dark circles.

Staring down at her, I suddenly had the vision of her corpse in my arm. With an anguished cry that held nothing human I grabbed her close to me and rushed to the healers.

***

I had been sitting at her bed all night after Nerewyn had tended to her. I had refused to leave and was keeping her still, lifeless hand safely in mine as if the touch could bind her to me. The room was filled with the scent of cedars and oranges to help her breathe. Her delicate body was lying forlorn under the thick layer of the blanket. The deeply distressed air had never left her face since I brought her here. Her deep worry lines spoke of a black despair and despondency within her that had reawakened dark memories in me, of elves fading, slowly wasting in grief.

I silently prayed for her to live, to come back to me.

I never released her slender hand.

The greying of the sky outside announced the coming of the morning, but it was not the bright light of the sun I craved. I longed for the warming glow of my starlight which shimmered like a magical crystal. Her deep love that she gave away so freely.

My eyes snapped to her face when I felt the light tremor of her fingers. I could see her eyes move under her still closed eyelids. After a moment, she opened them.

It took an instant for her to familiarize herself with her surroundings.

Feeling another presence, she turned and took me in. I leaned forward and gently stroked her hair before cupping the side of her face, breathing her name.

She surveyed my face, surprised to find me by her side.

“My king”, she whispered, “you have not left.”

Her eyes flicked between mine, unsure of what to expect. My thumb stroked her hand.

“Have I frightened you?” I asked.

Unbeknownst to her two tears escaped along her long eyelashes.

“I was so frightened you would not forgive me for deceiving you. That you would chase me away. That I would lose you.”

I heaved a shuddering sigh.

“Elaine, do you really think I would chase you away for trying to surprise me with a magnificent gift?”

Another tear left a trail on her white cheek.

“I feared you would leave me, like my parents.”

Her whole body convulsed when she ached in pain before she curled herself in protectively, hiding from my view.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and gathered her in my arms, keeping her safe. She rested on my chest and feebly drew her breath. Stroking her back, I sat there for a long time, soothing her.

Little by little, she calmed down. I moved to lie on the bed.

“You should sleep and rest for a while”, I murmured when I moved her petite body half on top of mine in the way she had done so often in her sleep. “I will stay here and wait until you wake again. You must gather new strength, my love. I will stay here, with you.”

At that, I felt how her exhausted form relaxed into my warmth and how her supple body naturally fit with mine when she nestled into my hold. A short time later, sleep had joined her, and all tension left her body.

***

For the next three days, I worked from my study, where I could monitor her while she was resting in my bed. She was very feeble at first, for the event had broken all her usual strength. The first two nights she awoke from nightmares. When Haldir had come into the study on the first morning to hand me the daily pile of reports, it had startled her so that she had grabbed Líthorin and fled into the garden - I had to use all my persuasive powers to stop her from escaping further into the nearby forest and to convince her to come back with me.

Gradually, her strength came back and her light reappeared steadily, for which I thanked the Valar. Her resilience was truly formidable. When I stepped outside to join her on the third day, a pleasant evening had superseded the sniping wind of the day. She had heard me coming and moved nimbly to press her fine body flush onto mine, wrapping her arms around me.

“Thank you, my king, for holding onto me.”

I kissed the crown of her head.

“I will never leave you, and I will never let you leave me either, my love.”

Chapter Text

~ Reader POV ~

I was in the middle of a heated sparring session with one of my younger lords. He was a worthy adversary because of his considerable speed and the excellent technique and focus of his swings. I knew that he did very well in the joint human-elven exercises and it was a true pleasure to provide him with more opportunity for practice. The impact of his blows on Líthorin was considerable. We thrusted and parried in quick succession, moving backwards and lunging forwards swiftly, following a peculiar, lethal dance.

Suddenly, behind my right a woman’s hysteric voice split through our training:

“Princess, Haleth has disappeared! He and his friend have gone to the cloud waterfalls!”

When her words had registered, I was so shocked that my mind went blank for a split second and my knees felt weak, causing my grip on Líthorin to lessen while my adversary’s sword broke through my stalled defense, his strike impacting fully on my left hip bone, drawing blood and leaving a trail of torn skin along my torso. I did not even register the hit and pain when I whirled around.

“Since when?”

The usually calm and imperturbable woman cried and sobbed.

“I discovered it just now, but they must have left an hour ago already.”

My blazing, blackened eyes snapped to my training partner. My voice was steel:

“I need four guards at the waterfalls immediately to move them from there. Then ask the king’s permission for an additional unit as backup. We do not know how many spiders will be there.”

I turned around without waiting for any response and flew to the main court, Líthorin drawn in my right. When I dashed into the court, an elven guard was just entering it, headed towards the stables. I was bearing down on the rider and merely shouted:

“Your horse, now!”

When he saw my set face and black eyes, he dismounted swiftly. A second later I was tearing through the main gate like the wind.

~ Thranduil POV ~

I roared like a wounded lion when the man had found me.

Tariel led the galloping unit behind me. My cloak billowed wildly as I urged my Elk to full speed. The thundering sound of its hooves burst through the forest and its long stride broke any obstacle like glass. I was furious and growled darkly as I cursed her for her unfathomable recklessness. Throwing herself unescorted into a huge nest of spiders was pure madness and did nothing to remedy the dire situation.

That folly could cost her life.

Unbidden, the image of her pale, lifeless form in my arms materialized in front of my eyes.

I set my teeth. She would pay for this. I would make sure that she could never put herself at risk like that again.

If I found her alive…

As I was nearing the spot, I had caught up with the four galloping guards which had left the palace immediately after Elaine on her orders. The next sight made me take a deep breath. A spider carcass lay by the wayside, testifying to Elaine’s earlier presence: she had slain it so viciously, with such brutality and impatience that instead of beheading the beast, she had slit it through horizontally. The quinine shell had slipped down sideways while the gore and poison dripped over the bottom part and its contorted spindly legs.

I took the lead for the remaining way and dismounted in haste when the path had become too narrow to ride. Both swords drawn, I tore through the dense forest and undergrowth as did lightning in a tempest.

When I finally sped out on the elevated plateau next to the waterfall, I saw her immediately – as well as the four spiders that were surrounding and closing in on her in a coordinated, quickly tightening circle. Her straight figure was guarding a large boulder with outstretched sword, eyes blazing defiantly in the blackest of lights. The wind pulled her long hair behind her. She did not move an inch although one spider who had been crawling along a branch over her was now hovering directly above her head, while the other three were advancing in unison from the front, closing in on her and trapping her in front of the rock.

Under normal circumstances even four spiders would not be a match for her superior speed and agility and the long range which Líthorin afforded her. But my blood froze when I realized that she would not move a fraction from her present guarding position. The vile beasts had sensed as much. Constricted like this she could at best kill three of them before the fourth would get through to her. She had obviously decided that she would use the ten seconds she would remain standing after the creature had bitten her to kill the fourth – and to go down with it.

I decided against it.

She had never acknowledged my presence on the plain but I knew that she was aware of my precise position at every moment. When I roared and hurled my sword at the spider headmost to me, she started in perfect unison and shot up, slicing the spider’s head above her in two with deadly beauty, then twisting her torso she landed on her hand and feet and tore Líthorin through the two spiders in front of her with one vicious move, slicing them through levelly. The one furthest to her left buckled with one of my twins lodged deep in its side. Taught to take no risks, Elaine severed its fanged head with another swing of her glowing sword.

While I advanced towards her, she observed her surroundings carefully. For now no more spiders were hiding in the trees and bushes. Exhaling, she closed her eyes and reopened them, revealing their usual bottomless blue-green which put the turquoise waterfall next her to shame. When I reached her, she had turned around and knelt before the cragged grey boulder. My fighter was cooing like a dove as two tiny, crying figures barreled into her outstretched arms. I took a deep breath when I contemplated the prostrate group at my feet.

When the four guards had reached us, I left her side to dislodge my sword from the gory carcass. Escorted by two front and rear guards, Elaine held Haleth and the little elf in her arms while I moved at her side, shielding her with my swords in a tight grip.

***

I had placed her safely in the center of the elven unit and rode close to her. She continued to soothe the distressed and frightened boys in her lap: “It’s all right, my love, don’t cry any more. We were just concerned because of the spiders. I’m not angry. You are safe now.”

When they had calmed down after a while, she stroked their heads and talked to them again, earnestly: “You must promise me never to do such a reckless thing again, going into the woods alone. It is too dangerous with those nests of spiders appearing in the Greenwood. Will you promise me that you will always go with an adult when you leave the palace?”

The two sniveling figures nodded. She was gently calming them and murmured: “There, there, everything is all right now. Look, we are nearing the palace gates.”

She handed the tall elf to its mother and the blonde boy to the woman I had seen during the elven feast. Both were crying and sobbing and pressing the children desperately to their chests, never to let go of them again.

When the little ones were securely deposited, I merely ordered:

“You will come with me, princess”, before turning in the direction of my study. She was following me dutifully.

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

When she had set one foot in the room, she yelped as I whirled her around and smashed her into the wall, pinning her tightly above ground. My fury was wrought to its highest.

“How could you be so reckless?!? ”, I yelled. “You would have D I E D today if I had arrived a second later!”

She said nothing and merely watched me acquiescently while I poured the overflowing vessel of my wrath over her.

“Do not think that I will let this slide”, I hissed.

“You are forbidden to leave the palace from now on unless I have consented to it in person.”

I seethed.

“From the moment you step out of this door, you will be accompanied by two of my guards. Always. Everywhere. You will have Líthorin by your side at all times.”

I was moving further into her space and glowering at her, eyes aflame. She registered my sharp teeth when I continued, dangerously:

“I warn you, Elaine. If you defy me once in anything I have just mentioned, I will personally chain you to my bed and keep you there.”

My stare pierced her.

“Have I made myself clear, princess?”

She nodded immediately, submissive and docile.

“Yes, my king.”

I exhaled and closed my eyes, blinded by the inner force of my wrath. She was careful not to move when I reopened them and fixed my stare at her again.

With a dark growl, I disconnected my weightless quarry from the wall and hauled her to my bed, keeping her feathery shape always above ground, tightly fixated in my lacerating claw.

I pinioned her on my bed, caging her soft form below my overtowering body. My primal instinct had completely taken over when I ripped open the neckline of her doublet and forcefully bit into her neck and shoulder, leaving deep teeth marks on her beguiling flesh. She groaned and shivered at every bite. Her scent wafted in my throat and nostrils and I lost all control. Burying my head deep in her exposed cleavage, I voluptuously licked along the hard, bony valley between her soft breasts. My movement was torturingly slow and she whimpered and sobbed below me. I splayed my hand over her stomach and hip and pressed her into my sheets. With a wolfish appetite, I slanted my head and splayed my wide tongue over her left breast, carefully wetting her entire supple mound and finally pressing her hard, erect nipple down with an ardent swipe of the tip of my tongue. Aroused, I groaned heatedly while she could not suppress a shiver and quiet moan. The delicious sound made the hair on my neck stand up and I dug my fingernails into her side.

I stared down at my helpless prey. “I will make you moan and beg all night”, I hissed hoarsely.

Without warning, I ripped her doublet in two. Small scraps of fabric danced in the rays of setting sunlight as she was stripped to the waist before me. My greedy gaze wandered down her naked torso.

My eyes widened and I convulsed when I saw the defacement. A deep gash and ugly swollen blue-black mark disfigured her left hip and I suspected her hip bone had been lacerated. The glaring red welt of a fresh wound stretched all across her body, belittling and deriding me. Incredulous, my eyes snapped from the bloodied and torn cut to her face. She had at first not realized the reason for my abrupt interruption. When she remembered and understanding hit her, she hurried to gather the ripped cloth together with one hand and twisted her waist to escape and hide from my view.

My hands whacked her wrists down. She had her head turned to the side, eyes squeezed tightly shut in anticipation of my explosion. She did not have to wait long.

“WHO DID THIS?” I roared.

“Who has injured you like this? That is no light bruise!”

I screamed at her.

“Who has dared to injure my wife like this???”

I was heaving with white-hot anger as I stared down at the disfiguring red and black mark on my wife’s creamy-white body.

“One of my subjects must have a death wish! This was done forcefully with a blunted blade!”

“Who did it???”

~ Elaine POV ~

When I remembered the injury across my abdomen, I tried to twist and squirm out of his clasp, but it was no use – he pinned me down and I braced myself for the impact of his newly ignited blazing wrath. In his present state he was perfectly capable to take matters in his own hand if I gave him the information he demanded.

I knew that in deep distress he would sometimes take me, my body his property and secret altar where he offered his overwhelming love up as sacrifice. Our union somehow seemed to heal him. I also fully understood that today he needed to bodily ascertain my physical integrity – and his complete mastery over me. I inwardly cursed this morning’s inattentiveness which had caused my injury. In his eyes it desecrated the altar he worshipped and adored. That someone other than him had touched me, worse, had marked my body and his most treasured property shook him to the core. I could as well have shoved my dagger between his second and third rib. After today’s events at the waterfalls which had brought back the terrible memory of his first wife’s death the ugly presence of this bloody injury would make it near impossible to calm him down.

He was furious.

But I had to try to at least soothe him somewhat – for his own sake and for the very life of my subject which was at stake now.

I glanced up at him when he held sway over me, foaming with blind, murderous rage. My hand splayed over his heaving chest when my gaze locked with his.

“My king”, I pleaded with a soft low voice, “it was my own carelessness.”

He bawled exasperated.

“When I heard the boys were gone I was shocked. I froze and got hit during the sparring with the Arrân. It was my own fault, my lord. Please, my king.” I pleaded. “Do not be angry.”

Blonde Fury loomed over me. The storm on his brow contracted when his broad chest pressed against my stroking hand.

“You will train with no one but me from now on!” he boomed.

I nodded instantly.

“And you will order that confounded clumsy human from court immediately! He will not return so long as you have not healed!”

He eyed me dangerously and hissed:

“If he dares to return while your body still looks like this I swear to you by the Valar I will put him to my sword instead!”

Again I nodded immediately. My hand rubbed soothing circles on his chest.

“He will leave, my lord. I will only train with you.”

The full weight of his body smothered me when he bent down with a stern growl and bared teeth. His right hand tightly gripped my jaw when he claimed my mouth, inexorably invading and conquering. I was panting and gasping under him when he confirmed his dominion. I was silently whimpering from his blazing touches and my growing need when he ravaged me determinedly. When his loins suddenly bucked into me, I trembled under his force and size like an aspen leaf. Coherent thoughts fled me under the untamed dominance of my lord.

His eyes darkened when he sensed my shuddering tremor. In an instant he adjusted his position and splayed my unresisting legs. Then his loins started to ground rhythmically into my center, grating my twitching middle - and my mind. His power and strength were ever increasing. Frantic, I bit my hand to stifle distraught moans while tossing and turning my head under his torture. Sobbing in desperation, I squeezed my eyes shut. He never stopped and continued to press out my moisture, his dark voice urging me to come for him. I whimpered and begged, completely overwhelmed, while my shaking hands moved to scratch his steeled chest, then desperately clung to his tunic. He sucked away my soft, wretched mewls. His strong muscles continued to mercilessly till my wetted soil. When I finally gasped and multiple waves crashed over me, I tensed and shook erratically. A choked and strangled noise escaped from between my swollen lips.

Thranduil only stilled his movements after he had fully ridden me out.

I gasped and fell back into the cushions. When I had regained my breath, I turned my head and stared up at his obscene and domineering leer, utterly incredulous. My gaze flicked down.

“We are both still dressed” I whispered in agony, reeling that he had just made me come violently while we were both still fully clothed below the waist. His diabolical smirk intensified and his slit eyes showed a red lode of molten lava when he bent down to whisper in my ear:

“I wanted to prepare you before forcing my Present upon you this time.”

Chapter Text

~ Reader POV ~

I developed a surprising amount of creativity during the next days when “meeting” my lord.

The first evening I had evaded his imperious grasp and fled him, causing him to chase me through his suite into his private bath where I tore directly into his hot spring, ruining my wonderful white dress in the process. He was visibly incensed when his long arms had finally captured me dripping wet in the middle of the pool and he was not idle in claiming the winner’s first prize on the spot.

The second day I surprised him by sneaking into his study earlier than he had called me for, while he was still working at his desk. I had donned a knee-length midnight blue dress with sparkling black gemstones in the hope of capturing his attention. After I had snuck into his study, I made straight for him. When he wanted to get up, I pushed him back on his upholstered chair and determinedly swung my leg over him, straddling his legs between mine. My cheeks burned later when I remembered how wantonly I had kissed and ridden my king, shamelessly taking advantage of my small size which fit so neatly onto his seated frame on the cushioned stool. I had successfully hindered him from undressing my torso by licking and sucking his sensitive ears while his swollen and throbbing member pierced me from below with increasing speed. He delved into my core with every rolling of my hips. The feeling of him lodged so incredibly deep inside me had me shivering and I was truly grateful that he had tightly gripped my hips and taken over full control before we both collapsed into each other’s arms, heaving and disoriented.

The third night I had not expected him to join me, for I knew that a Rivendell messenger had arrived and that he would usually consult with him far into the early hours of the morning. But I was mistaken. After two hours my king had adjourned the meeting for the next day. When my tall husband entered my bedroom unexpectedly, I was once more struck by his breathtaking beauty. His blonde mane underscored his outstanding presence as always and I positively stared at his shapely torso and infinite muscular legs, for he was clad in black silk damask today. The precious textile was interwoven with shimmering threads of gold and wonderfully adorned his alluring figure. His erect port spoke of the self-assured pursuit of his present goal. Not tired in the least, his silver-blue eyes zeroed in on me as soon as his elongated steps had entered my sleeping room. It was obvious that he was planning to emphatically claim his conjugal rights tonight and I had to think on my feet as he prowled towards me. When he had reached me, I had already stripped and re-hidden my naked form under the splendorous red blankets of my bed, quickly scooting to the far side of the bed while he divested himself of his clothes. When he entered the bed and moved below the covers, I approached him, then quickly turned around and snuggled my backside flush against his front, fanning his insatiable desire. He groaned with lust and I guided his straying hands between my legs and up to my breasts while he bit my neck. I whimpered when shortly after he entered me forcefully from behind and fully mastered me.

When I woke in the morning, my head was placed comfortably on the crook of his right arm, the knuckles of my hands connecting with his right midriff. I blinked, then realized that the covers had slipped down to the level of his hips during the night, so I imperceptibly slid down the bed and also angled for the blanket, pulling it up a bit.

At the moment I settled my head into the bend of my own arm, his deep velvety voice sounded:

“You do not want me to see it.”

Not needing him to clarify in the least what he was referring to, I merely rolled myself up and determinedly shook my head.

Wrenching a surprised whoop from me, he effortlessly lifted me and moved me so that my torso was hovering over his chest, where he simply deposited me so that I was once more partially lying on top of my lord. I placed my chin on his sternum, looking up at him and pressing my hips flush on his body as a precautionary measure, not caring a bit that in this way I must needs look like his personal submissive lapdog.

He seemed amused.

“My king, it is embarrassing when you move me around like this!” I complained, tapping his left ribcage with my index finger.

His eyebrows shot up.

“Oh?”

When I inhaled to elucidate, he squarely cut me off:

“I will have to do it more often then.”

I knit my brows and like a hedgehog bristled at my lord, still perched atop his chest. But I knew better than to let myself be provoked by him now – I had no means to flee him at the moment. He knew it and relished his triumph. I would take revenge later when I was fully healed and the sight of my naked body could not incense him any more.

Deciding that it was best to change the subject, I placed my cheek to rest on his warm, gently moving chest.

“I have never told you about Haleth, my lord”, I started.

He listened carefully without interrupting me.

“He is 4 ½ years old now and he has lost his parents when he was three. They died in a fire which broke out in the street next to the Keep. His father was a baker, but Haleth was often straying off, fencing with the children in the Keep using wooden hazel sticks. His mother already knew that the first place to look for him when he had absconded was within our walls. He was a real charmer and quite fascinated by our soldiers and the guards. I sometimes sparred with the little mob.”

I smiled at the memory.

“He was playing with his friends when the fire broke out. It spread so quickly that morning that many people perished in the flames. His parents among them. All the houses in the narrow lane were made mostly from wood, it was a horrible sight. My parents decided that we would adopt him so that he could grow up with the Arrân and become a guard later if that was still his wish. His Naneth is his foster mother, they are not related.”

I stared into the room, unseeing.

“He is so young and has already suffered so much. But he is very strong. And so brave. He conquers life and starts from scratch every day.” I turned my head again to look up at my king.

“I could not wait a second, my lord”, I whispered. “I love him, and had to protect him. The thought that he could be harmed was unbearable.”

He involuntarily closed his arms around me, verifying through touch that I was near and breathing.

“I can just as little bear the thought of losing you, Elaine”, he rasped. “Never make me fear like that again.”

I felt the agonized intake of breath in the powerful body below me.

“I am sorry, my lord”, I whispered.

***

When I snuck into Edoras’ kitchen unannounced two weeks later, it was just before lunchtime. In the midst of his preparation he acknowledged my presence merely with a nod and placed another plate. When he had carefully maneouvred the cooking pot with the thick stew on the table some minutes later, his eyes caught two unmoving shadows on both sides of his door. His gaze flicked to my face and his voice was surprised:

“He is still angry?”

My shoulders slumped in defeat and I groaned in my lap. He laughed his good-humoured laugh and patted my shoulder while serving me.

“Now, now, it’s too early to give up yet. He will come round. Even the Great Elven King will realize in time that it doesn’t make much sense to have the best fighter of the Greenwood constantly guarded by two sentinels.”

I merely shook my head, depressed.

“I am not so sure.”

I looked at him.

“You should have seen him yesterday. I was outside when he came into my study. When he did not find me in my suite and had not noticed me in the garden, he was frantic. He flung open the door and shouted at the startled guards.”

“I think his “Where is she???” was heard all across the Greenwood. When I ran and called to him, he hugged me so violently I couldn’t breathe. I think I still am an inch flatter now.”

He laughed at my dejected voice. I looked at him, pleadingly.

“It has been more than two weeks now and he was still so affected. Edoras, he is hurting so much. He was livid from fear.”

He turned serious.

“Elaine, you know how his first wife died and how he has suffered. You knew this yet you accepted him. I am telling you nothing new when I say that he will never be able to tolerate your right to put yourself in danger which results from your station as the sovereign princess of the Arrân. He can do everything else but he cannot do this.”

My old friend sighed and glanced at me.

“And I cannot blame him, to be honest. I love you like a father, Elaine, and I am still reeling from your adventure. And he knows exactly what you were up to with those spiders. If I could, I’d love to wrap you up in cotton wool. But I can’t. The difference is, he is your husband and king, Elaine. He can and will, especially if something like this ever happens again.”

I lowered my head, crestfallen. He stroked my hair.

“But as is so often the case, Elaine, there is no other solution to this problem than to talk to him. You must find a compromise together, darling. Don’t be so discouraged - I don’t think that he can stand it long to see you so dejected either. Just give him some more time.”

I sighed again.

After a second, he folded his arms and looked at me, knowingly.

“Where exactly were you, in the garden?”

My head slumped onto my arms. My voice was muffled when I responded:

“I was hidden on a branch in the middle of the leafy cherry tree. I wanted to be alone.”

The fearsome Rohanese warrior snickered.

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

I was surprised that Lord Edoras had at short notice requested to speak me in private as I was just about to leave for the inspection of the Western border with Béarn after the usual morning assembly had come to a close. I had the guard admit him into the throne room immediately. The Rohanese lord was always reserved and not a man of many words, but when he had something to say, it was invariably worth listening. That he wanted to speak to me suddenly had me riveted, albeit not in a good way. I could not see why he would not approach Elaine with any request he might have or come as usual in tandem with her – unless it had something to do with her.

The tall lord approached and bowed to me. His demeanor was purposeful and calm.

“My king, have you seen the princess today?” he asked.

I answered to the negative, fixing my stare on him. He had foreseen this answer as he was nodding his head.

“I expected as much, my lord. She was never eager to stand out – or ask for help for that matter.”

The ghost of a smile flitted across my face. This was a characterization of my love that I could relate to.

He proceeded:

“My lord, I have come because I think it my duty to tell you that for Elaine, today is a special day.” A shadow fell over his eyes.

“Her parents were married today and the anniversary was always celebrated by the royal family. This day last year for the last time.”

Devastated by his words, I was running my hand over my face before I looked up again.

“Those were very joyful occasions, my king. My lord and lady would ride out with her, or have a picnic at the lake. It was one of the few days where family would take precedence over any other matter.”

“I know that she would never have told you this herself, but I think you have a right to know as her husband. She will need you today, my lord.”

I had already gotten up and shortly pressed his shoulder before I exited the hall.

“Today’s ride is adjourned” was all I directed at the guard on duty before I proceeded in the direction of her study. When I reached the corridor, her two sentinels were still positioned outside her door. I entered.

There was no sign of her in her private chambers and I immediately headed towards the far wall of her garden, jumping up the small distance. Looking for clues as to the direction she had taken, I followed an intermittent trail which brought me into the penumbra of the nearby forest. Continuing on, I finally rounded the protruding earthen cluster of roots of an uprooted tree. The fall of the colossus during the first autumn storm had created a sharp dip in the ground, now filled with dry, dead leaves. Infrequent high-pitched sounds from its dark depths had guided me to my destination for some time.

Without stopping, I knelt and unearthed the huddled frame of my wife. What I then held in my arms was a true forest spirit: Her tunic was covered with the dark black and brown tones of the rich woodland soil and spiky twigs and a loose collection of marbled leaves was twisted in her flowing hair. Stag beetles and luna moths fled her when I lifted her bent form from its shadowy resting place. Tears streamed from her eyes like strings of glimmering pearls. Heart-rending sobs were her only means to articulate her grief. The pain of her loss had overmastered her so that no power of volition animated her broken body. I gathered her arms and legs together to carry her back home.

I would wait and soothe her until the ghost had returned to its shell.

After an hour, she was so exhausted from crying that she fell asleep on my lap, immersed into the realm of dreams. I shivered when I imagined what would have happened if Edoras had not sought me out. All day I watched over her. The sun rose high above the treetops and sunk low to hide behind the ashen shapes of the far pine trees. I forced her to eat something then. In the evening, she had calmed down somewhat and became more aware of her surroundings.

“My lord”, she whispered hoarsely, “it hurts so much.”

I bent down and kissed her brow.

“I know, my love. I know.”

***

After Nerewyn had given her a calming potion on my orders, her night had been quiet and peaceful. She slept tranquil by my side and I found her much recovered in the morning. She was calm and her aura much improved.

We broke our fast under the fresh, serene sky of the early day.

The gilded morning sun and the myriad sounds of awakening nature did much to improve her spirit.

Then I made her join me on my way to the second court. She puzzled over our purpose there but I would not tell her.

When we had advanced towards the center of the expanse, I signaled one of the stable boys. The moment the stable master led the Rohanese horse out on the longue, she was enthralled.

I was pleased to see her distracted.

Not taking her eyes off the magnificent silver-grey draft, she found my arm and gently tucked at my sleeve.

“That horse is marvelous, Thranduil. Where did you get it? It is strong, but has a narrower build than most. This would be such a joy to ride. On that creature you could charge through any obstacle! It has such a flamboyant trot - one could even ride it bareback, just grabbing its mane!”

Her enthusiasm amused me.

“Well, I give you half an hour to get used to your new horse, my lady, then we will ride out together. You will join me for the border inspection today, but I want to sup with you on the Aquila plain afterwards.

We will have our own picnic today, overlooking the bright red autumn treetops of Eryn Lasgalen.”

Her little cry of delight was muffled when she whirled around and enfolded my middle, tunic, gown and sleeves into her small arms.

Reassured, I smiled down upon the lank figure of my wife cuddled up to my chest before I surrounded my precious starlight with my arms.

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

When Edoras stormed into my study early in the morning, I barely recognized the man. He was agitated and wild as I had never seen him before.

“Where did she go?” he demanded without preamble, emphatically.

I started up and grabbed him.

“What do you mean?” I growled.

He was not intimidated.

“Just now one of our old campaigners came to me. He had entered the palace at the precise moment Elaine passed him by, racing out in full gallop. She was alone, my lord. He came to ask me when we were going to war and whether he should ready himself, for he knew the look on her face from the battle of Dale when she defended the Keep. Her love shone black from her eyes.”

His fixed stare turned insistent.

“Her eyes shone with the Black Light, my king. She has Líthorin, but no other weapon. She did not take her own horse and no guard accompanied her out of the palace.”

“Did something happen, my lord? To you or anyone she loves? Did someone threaten you? For she is pursuing a target right now. She is going to kill someone and I fear she will put herself in grave danger.” I stormed out and passed by the two guards outside her study when I entered, Edoras following close behind. The sight we encountered hit me. He was thunderstruck.

That was not her study any more. It was a vault. Every object in it was meticulously put in order, all her books were cleared up and returned to the shelf, the pillows on her stools were aligned, the bed was untouched and the vase of flowers was sitting in the very center of her breakfast table. The whole room breathed the austere atmosphere of a place that was uninhabited, waiting for a guest to come. Her very presence had vanished from it.

I gasped for breath.

After a moment, I advanced to her desk.

Shivering, I took in the surface: all reports and letters were neatly compiled in many piles of papers. On top of each pile lay a cover sheet with a list of things to do or a short summary of the previous proceedings and her further plans for the matter at hand.

She had worked through the night to leave everything in perfect order and prepared for takeover. When my eyes fell on the pile in the middle, I had to grip the edge of the table for support.

Her silver clasp was resting on it.

Edoras’ voice was hoarse:

“She will die. If we do not find her first, she will die. If she left like this, she estimates there is no possibility for her to survive on her own. And we do not know where she went to stop her.”

I refused to even consider the possibility when I turned to him.

“Take as many men as you need and interrogate everyone who spoke to her yesterday to learn what they discussed. Send anyone to me who can give a hint as to where she might have gone.”

He left immediately. I gave the same order to Haldir, Elas, Béarn and Tariel.

And I readied the army. We were possibly going to war.

***

It was not long afterwards that Edoras came back, accompanied by a human trader from Dale. The man was ashen-faced and trembled with fear when he faced me.

I had no time for his terrors.

“Speak! ”

“Great King, I talked to the princess Elaine yesterday about the delivery of iron ore from the Mountain via Dale. After we had finished business, I saw fit to condole with her and cursed the new Lord Laerd. She had obviously not heard…”

His voice faltered momentarily, but his fear of my wrath if he would not continue was stronger.

“…I told her about the rumor which has been circulating in Dale for some time now. That Laerd had deliberately trapped the families in the church of the Citadel to use them as pawns to kill her parents in an unequal fight. The people whisper that he prides himself especially on slaying the revered Lady, her mother, through that vile move.”

“She had not known -- I told her that Laerd was just now travelling to hold a tournament on the Old Field of the Rapid Water, next to the Unholy Forest.”

I lost no second.

“Edoras, you ride with me as advance guard. Béarn and Tariel will command the right and left flank of the army until they join us at the Old Field.”

I stormed out, ready to kill.

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

When we had reached and surveyed the Old Field from above, nothing unusual was noticeable. The tourney’s mêlée had not yet begun, but the stands were holding several footsoldiers who seemed to act as spectators in the stead of more noble guests. Two knights were charging at each other with levelled lances. Several cavaliers of the Lord’s retinue were readying themselves before their pavilions and would in a short time mount their horses for sword battle. The Lord sat on an ornamented chair which was placed on an elevated wooden platform which was positioned directly in front of the torrential river for a more dramatic impression. Several soldiers and bowmen guarded his person. On the opposite riverbank the black trees of the Unholy Forest stood out from the bright sky. Notably absent from the gathering were other nobles and ladies. None of them graced the seated Lord with their presence, so that the tournament looked rather like some coarse ruffians banding together, playing with swords.

My eyes slid over the scene in search for her slim figure. That Elaine was just now preparing to stir up this hornets’ nest was unbearable.

Edoras evidently felt the time for confessions had come when he started:

“My king, the Lady Elaine –“

I cut him off with an impatient gesture, never tearing my eyes away from the Field below:

“I know that she was trained as an assassin. I met her mother in Lothlórien and I know that she trained Elaine to become a royal guard, among many other things. In her view this required a deep knowledge of the enemy’s actions. And what knowledge would be better than being able to actually perform the attack one had to prevent.”

I grit my teeth.

“I know that in the female side of her family preparation for any violent encounter was elevated to a form of art.”

“And I know that she will use any means necessary to get within an arm’s length of that man down there if we don’t find her first.”

At that moment Béarn had joined our group, noiselessly as always.

“Your majesty, the army is ready.”

I nodded.

“Have them deployed in a pincer movement around the Field so that they can immediately halt any fighting that might break out below.”

He turned back instantly.

When I looked back, my heart stood still. She was suddenly standing on the slanting wooden roof of an elaborate tent as if she had materialized out of thin air. Her posture was erect, and her eyes were shimmering as black as the windswept hair behind her back. I growled.

She drew Líthorin and its glistening light attracted the attention of every last person on the field below. I cursed her.

“Lord Laerd”, she shouted, “be warned: you will die today for I will kill you for your murder.”

The uproar among the men was immediate. From his makeshift throne Laerd jumped to his feet.

“Shoot her down that tent!”

When the soldier was drawing his bow, her black eyes never left the bowman while she still continued to loudly provoke the mortal Lord, flaunting and parading her disdain while brandishing her sword: “You will never defeat me, Laerd!”

When the arrow flew at her, she jumped up a fraction to have the tip lodge deep in her left side, creating a serious flesh-wound instead of piercing her heart as would have been the case without her carefully calculated manoeuvre. She cried a piercing cry when the arrow hit her and dramatically slipped from the roof, but sure as death landed on her right side so that the arrow wound on her left would not be further enlarged. Líthorin fell down next to her, its light abruptly extinguished. Soldiers from Laerd’s personal guard were hurrying towards her tiny prostrate form to drag her small limp body before their master.

Edoras and I moved simultaneously towards the elevated platform, two inconspicuous if rather tall soldiers clad in black cloaks who were participating in the tourney.

We took up station directly below the Lord when Elaine’s motionless form was pulled up the stairs of the wooden structure and made to kneel before him. One of the soldiers handed him Líthorin, the sword which had grabbed everyone’s attention when it had glowed only some seconds ago. Slightly disappointed, Laerd registered that not even his considerable self-esteem was sufficient to make it gleam. He shifted his attention from the sword to the bleeding woman with lowered head on bent knees before him.

“You want to kill me?” he said airily.

Elaine did not move, but she replied clearly:

“You murdered my parents and you burnt the families which were sheltering in the church of the Citadel. Innocent families my parents tried to protect from you and your men.”

He laughed, amused.

“I did. I slew that abnormity and her deluded husband, and then I burned the traitors.”

Her hand twitched.

“I made sure to rid Dale from that thing and her influence. She welcomed all those blood-sucking outsiders while she amassed all the wealth of the city in her greedy hands. I did the only sensible thing, to weed her out as soon as I could.”

“It was easy, too. I had a spy planted in the Citadel and ordered him to block the escape tunnel under the church with boulders so that the traitors would be trapped. The rest was a breeze, really. As I had expected, the stupid animal ordered her unit to defend the families inside. It was almost too easy to slay her with my superior numbers.”

Her breath had quickened, but she remained in her slouched position.

“It was the only sensible thing to do, especially considering the danger that this other perverse creature, the Elf King, would arrive too early with his army and forge an alliance with her. But thankfully that stupid beast was still chasing down Orcs.”

Her hand shook. A shifting strand of her hair exposed that his remarks had caused her eyes to blaze and she displayed her sharp white fangs in a silent hiss.

He tilted his head when he contemplated her hunched, wounded figure from above.

“And now the malformed daughter is practically begging me to end her wretched life – I can comply with that, my lady.” He was mock-bowing to her.

The surrounding men smirked and laughed.

Then her cold voice sounded:

“You will die, Laerd, and painfully!”

With a lightning-quick move, she had unsheathed a small, glittering dagger which she had kept carefully hidden in the folds of her tunic. She sank it to the hilt into Laerd’s entrails. All that remained visible was the short handle. With a cry of pain, Líthorin fell out of his hand and he clutched his stomach.

Edoras and I turned and cut the soldiers and bowmen around us down while the Elven Army descended on the field. No soldier came so much as near the wooden stage behind us.

Chapter Text

~ Elaine POV ~

Laerd collapsed slowly after my dagger had found its target and was lodged deeply in his entrails. Coldly, I watched his face, his expression still disbelieving and newly contorted with burning pain. I grabbed back Líthorin, but I knew that its light would not shine any more when I turned to face my death in the form of the massive onslaught of Laerd’s soldiers and knights.

For a moment, I was stunned. At my feet, the familiar silhouettes of a tall black man and tall fair elf were devastating the ranks of Laerd’s guards and soldiers most viciously while two golden waves of elven soldiers flooded down the small mounds which surrounded the Field. I quietly watched my king fight in front of me. My heart was longing for him. But I knew what I had done and the next moment I wondered why he had come. Then I remembered his unfailing care for his subjects and I smiled. Even with his love extinguished, he would still ensure the well-being of all his underlings, and that included me. His concern for my life warmed me, but it was unnecessary really.

I knew that having lost his love with his trust today, I could not stay by his side any more, not even as the helpful princess of the Arrân. Not that I had pondered that possibility deeply – I had been convinced that I would find my death on this field today as sure as the moon would run its course tonight.

Sending my lord one last loving glance, I sheathed Líthorin, broke off the shaft of the arrow in my side, turned and threw myself into the rapid torrent of the ice-cold mountain river behind me. The water swept me along swiftly as I struggled to draw my breath in the oppressing, angry embrace of the river and to reach the other bank without drowning first.

~ Thranduil POV ~

It was a matter of seconds. When she had passed the sentence on Laerd, Edoras and I were diminishing the stampeding soldiers while the place was seized by my army’s overwhelming force. The capture of Laerd’s minions proceeded swiftly and effortlessly all around me. I turned to help Elaine down the platform and deposit her into the safe hands of our healers.

***

I was staring with wide eyes at the broken arrow shaft in front of me. Then I registered the rapid flow of the icy torrent behind and my head snapped to the right. She was nowhere to be seen. I roared with pain before bawling out an order for my Elk and Béarn.

Until now this had been a matter of avoiding that she would lose any more blood from the arrow wound in her side. With her mad action I was now facing her imminent death from exposure if I did not find her before sunset when the already chilly temperature in the Unholy Forest would drop rapidly. That left me with no more than two hours – and we first had to reach the next ford where we could cross the fast-flowing and broad river.

For the thousandth time today I threatened awful vengeance for her present conduct at some period fast coming.

~ Elaine POV ~

I hated the cold. I had always hated being cold. Nothing had me complaining during campaigns. Not the pain, not the fatigue, not the horrible sights – but the piercing cold in the camps had always made me curl myself in excessively, looking like a wandering ball of woven fabric with tucked-on black hair. One of the Lothlórien soldiers had once joked that I would react lenient if a lance stuck in my torso, but that anyone who took away my jealously guarded collection of blankets and quilts would inevitably suffer a harrowing death at my hands. It was my ill luck that today I had most possibly exchanged a warm bleeding to death with a cold freezing to death.

But I would not give in before I was forced to. At the same time I knew that my chance of survival was miserable. With wet clothes and a bleeding side wound I would not live to see the morning sun rise. I continued on, in the fleeting hope of happening upon a hunter or gatherer in the Unholy Forest who could save me from dying in the cold.

The dark oaks obscured the setting sun and did nothing to keep off a frosty wind. Treading on the mossy forest soil created the feeling of walking on dark, plush green clouds. But with time I struggled to recognize its unevenness which made my travel a slow and weary business. Debilitating hunger and a feeling of sickness had passed when my violent shivering subsided.

I grabbed Líthorin closer to defend myself in case of a bear or wolf attack. The Unholy Forest was renowned for many creatures in its wild depths, but not of a peaceful nature. The wind was biting.

A paralysing, leaden drowsiness sank down on me.

I progressed at a snails pace now, not aware of my surroundings any more. I had difficulty coordinating the lifting and lowering of my feet. The welcoming dark arms of sleep and the peaceful atmosphere of the realm of the dead beckoned me. My pulse had slowed down considerably.

When I fell, I did not have the strength to get up any more. A frozen, cold stillness had enveloped me and hung between me and the world like icy drapery. I sank down, into the gentle arms of sleep, gliding towards the darker lands which lay behind.

A last memory materialized, of my king, who would now live alone again. And of my parents, when we had last sat at the lake together. That warmed me and I gripped Líthorin tighter. Holding onto my mother’s sword, I slipped below the surface of consciousness and fell asleep.

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

Determinedly, I stamped onsetting panic down. Now was not the moment to burst an insufferable bond and plunge headlong into wild license. But my chest was gripped in a tightening clasp as I registered the rapidly progressing setting of the sun.

I had to find her, now. Tracking down her trail had been more difficult than expected, for we had to start right at the outset, on the opposite bank of the river at the level of the Old Field. The rocky banks did not yield many clues and it took long to find the place where she had hauled herself ashore.

We then followed her route into the forest, but I was in anguish and distress when by my calculation we should have caught up with her and there was still no trace of her.

Night was slowly setting in. The temperature was dropping fast.

I was silently praying to the Valar for their help in finding my beloved.

We would lose her trail soon and I was bound to find a petite frozen corpse nestled on the forest floor tomorrow if we were not able to locate her now. My eyes were swerving and scrutinizing every single tree in front of me for a glimpse of her movement or her figure.

Suddenly, the familiar warm glow of golden light lit up the forest in front of me, originating a short distance away on the ground to my left. My heart gave a start when I raced towards it. Conflicting feelings held me in their claws.

This light meant that she was still living, but had lost consciousness. Which in turn meant she was starting to freeze to death.

I reached her first. She lay on the ground, looking peaceful, the calmly gleaming form of Líthorin tightly in her grasp. Her prostrate body was cold and rigid as an icicle when I touched her. The wound in her side only caused a thin trickle of blood now with the way too cold temperature of her body.

“Turn around!”, I barked at the approaching soldiers.

Then I turned her fully on her back and cut the rigid, wet clothes away from her body. Once more I was struck by how small and frail she now looked while lying motionless in front of me and how tall and strong she seemed on the battlefield or with the long form of Líthorin in her hand. My wife was indeed a changeling.

Carefully, I wrapped her up, first in a thick blanket and then into my gown. While I pressed her to me, I ordered Béarn to ride ahead and have the healer prepare compresses to warm her neck and chest up gradually. One of the soldiers moved to collect her sword.

While my elk flew back to the camp, I carefully monitored her shallow breathing and held her gently, making sure that no jarring movement reached her.

***

When it was evident that her body was gradually heating up and that she was out of imminent danger, I left her for a moment. Tariel led me to the shed I sought. When I entered, I had a quick glance at Laerd. The human was writhing on the bare ground, his right hand chained to a wooden peg. He was breathing labouredly, but not conscious. I had merely come to ensure that he was doing as he should: he died, painfully.

The dagger’s poison coursed through his veins.

Fully satisfied that Elaine’s wish was being fulfilled, I headed out into the night.

I then commanded Tariel to ride back to the Greenwood with one half of the army and to take Laerd’s knights and friends and throw them in the dungeons. Sooner or later one of them would talk as to who had had a hand in the assault on my wife when her ears had been cut in Dale. I was pleased that I would learn this most coveted information in due time. Revenge was the dish I would savour cold. Personally.

***

She was gradually awaking from a deep sleep.

When she had regained consciousness, she trailed her eyes over the scarce furniture of the healing tent. She did not even move a tiny fraction, which spoke of the great danger she had been in. Her body was physically worn-out and completely drained. She had not slept the night before, had not tasted food or drink for a day, had heard of the horrendous death of her parents, got shot, bled profusely and nearly froze to death. That was a lot, even for my hardy wife.

The young healer elleth came in and helped her sit up, slowly but surely. She then forced her to drink some warm herbal concoction and made her swallow several sweet forest ears. Progress was slow. When Elaine had dutifully refreshed herself, she was lowered down again and carefully tucked in before the elleth left the tent.

After a long silence my starlight had regained enough breath to speak, but her voice was so hoarse and scratchy that she had to start all over again.

“My king.”

I answered her, calmly and assured, but did not move from my seated station behind the headboard of her bed so that she was not able to see me.

“I am here, my love.”

This epithet puzzled her. Her brows furrowed when her expectation and my appellation did not match.

None of us spoke while she processed what she had just heard.

“You are pitying me, my king. There is no need.”

I shortly barked a deep laugh before I turned serious again.

“To the contrary, my lady. You will soon experience first-hand my punishment for your disobedience and treachery. I will not cast you out, princess. My vengeance will be much worse: I will take away every means you have to defy me in future.”

“You cannot be serious. You cannot wish for me to remain at your court.”

“Elaine, you have huge faith in my wrath, but little in my love. Which speaks for you, as it testifies to the clamouring conscience which tortures you. But you forget that I am king. It will be I and not you who passes judgement on you. And I will do with you as I please.”

She pondered my words for some time before she inquired:

“Will I lose freedom of movement, my king?”

After a short deliberation, I replied:

“Not entirely.”

She was trying to reconcile herself with this future condition. But she had a second question:

“Will the Arrân be in any way held accountable for what I did?”

I had a strong sense of déjà-vu.

“No, my lady.”

She seemed resolved after this answer.

“I will accept your judgement, Your Majesty.”

After another long silence, she whispered, softly and rather embarrassed:

“Will you stay, my king?”

I smiled into the dark.

“I will stay, my love.”

Minutes later she was fast asleep while I watched over her slumber.

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

I confined her to my rooms during her reconvalescence where she had to lie in my bed and heal. Nerewyn treated her, but she was not allowed to see anyone else. The wound in her side was faster to close than that in her mind. My trusted healer made sure that she was transferred into the garden when dark clouds amassed in her thoughts. The sights and sounds of nature always soothed her.

When one day I had entered the study unannounced, she had started to take her first steps, and I found her quietly slinking away on wobbly and unsteady legs. Seeing her walk, how she supported her slim figure on the furniture, I decided that her temporary respite was over. Knowing her character, I realized that – although not yet as strong as before – she would soon be strong enough to potentially defy me and my orders. And I was prepared to kill before I would let that happen again.

That evening I plucked her from the settee she was resting on. She had been engrossed in a long letter from Mithrandir and cried out when I lifted her small form unexpectedly. Paying no heed to her vivid protests, I dragged her across the room and deposited her right onto my large writing desk where the bright gleam of dozens of candles illumined her voluptuous form.

From the middle of the table, she looked up at me, uncomprehending and utterly bewildered. Her look changed to outright disbelief when she registered my lustful, instinctual desire and that I was fast undressing her.

“My king,” she tried to protest, but I merely growled at her.

Then I splayed my hand across her heaving chest and pushed her down, resolved and purposeful. I towered over her and made her docile from the encounter with my ice-cold stare alone. She stilled her movements and watched me, unsuccessfully trying to process what was happening. I grabbed her hips and pulled her towards me for further use.

“Open your legs for your king.”

She obeyed me hesitatingly. I inhaled sharply when I saw her offering herself to me. I stepped close to keep her spread widely below me. My hand was skillfully stimulating the opened flower before me which would burst into bloom as per my desire. She smothered a shriek when I first touched her sensitive fleshy leaves.

My stare was fixed on her desperate face when my fingers moved to undo her and tear down all her walls. She had been so unprepared for my action that she was wholly unable to compose herself. Her breathing quickly became labored and shallow. She looked up at my looming frame and only barely suppressed a lascivious moan before she started to implore me while I felt her shiver under my demanding hand.

“Please, my king, this is too much.”

I merely commanded:

“Touch your breasts.”

After some seconds, her trembling hands found her breasts and she stroked and squeezed her smooth and pliant mounds. I groaned at the sight, unbridled lust flaring up in my groin. Her small fingertips kneaded her red nipples. My mouth went dry as my hand stroked, pressed and rubbed her in the same rhythm she pleasured herself.

She whimpered in growing need and torturous desire. I surveyed her like an eagle, hovering over my prey. When she closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, I hissed at her:

“Look at me!”

Her deep eyes reawakened and focused on my face.

She whined.

I bent down to her and lured her.

“Come for me, my love.”

My fingers controlled her fully and she now chased her release when she ground desperately against my kneading and pressing hand. Her sounds were a mix of despairing supplication and frantic whimpering. Her hands moved over the even surface below her, in desperate search, not finding any support or stable footing. She finally scratched her nails on the wooden area she could reach, writhing in agony.

When I pushed hard into her, she howled and screamed with the violent release I had subjected her to. Her whole body went limp as she struggled to breathe. I could not resist the sprawled out temptation before me and bent down to taste her between her creamy legs, savouring her sumptuous nectar.

She really had the ability to make me lose my mind.

I loosened the much confining laces on my trousers. Then I purred:

“My lady, you will hear your judgment tomorrow. Until then I will make sure that your newfound energy gets channeled properly.”

I guided her legs around my waist before I moved to reclaim much-missed territory.

Chapter Text

~ Reader POV ~

When I woke up next to my king in the morning, I felt sapped and sated - and sore. I smiled at the recollection of the insane weirdness of last night – while I had done my best to accommodate the numerous demands of my king, I was still struck by his eccentric move.

I was sure that his sudden enthusiasm had set me back at least a day in my efforts to properly walk again.

Not that it mattered.

Wiggling closer to my lord, I gently placed my head on his broad chest to not wake him up. I loved his heady scent. His skin was paradise. He tasted tangy like the leaves of Eryn Lasgalen and crisp like the wind. Unbidden, my cat tongue snaked out to sample his flavour. Maybe I could bite---

His splayed hand smacked my backside and I shrieked with surprise, jerking against him. He did not stop and forcefully pressed a very well-utilised part of my body against his hip to make his presence felt.

I turned my head up to look at my exasperated king.

“You are not only using your king as your pillow again, after merely one night you are already starting to eat your sovereign ruler alive.”

Never breaking eye contact with my king, my brows furrowed with the sobering realization that he was speaking the full truth. I whined and pressed my forehead into his ribs. This was so embarrassing.

Why did I have to fall for such an old, self-controlled elf???

He patted my butt to get my attention.

I complied.

“I cannot remember having suspended the usual penalty. And I will devise a separate punishment for your new lèse-majesté later.”

Defeated, I sighed and placed both my hands on his ribcage to hoist me up to the required level. Under his expectant gaze I then moved to kiss his full lips, but at short notice changed my mind and quickly kissed the underside of his chin instead.

My cry was shrill when he whirled me round, grabbed my jaw and ravaged my mouth, effectively silencing me. I was breathless and my knees white downy feathers when he finally released me.

I was well aware that in all his determination he had been careful not to touch or hurt my still tender side.

Smug, he inhaled my labored breath while his falling hair was enclosing my field of vision like an indirectly lit glowing golden curtain.

“You will not withhold me payment, my lady,” he breathed.

He retreated until he sat cross-legged before me.

“Speaking of which, you will have to start the robing procedure now to ensure that the tailors have adapted the fit of your gown and dress until the evening.”

While speaking, he turned towards the small wooden drawer next to the bed and extended his long arm to pick something up. I had sat up as well.

Just when I opened my mouth to inquire what he meant he placed my silver ornament in my hand.

I congealed and all colour drained from my face.

Unbidden, the vision of the second I had put it down onto my desk played out in my mind. That horrible moment when I had renounced my lord and violated his feelings to go and die for my parents. When I had broken my promise and moved to sever our bond in cold blood, fully aware of what I was doing to him. When my heart had been rent apart.

My accursed action rose before me like a specter and my unpardonable betrayal jumped out at me from the palm of my hand.

I had to flee. I could not stay.

~ Thranduil POV ~

She had turned deathly pale. I saw how in the fixed stare of her eyes the present melted away, giving way to the torments of the past. She cringed before she gripped the blanket to cover herself, not in the least conscious of her movement. Retreating on her knees, she shied away from me while ridding herself of the silver clasp as if it had burnt her hand. She was bent on getting up, getting away.

I grabbed the long blanket and swiftly wrapped it round her arms and torso, imprisoning both ends in my clenched fist, checking her escape. This constriction of her flight brought her back to me. She determinedly struggled against her confines, turning and squirming. When this was no use, she pleaded insistently and out of breath:

“My king. Please. Let me go. I cannot stay.”

She twisted and writhed under my hold, trying to free herself, firmly shaking her head.

“My king. I cannot do this. You don’t want this.”

Her agitation ceased as her little force was used up. She was bent forward and drawing her breath, her small alabaster hand placed on my muscular forearm as if to push my arm away. It lay motionless as her strength had failed her mid-action.

I had been right with my decision to confront her now. Some more days and my wife would have jumped back in a flash at the sight, with the great leap of a startled doe and the speed of a diving falcon. I would have had much ado to restrain and control her when in this state of mind and in full possession of her outstanding physical capabilities. Her desperate jump into a freezing river was sufficient proof and had put me on my guard.

“Elaine. Listen to me. Carefully.”

“Do you really think I am ignorant of the reason you left?”

She did not react, but she was listening.

“You had just discovered that your parents had been murdered in the Citadel.”

A choked sound escaped her. I came to the point.

“You are convinced that I cannot forgive your betrayal, for leaving me and nearly breaking our bond in the process. You think my desire to keep you by my side is self-delusion, my lust temporarily blinding my reason and better judgement. That I should rather chase away someone hateful and inadequate like you, who has hurt and betrayed me thus.”

She performed a nodding motion and consent to my statement tumbled from her lips.

I had to take a deep breath.

“Elaine, do you know who you are talking to? You are talking to an elf who has led his army into war to reclaim the White Gems of Lasgalen. A lot of my soldiers died in this war. In Dale your parents died, Elaine, in what was then only a secondary theatre of war for me. Making them indirectly the victims of my quest to reclaim the possession of my first wife Thror had stolen.”

“I unwittingly devastated the life of my future wife trying to hold onto a memory of the past. And I have been justly chastised for my haughty indifference toward human suffering.”

“Do you really think I cannot understand the cruel torments of the past? Do you really think I am not in a position to forgive you for wanting to avenge your parents’ death? When it was I who caused it by trying to regain a memento? How could I criticize your conduct when mine was exactly the same?”

She watched me, crying silently.

“It is I who is begging your forgiveness today for causing you so much pain, my lady.”

I bowed my head to her.

Her hands flew up and found the hand I had placed on my heart. She violently shook her head, her expression horror-struck.

“Thranduil, you have nothing to do with my parents’ death! There is nothing to forgive!” she insisted, with as much force as her broken voice held.

“You have nothing to do with the fact that my father was an old ally of the Mountain. You know that Erathorn and Thror would have gone to war anyway, with or without your involvement. My parents would have fought for Erebor no matter what. And you have nothing to do with --- with Laerd’s malice and spite.”

Her voice cracked and splintered.

I gathered her into my arms.

“Elaine”, I whispered, “I am a greedy and selfish elf. I cannot let you go. I will not release you. I want you to stay by my side, forever.”

“Will you remain in Eryn Lasgalen, as my wife?”

Chapter Text

~ Reader POV ~

When our eyes met, I was struck by the burning intensity of his gaze and the tense aura he radiated. His cerulean eyes were animated by an unsettling silver-grey glint, like the gathering of clotting clouds before a storm. His arms restrained me as much as they held me close to him.

I scrutinized him, for a long time.

Thinking about his past and mine.

Then I responded softly:

“I think you have a deeply loving heart, that you are extremely concerned for the well-being of your people and trying your best to do right by them, encourage and protect them, as every king should. You are thoughtful and just, my king. You are faithful and loyal. You have defended your first wife in life and you defend her in death. Knowing this, I could leave my most precious possession behind when I went away – because I knew they were well cared for in your hands.”

“You are a part of me and see into my soul. You understand me better than anyone.”

I held his piercing, lurking gaze.

“All my heart belongs to you. If you really can forgive me, how could I go away?”

I saw that something in him snapped and something loosened – and was curious to learn which was which. He growled like approaching thunder. He groped; I arrested his wandering hand, and prisoned it in both mine. The muscular hand broke from my custody; my arm was seized, my shoulder — neck — waist — I was entwined and gathered to him.

“You cannot take back what you just said!”

That was clearly a threat.

Resolutely, he continued, his old imperiousness rising:

“Nevertheless, the fact remains that you defied you king’s direct orders when you left the palace without my permission and without your personal guard.”

I buried my face in his broad chest and started to pray to the Valar.

My lord saw fit to play with my hair while I waited for his verdict.

I heard in his voice that he was vastly content as well as dangerous as a rising lion when he informed me:

“I have settled on a fitting and comprehensive punishment, my lady, which will be carried out swiftly, you need not worry.”

“This evening, I will make you my queen.”

His arms had me pinned to him like two encasing steel rods when I started to frantically fight him, resulting in me remaining almost motionlessly perched on his lap and squashed to his chest although I used all and any force I could muster.

Frustrated by my futile endeavour, I screamed:

“Thranduil!!! You cannot be serious!!!”

“I cannot become your queen!!! I am not qualified! You are mad! Me, ruling over Eryn Lasgalen! I would be a total failure, Thranduil! A green half-elf the queen of a High Sindar Lord! This is laughable! No one would take me seriously! All Elven Lords would joke about your girl-bride! You must be dreaming! And I don’t have your power or experience to defend the Greenwood! What are you thinking! I was trained to govern a few dozen families, Thranduil! Stop joking! I cannot rule an Elven realm! Let me go! Thranduil, let me go!”

I was collapsing against him, in real danger of blackening out, exhausted and enfeebled from my frantic effort to free myself and make him see the black madness of his planned undertaking. My body was drained, my mind spinning.

He relaxed his grip a fraction to check whether I would recommence my fight.

I was still trying to catch my breath and cursed my wretched weakness which prevented me from doing as I wanted.

“Why now?” I whined, complaining to destiny. In a few days I would have been able to stand up to him and make him see reason – or at least to escape and hide in a deep hole somewhere in the forest till he had come to his senses.

He merely chuckled when he took in my defenseless state.

In my desperate attempt to change his mind, I changed tack.

“My king, please. I think it would be better to speak about this some other time. Maybe you want to reconsider your wish in future. Why not take some more time to think this over? Please do not be in such a great hurry. I can simply continue as your wife as I have until now. Please, my king. Surely nothing calls for such a drastic change in such a small amount of time. You would barely have time to prepare a stately ceremony like this.”

“Hm”, he answered, shifting me to a position where he could take me in better.

“Contrary to your clamouring claims I cannot find you inadequate to any task, my lady. You rarely give up in your pursuit of a goal and you are smoothly adapting your strategy to the situation you find yourself in.”

“I would be inclined to grant your request after your soft pleading if I were not aware that you are determinedly scheming to escape me now.”

I merely sighed.

“But I have been warned, my lady. And believe me, I do not need a second warning after -- the events at the Field. You will attend the ceremony tonight by my side, princess.”

I readied myself for what I had to do: gather my feeble strength and slip out of his rooms at the next opportunity which would present itself.

After a moment, he continued:

“And until then I will not let you out of my sight, my lady.”

I started and caught his gaze, incredulous. He could not mean--- Did he read me---

Chapter Text

~ Thranduil POV ~

Her frantic fight had weakened her so that I forced her to lie down again. Today her weakness reassured me. She would not escape me now.

It became apparent how much she had overspent and exhausted her little strength when I had to carry her into the bath, for she could not keep herself upright on her shaky legs. She would have fallen if I had not swept her up the moment her legs gave way. And this was no clever ruse – she had aimed to be alone there because it afforded her a possibility to escape into the garden. That she could not support herself on her own and needed my help thwarted her plans and annoyed her much - I could see the deep frustration in her eyes.

When the tailors adjusted her robe and gown to make it fit her perfectly, I oversaw every last detail until I was completely satisfied. She had grown much thinner and this was one point where I planned to exercise my future complete authority over her. No more harm or sorrow was to reach my wife.

Momentarily meek as a lamb, she suffered through the fitting procedure, supported by two chambermaids. Her shimmering white dress was sewn with diamonds in the shape of glittering stars. Her every motion translated into the fiery scintillation and sparkle of a rainbow of light. Nevertheless, the brightness of the precious gems which adorned her did not reach the warm radiance of my starlight. Nothing could match her glowing love.

Her gown was exactly as I had wished: it had a short trail, but was flowing so intricately that it amplified her dainty dancer’s figure and gave it the stateliness I desired for my queen. The rich burgundy velvet was embellished with thick golden embroidery in the form of pairs of antlers. The glistening trimmings were formed of entwined leaves and Athelas flowers. She truly was not only the pride of my life, but the desire of my eyes.

“You will all leave. I have to speak to the lady!” I ordered suddenly.

She turned her head to look at me. Her regard was attentive and intense as always.

I held her arm to keep her steady.

“Can you stand unsupported for a short time, my love?” I asked.

She nodded without hesitation. No adversity held her back for long.

“Close your eyes.”

After shooting me a surprised look, she complied.

~ Reader POV ~

My feelings were conflicted when I felt how he was placing what I guessed was a tiara on my head, carefully twisting it into my hair. That he was so resolutely determined to make me his queen troubled me profoundly. My heart sank when I realized how deeply committed he was to the desire of having me by his side.

But I was really not fit to be his queen.

His touch ceased and he returned, supporting my arm.

“You may open your eyes now, my lady.”

When I took in my reflection in the large mirror in front of me, my heart stopped and I had to lean on him once more because my legs threatened to give way a second time that day.

That was no tiara on my head. He had crowned me with the Star of the Night. My circlet was weaving in and out of my thick dark hair in the lifelike way even many High Ladies had admired in the past. Its single star-shaped stone shone brightly and spread its white and coloured light, glittering like a vivid crystal.

A queen looked back at me.

My gaze snapped up to my lord who was contemplating me, quietly and silently.

I had to gather myself before I could talk.

“For how long have you been planning to --- to make me your queen?”

He smiled imperceptibly at my shocked response.

“Consciously? I think since before the day you handed your circlet to my Master of Arms. When the Arrân arrived in Eryn Lasgalen.”

I tried to come to terms with this new information and its implications.

I looked back at my reflection in the mirror.

At the stately queen standing beside her lord and king.

I registered how the circlet I had inherited from my mother sparkled on the hair whose raven colour I had got from my father. This was what they must have seen when I was dancing at the balls in Lothlórien.

Their daughter, a future ruler.

I turned back to my king.

“I think I need to sit down for a while, my lord. To think this through.”

He swept me from my feet and carried me to his bed. Sitting down on the edge, he seated me on his lap, gently guiding my head to rest on his chest. He was holding me in his embrace, stroking my arm through the many layers of fabric.

Patiently waiting.

~ Thranduil POV ~

She was gradually working out and coming to terms with what would await her in future. Her progress was most curious. From time to time, as her thoughts advanced, she lifted her head and turned up her gaze, scrutinizing me. Doubting, interrogating, questioning me. At times she huffed a laugh or grumbled in my chest, exasperated and shaking her head.

Finally, she looked up and simply stated:

“You are utterly mad, my king.”

***

The afternoon, she was restless and nervous. Two times, she tried to talk me out of my decision in a temporary relapse. I tried my best to calm down my agitated wife. That she could not physically exert herself was putting an additional strain on her, but I thanked the Valar for her present reduced scope for action, given her previous reactions.

When we had both donned our attire and she was gazing at me, completely enraptured, I simply seized her and – disregarding her indignant protests - carried her to the throne room in my arms. When I was nearing the entrance, she whispered to me, so that the gathered humans and elves would not hear:

“My king, I can walk. Please let me down. I have rested for hours now. You really do not need to carry me.”

I merely glanced down at her, doubtingly.

I did no sooner set her down than we had reached the opened portal of the throne room. She exhaled, relieved that only the guards outside had seen her in my arms. At the rustle of her dress, I smirked. All elves would know what had happened anyway. But I respected her wishes.

When she was standing upright, it took her a moment to get used to the feeling, and she had to hold onto me. I could clearly see that the day’s excitement had taken more of a toll on her unsteady frame than she was aware of.

I carefully guided her little hands around my left arm, making sure that she would truly support herself on me. Thankfully, she complied.

We advanced, very slowly, and a deep peacefulness overcame me when I felt the gentle pressure of my wife’s hands on my arm. My queen by my side.