Scenes from a Life

Beta: Mary Aseltyne

Chapter summary: A maidservant turned royal consort returns to her previous life - and meets more royalty!

Timeline: The forth year in the rule of King Aragorn Elessar.


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"Do not think I grieve. I chose my life in Hades.
It was not the serpent, which chose me. It was I, who chose the serpent.
I saw it on the meadow among the flowers. I desired the poison."

("Eurydike to Orpheus" by the Swedish poet Ebba Lindqvist)

***

Eadhild was back again at the inn in Ninglorost, after nearly five years spent in the realm of the Elvenking. The world had changed profusely with the destruction of the One Ring, but the great changes would take time to come through into the lives of simpler people. Mirkwood was named Greenwood again, and the spiders had become fewer, but otherwise life in the halls of Thranduil had remained the same to the mortal woman.

She had tried to make it work, tried to make a serious attempt to flee from the perils of her life in the town by living with the elves and their king. For some time she had even began to believe that she could stay there forever, in safety, eventually becoming the king's consort in all but the title itself.

But no, she thought as she wiped the tables in the main hall of the inn, her second attempt at family life hadn't worked either. Life at the royal court of Mirkwood didn't suit her. Oh, the nights were most satisfying, and she had grown fond of the rowdy monarch whom many feared, but who had finally begun to let softer shades of his personality show through. But the days!

With no official function, the days had first been pure pleasure. The dresses, the exquisite food, and the luxury of doing whatever she wanted had kept her happy for many weeks, despite the fact that she had next to nobody to talk to. But as the months passed, she grew restless and she missed the company of her fellow maidservants.

The wine drinking and merrymaking, and even the official dinners were fine as long as she could sit next to her king and smile at him now and then. But entertaining guests with spirited conversation was not her best talent and she was never fully comfortable with the situation.

And there was always the fear that one of the Elves she had entertained at the inn would show up. Not that any of them would think less of her for it, for jealousy was not a trait common among Elves and if they in their long lives should succumb to gossip, the strife would be unbearable. Still she would find it awkward if such an encounter should come to pass. She had longed for a simpler life.

But what made her finally decide to leave the halls of Thranduil was the king himself. The endless games of dominance and submission had thrilled her at first. During their casual meetings at the inn, they had been a titillating contrast to the affectionate lovemaking most of the ever-courteous elves had offered her. The first year in Mirkwood everything the king did to her was unexpected and exciting. His never-ending imagination when it came to new scenarios made her feel desired.

Then it had become a habit. She had began to find it tiresome never to be able to just spend time with him without being bent over a desk or pushed up against a wall or tossed onto a fur. The thought of it now, afterwards, still made her feel something, but it had really not been good all of the time. His volatile temper had only been exciting up to a point, and the constant worry that he might lose control and turn to random violence made her weary. The Elvenking was many things, but he could never be considered "safe".

It also annoyed her to be treated like a servant after all this time. She had assumed a passive role in their lovemaking, but that certainly didn't give him any right to think that he could dominate her whole life or order her around like some trembling Elf-maid! Just the thought of it made her upset again. She had come to find peace and a place to feel safe, not a new yoke.

It had to end. It hadn't been her life. And Thranduil had understood. He had thanked her for the years they had spent together and let her go without making a scene or dragging out the farewell. He said that she was welcome back to visit whenever she would like to, likely knowing that it would not come to pass.

She left in the morning after a last night of pleasure, her departure witnessed only by the king's seneschal, who had informed her that Thranduil was in his throne room, attending to a matter of state that could not be delayed. Eadhild did not believe him for a second, but she was glad that she knew the Elvenking well enough to guess the reason for his absence, and she found it touching. Her escort of black-clad Elves made sure she reached her destination unharmed and in possession of some small barrels of wine, as well as a chest containing dresses and jewellery she did not know when she would wear again, if ever.

So she had returned to Ninglorost and its inn, a few years older and a lot wiser than she left. At thirty-five, she was still attractive, that was at least something the Elvenking had shown her. She would long miss him, of course, and would never part from the necklace with his green stones, but she felt that going back to her old way of life was better for her. And other elves would come her way, more tender in their affections. The thought of some change in that area made her smile.

The younger maids could not understand how anyone would even think of exchanging the luxury of a court for this poor existence. They were young. To them everything was still a game and they could not grasp that sometimes, personal freedom was the most important thing in life, if it so only was measured in the choice of one Elf over another or no Elf at all in her bed.

The days at the inn passed, and despite of the hard work, and the dreams of the Elvenking that would not cease, Eadhild felt peace in her heart. She belonged in the world of Men after all, and Elves were best enjoyed as a treat, not a part of everyday life. She hoped that she would meet one soon, someone to show her that not all were like the one she had just left.

She almost couldn't believe her eyes when she came into the main hall one evening to find a small group of them gathered around a table in the far end of the hall. They were all flaxen-haired, most with a slight tint of gold to their blond locks, but some were a more silvery hue.

One of them, appearing to be the tallest, shimmered like moonlight and she couldn't help staring at him. She was happy that he was facing away from her, and was just about to approach the company to ask whether they required more food or drink, when one of them rose and went towards her. There was something familiar about him, and she didn't have to search long in her memory for his name.

Orophin! Yes, that was it! She hadn't met Rúmil's brother since her first week at the inn, when he had smouldered her anger in gentlemanly behaviour and sweet caresses. She smiled at the memory and was happy to see that the Elf clearly recognized her as well.

"Mae govannen! How fares Rúmil?" she greeted him. "A star is shining upon the hour of our meeting," he replied. "I am happy to see you, Eadhild of Rohan." For a moment they just looked at each other, the Elf taking in the subtle changes in the woman's features, and the woman searching in vain for any sign of ageing in him.

"Time has passed," he finally said , and smiled at her again before answering her question. "My young brother fares well. He has recently bonded with a beautiful Elf-maid and they are already expecting their first," he continued, eager to share the good news since he knew Rúmil once had been close to her.

"Rúmil bonded?" she asked, quickly chasing away the sting of jealousy that tugged at her heart, instead blessing the union and in her thoughts congratulating the Elf-maid who now had Orophin's lovely brother as her own, to keep for the eternity their immortal lives seemed to any human.

"Yes," he replied, and seeing her mixed feeling, he withheld the humorous comment he was going to make about rascals finally growing up. He put his hand lightly on her arm, offering silent support, which she gratefully accepted.

It was true that the good news made her sad, because this meant that she was never to meet Rúmil again. Elves often had offspring soon after bonding and were not apt to travel while the Elfling was still young, a period of time that would exceed her own life expectancy by decades.

Curse all knowledge of Elves, she thought, and not for the first time. For since she was acquainted with the ways of the Elves, there was nothing to hope for and this particular representative of the Firstborn was lost to her forever. He had been more than a lover: a friend.

Rúmil bonded, she thought again and shrugged at the pain in her heart. They had not been that close so why should she be shocked? Perhaps because she couldn't imagine that boyish rascal of an Elf as a considerate husband. You've had your double chances at family life, remember? she reminded herself. This was not a time to be bitter.

"Tell your brother that I am very happy for him," she responded, pressing Orophin's hand reassuringly. "May I ask what brings you to this house?"

"The hope of your company, fair lady," he said, lifting her hand to his lips to kiss it. "I am afraid our last meeting was not entirely satisfactory and I would like to make it up to you."

"Orophin!" she said with a giggle, her previous melancholy washed away by his chivalrous gesture. "Your way of 'making up' is somewhat peculiar, but I can assure you that it was a much pleasurable experience..."

"I thank you for your kind words, my lady," he said with an honest smile that would have melted her heart if she had not already been delighted to see him.

"There is also another matter," he continued in a more serious voice, looking a bit embarrassed as he hinted at his companions. Eadhild turned her gaze to the Elves, but quickly looked back at Orophin when the tall one caught her glance. The Elf before her clearly found it troublesome to voice his errand. "Yes?" she said, encouraging him to speak.

"I have come here together with my lord, Celeborn of Lothlórien, once Prince of Doriath," he finally said, in a proud voice that contrasted the slight blush on his cheeks. "My lady Galadriel, whom I believe your people refer to as 'the witch of the enchanted wood', thought he might enjoy some new experiences since he rarely leaves our country, and Rúmil's mouth slipped once, you know how impulsive he is, and he told about this inn, and now my lord would like to..."

"You want me to sleep with him," she interrupted his flow of words, seeing his discomfort.

He flinched and just stared at her. "Do not look so shocked, Orophin!" she said. "I am not the innocent young woman you seduced fifteen years ago! A human life is short and we mature more quickly. Do not fear to speak openly to me about this. Am I right in my assumption?"

"You are," he replied, and then continued, hesitantly, "Will you consider it?"

"I will, and there is no need for you to look guilty. If your lord is anything near as considerate as he is good-looking I will not in any way find it difficult to grant your request."

Orophin looked clearly relieved now, and his face split in a broad grin when she added, "I am quite sure I will not regret it."

She turned to watch her soon to be lover, and this time she did not look away when his glance met her. The tall Elf really looked exquisite. His long hair was a silvery grey with a darker tint at the ears and his face was noble and kind. He had an air of seriousness that signalled that under the silky robes and soft appearance was a fierce warrior not to be taken lightly.

So this was Lord Celeborn! The loathsome official dinners at Thranduil's table had at least taught her the main features of Elven politics, so his name was familiar. But she had not imagined him to be quite as striking. Orophin need not worry, she thought. This would not be difficult at all.

She told Orophin that she wanted to arrange for some refreshments, and would soon be back. On her way to the kitchen, she saw him taking his place at the table and whispering something to his lord that made the tall Elf nod approvingly.

She hummed a merry tune while arranging the season's treat, strawberries, on a tray, and fetching a carafe of potent sweet wine from one of her private barrels in the cellar. The Elven-king had made sure that she would not lack suitable drinks, should he ever choose to visit again. She caught herself wishing that he would.

After setting a small table in Lord Celeborn's room, she returned to the main hall and proceeded towards his table. Apparently, he had been waiting, because as soon as he noticed her, he said something to his companions and then rose to walk gracefully towards her.

Celeborn was majestic. He was awe-inspiring. Eadhild could easily understand why his subjects, when mentioning him, always spoke with reverence and love in their voices. This was an Elf one would do anything for, she thought. He was a true king in every respect and she would be honoured to serve him for a while. She was overwhelmed, and at the same time curious about the feeling the Elf-lord induced in her. Perhaps this was the true magic of the Golden Wood; the love and loyalty its leaders inspired.

She was surprised when he did not stop, but passed her with just a sideways glance that made her follow him, and while he led the way to his room, she thought of his appearance again.

His dark eyes mirrored wisdom beyond comprehension. His movements were slow, flowing and his appearance had nothing of the violent explosiveness always boiling under the skin of Thranduil; it was rather the calmness that showed the vast power of this Elf-lord.

"I am honoured to meet you, my lord," she said modestly when they were alone in his room, suddenly feeling shy.

"I would say the same, miss Eadhild of Rohan," the Elf-lord replied with a smile that eased her mind. "I hope you are not in any way discomforted by this arrangement," he continued, "in which case I will, naturally, withdraw immediately." His gaze became serious, almost penetrating, as if to make sure that he would see the true answer in her heart, regardless of what words would be on her lips.

"Not at all, my lord," she reassured him in a light voice, but in her thoughts thanking him for his tactfulness. "Some wine, perhaps?" She gestured for him to sit down at the small table, which he did with a graceful motion that made the exquisite fabric of his robe shimmer in blue and silver. She filled his glass and he tasted it tentatively, but soon took a larger sip.

"I must say I am most surprised and delighted, miss, to find a fine vintage in a town of Men..." he said questioningly.

"It was a gift, from Greenwood," she replied, not failing to notice the astonishment in the Elf's gaze. "We use it only for special guests." She did not say that it was a personal gift from another Elf-lord, and she did not need to.

"These berries," he continued, changing the subject, "they look like our wild berries but are larger." The quick glance at her bosom made it quite obvious that fruit was far from the only thing on his mind.

"Yes," she replied with an innocent smile, "there are some differences between the treats of Elves and Men, although not too big, I hope. Please taste one."

She gestured towards the small bowl, and watched the Elf-lord as he put the berry into his mouth, closing his eyes for a moment when the taste spread in his mouth. She just smiled. Strawberries had a wonderful effect on Elves, who were not used to them. They seemed to feel the sweetness much stronger than humans did.

"May I?" she said, picking a berry as she leant forward over the table to let him catch a glimpse of her nipples as her décolletage threatened to spill out of the thin white blouse she was wearing. His eyes followed her hands as she sat back and placed the red treat between her lips and slowly sucked it into her mouth. "Mmmm...," she said, exaggerating a little.

Strawberries were her favourite and they were not available very often, but she was also enjoying this little game. "Would you like some more?" she asked him, again bending over across the table, this time to place the berry between his lips, careful to let her fingertip follow and excited at the way he suckled it for the briefest moment.

She watched him as she took another sip of the wine. He definitely did not look quite as serene as before; there was rather a playful touch to his appearance.

"Come sit here beside me," he said softly, patting the empty stool on his left. She went over and sat, just a little bit closer than necessary. This time it was he who fed her the berry, and she who didn't let go of his finger.

She put the next berry between her lips and with a glance challenged him to take it. He leaned in for their first kiss and pushed the strawberry into her mouth, letting his tongue follow as he took possession of her. She parted her lips for him and allowed him to taste her, enjoying the suppleness of the berry, and the forceful, but yet gentle probing of the Elf's tongue. And his large hands on her thighs.

"I think I would like to taste something else now," he whispered in his ear as his right hand moved up to her décolletage and gently began fondling her breasts. "Please do," she said, and placed her right hand on his thigh. He deftly untied the lacings of her blouse and leaned forward to kiss a now taut nipple.

"Mmmm, more strawberries," he purred, letting his tongue trace the outlines of her little berry before he started to nibble and suck at it. She let out a little moan of pleasure and moved her hand further up his thigh, almost touching the bulge that must be there, somewhere under all that cloth.

As smoothly as she could, she slipped down under the table and knelt between his legs. His hands stroked her hair and hers had found their target. She rubbed his arousal gently with one hand, as the other began to snake its way up under his garments. Luckily it was only the soft undertunic that did not part in the middle, and it was wide enough to easily slide up over his knees. She continued to take her time stroking him through the cloth of his breeches and opened the laces only when he began to squirm in his chair.

After freeing him, she immediately took the tip of his arousal into her mouth. For a minute, or a small eternity, she just held him there, firmly between her lips, and indulged in the feeling of his smooth skin and the power that pulsed beneath it. She looked up at him, and seeing that he had closed his eyes and was barely breathing, she took mercy upon him. Teasingly she began caressing the head of his member with her tongue in quick little flicks that made him draw his breath and bury his hands in her hair.

He gasped at the sensation. Not that he had not experienced this particular kind pleasure innumerable times before, but there was something exceedingly erotic in having it performed by a mortal woman. He buried his fingers in her hair as she let her tongue caress him, sometimes slow and gentle, sometimes quicker and more demanding. He grunted in discontent when she interrupted her ministrations and looked him in the eyes. "Perhaps we should move to a more comfortable place?"

The Elf-lord nodded, helped her rise and followed her the few steps to the bed, but before she reached it he embraced her and kissed her hungrily, letting his hands roam over her backside. She held him tightly and pressed her body against his. With a gentleness in stark contrast to the urgency she had felt in his embrace, he undressed her and let her blouse and skirt fall to the floor. He shrugged off his robes in a few swift motions and quickly stepped out of his already unlaced breeches.

He lifted her and carried her the few steps to the bed. She took delight in feeling his strong hands around her body and sighed in anticipation as he lay her down on the bed and covered her with his own. They kissed again and she ran her fingers through his hair that fell over them like a soft silvery curtain. This was what she loved most about Elves, she thought, their hair!

He nudged her knees apart and entered her slowly while they continued kissing. She held onto his firm back and moaned softly as he started to move gently, slowly. He caressed her hair and looked into her eyes with a kindness that was overwhelming.

This was a wise Elf, she thought, the depths of his eyes was immense and she could see love in them. Love for his lady wife, she thought, love for his country, for his people. But also a generosity that allowed some of it to spill over to her, a stranger, in this moment of sharing.

She locked her legs around his waist as he began to thrust quicker, harder, building a tension that soon took them both over the edge. With a last, deep groan, he lay by her side and just held her closely.

As she rose to leave, he pulled her back to kiss her again. "I thank you for your company, miss Eadhild," the Elf-lord said. "Now I know that the rumours of the kindness of certain maidens speak truly. I am delighted to have made your acquaintance."

"As am I, my lord," she replied, addressing him formally again, as she dressed and left him with a curtsy, still smiling.

When she came down into the main hall again, Orophin and the other elves were nowhere to be seen, and it appeared that some of the younger maids were missing as well. She smiled to herself, again fondly remembering her first meeting with him and his younger brother. Then her thoughts went to the Lord of Lórien again, and she felt privileged to have met him. She hoped that his lady would appreciate the strawberry seedling she planned to send with Orophin.

Eadhild slept well that night, content and feeling that the choice she had made to return to the inn was the right one for her, no matter how it appeared in the eyes of others. But she would never regret the years with the Elvenking.