Of Pleasure and Peril

Chapter Ten/?

by Tasmia Gaylord

Rating: Hard NC 17

Warning: graphic S&M type situations but not too
harsh, explicit sex

Disclaimer: The Tolkein characters are borrowed for
private use in this story, I do not claim to own them
and have no intentions of profiting from them

Summary: King Thranduil meets his match in his private
punishment chamber with amazing consequences for all
parties involved

Pairings: Thranduil/OFC , Legolas/OFC Elrond/OFC
Haldir/OFC and perhaps some others, who knows?

Feedback: Post it here or you can send me an email
"Tasmia7@yahoo.com"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Haldir patrolled the eastern shore of the Anduin as he
had been ordered to recently by his Lady, Galadriel,
although his thoughts ever turned to the north western
borders. He frowned, now and then, with unease over
his newly appointed duty. The vulnerability of
Lothlorien to the orcs who more frequently now crept
from the gates of Moria on moonless nights along that
opposite border was a constant worry in his mind. But
he knew there was a purpose behind Galadr's r's request
that was much larger than his understandable concerns
with Moria. In the earlier part of this day he had
thought, perhaps, that his unlooked for presence across
the Anduin to assist the Mirkwood elves in their
ousting of a few score orcs, and warg riders, at Dol
Gurder was the reason the Lady had sent him to this
place. If she had not sent him in this direction he
would never have been aware of the Mirkwood contin
an
and their mission.


"Someone is approaching," she had said, but, not as a
warning or with foresight of doom, if anything, her
voice was relieved but cautiously so, "when they
arrive across the river you must be there to greet
them and bring them directly to me. You will know
who I am talking about."


The messenger had arrived just days before to deliver
her summons to the inner city. She had met with him
alone and, as usual, spoke little and implied much. "I
dare not raise my own hopes, Haldir, I can not say
more for the mirror reveals many mysteries that go
unresolved. My heart could not take another
disappointment in this matter." There was a great
weight in her tone as if many tears unshed were being
held in abeyance for that which was yet unrevealed.
And yet her eyes had twinkled with an inner delight
and satisfaction, which she quickly cloaked before
dismissing him.


No elf in Lorien believed in coincidences or
unforeseeable accidents and Haldir least of all. He
knew his enemies well and it had been centuries of
time since he had been surprised by their offensive
moves against his beloved home, her people and his
Lady. Even the larger, alien breed of orc that he
fought off alongside of his valiant neighbor, Legolas,
that morning, did not surprise him. They behaved as
dully and deliberately as any other orc he had
encountered. Therefore, he knew it was no accident
that he was nearby when the fighting began and the
presence of himself and his guards proved crucial, but
surely Galadriel would have mentioned the Mirkwood elf
prince by name, if he was the "approaching someone,"
for he was no stranger to the Lorien family; although
he had never traveled within the borders of the Forest
of Light. Haldir had visited Mirkwood in the past and
had at other occasions met with various citizens from
Thranduil's Kingdom as they traveled along the Anduin
to some southern destination point. There had been no
need, therefore, to demand that Legolas follow him
into the heart of Lothlorien, of that he felt sure.
"You will know whom I am talking about," she had said.
He trusted his own instincts in this decision.


The night grew darker and the stars began to pinprick
the deep blue evening sky as Haldir softly stepped
through the strange landscape of the southwestern edge
of Mirkwooresorest and he felt mot eat ease in the
deepening shadows. If there was danger about he was
more prepared for it than any human, or even most
other elves, for that matter, for he was as
comfortable in the dark as he was in the full light of
day. In fact, he preferred to hunt game or orc on
moonless nights. He knew that the enemies of the
elven kind believed that the full moon was the helper
of all who opposed Sauron and avoided prowling about
on nights when the light was brightest. Yet, for a
guardian of Lorien, a clear, moonless night that
allowed the stars to reveal themselves with all their
fire and majesty were the best nights for hunting any
game, or enemy, or strange visitor to Caras Galadhon.
Starlight revealed more than a mere clearly defined
outline of a creature who traveled through the night;
the star shine opened his vision to subtle emanations
from forest, field and even small streams, that could
reveal a recent visit by a warm-blooded body or the
pres of of a beast, man, orc or dwarf hidden within
brush or behind trees. If there were travelers about
in this thickly treed country they were too far away
for him to detect. But he kept himself fully alert
and did not fall into his usual walking, dreamless
sleep that night as diligently he followed the wishes
of his Lady, Galadriel, and patrolled the alien land.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Thranduil prowled the tunnels restlessly as he sought
some measure of relief from worry over the fate of the
elleth, Tulare, and the possible motive of her
unlikely rescuer, Averfad. His audience with Arthame
had only agitated him further. The quaking fool was
obviously hiding something as he denied repeatedly
having any knowledge of his daughter's present
whereabouts or possible direction she would have taken
if she had, indeed, fled the kingdom. After
satisfying himself, by his own search for the elf
maiden, and her house elf, that they were truly not
within the walls of his kingdom he recalled every word
he could from the worthless elf's lips.


"My lord," Arthame assured the king, "Tulare has never
been far from either mine or her mother's sight in all
the days of her young life. And she has always
avoided Averfad's company if it could be helped. She
knows naught of the world outside of these walls." His
disgraced treasurer wiped his mouth often, his mouth
so dry that his lips stuck to his teeth when he spoke.
Thranduil probed him as gently as possible now. His
earlier rage at the theft from his treasury had not
only dissipated but had turned into sympathy for a
fellow doting father. He had even returned the
pilfered buckle to Arthame; who drew in his breath at
the gift. The leather belt had been replaced with a
sash woven of mithril threads with tiny crystal beads
woven into the mesh. "What does this mean, Sire?" he
had asked with hope flickering in his beady, close-set
eyes.


"That you are pardoned, reinstated to your position;
your salary will be doubled and your living quarters
upgraded accordingly," Thranduil answered while
watching the expression on Arthame's face as if clues
could be found more clearly there once his fears were
relieved. But, if anything, his treasurer grew even
more guarded and shifty eyed.


"And to what do I owe this pardon, Sire?" he asked
while visibly cowering from an expected blow.
Thranduil's eyes narrowed with suspicion but he kept
his voice calm.


"Let us just say that Tulare is far more worthy of
that trinket than any human or dwarf I may have
someday been obliged to offer it to as payment for
some service or supply. She will be found, of that I
have no doubt, and you may take her home. I have no
reason to punish either of you for your understandable
devotion to your daughter." He finally sent Arthame
back to his home and set several elves nearby to watch
his movements. He felt sure that if Tulare was being
hidden nearby then her father would lead them to her.


Averfad's father, Dinwilya, was found not far from the
forest's edge. The elves who had found him were
loathe to approach the king with the news that the
wild wood elf who had at first acquiesced almost
gratefully to their request to follow them back into
the guarded kingdom had managed to disappear into the
night before they could bring him over the bridge and
into the city itself. For a while he had chatted with
them pleasantly, as they led him along, and he had
almost bragged about how they would never had found
him if he had not wanted to be found. "My daughter
and I," he explained, "will have to find new lodgings
now that her employer has been disgraced and exiled.
Methinks a traditional elf hut would suit the two of
us now that the nearby lands have been scoured of
spiders and wolves. But these woods are unfamiliar to
me and I am afraid I took a few wrong turns and lost
my way."


But, as the elves had to eventually explain to their
king, he paused often and looked about himself
anxiously and when they questioned his behavior he
told them that after so many years underground his
vision and hearing had grown dull and unreliable.
Perhaps living outside the safety of the underground
realm was not so well thought out, after all, he would
say with a grim chuckle before proceeding reluctantly
onward. However, the closer they drew to the river
and the bridge the more agitated he became; belying
his stammering, dithering explanations of feeling
fearful in an alien forest. They were in sight of the
forest edge when he suddenly shrieked aloud, "Spider!"
and flew up into a tree while Thranduil's elves
laughed at the nervous elf and derided him loudly from
below. There was no sign of spider, or any other
creature, they assured him, but he gave no reply.
Finally one of the elves climbed up into the branches
of the tree, which Dinwilya had climbed, but the wood
elf was gone. In that particular part of the forest
surrounding the kingdom grew many sturdy oak trees
whose branches interlaced to form a canopy where
squirrels and possum could travel unmolested far above
the ground and prowling predators. Dinwilya obviously
had hopped into the next tred thd then the next while
the elves who waited below the first one called for
him to come down. No one had asked him the whereabouts
of either his daughter or Tulare, or had, in fact,
even mentioned their names.


Thranduil dismissed the behavior of the wood elf as
peculiar but understandable. Once Arthame had been
sentenced there would be no cozy niche for the father
of the treasurer's hired help to rest within. A night
spent in the forest after so many hundred years below
the surface would unnerve many an elf. And, as far as
the king was aware, Dinwilya had never taken any time
to familiarize himself with the forested places near
his new home once he had settled himself comfortably
within its solid walls. He was irritated by the news
but not infuriated as the elves who had been sent to
find Dinwilya had feared. He dismissed them and set
out to look within the underground community himself
before finally surrendering to the fact that the elf
maiden was not being hidden by any of his subjects.
He would have felt it within his bones and blood if
that were true; his subjects were not capable of
hiding much from him when he was determined to find
answers. She was gohe mhe must accept it.


Later, in his bed, he found it impossible to find any
respite from his wild imaginings over the fate of the
elleth. He remembered being told of a theft of a boat
and he pictured Tulare floating face down as her
lifeless, drowned body traveled the swift current of
the River Running and his heart pounded madly within
his chest at the vision. He had risen and ordered
Thole to send several swift boats loaded with his most
water crafty elves to seek every inch of shoreline
between the river gates and the swampy marshland it
would finally spill itself into. He imagined them
bringing her back all wetted and muddy and grateful to
be alive. He could see her on her knees before him,
sobbing, begging for mercy.


"Mercy," he muttered aloud, "I will show her no mercy
if I get my hands on her again. I will flay her
buttocks to ribbons for the trouble she has put me
through." He flung himself from the bed and threw
himself onto the bench near his fireplace and stared
darkly into the flames while willing himself back into
balance. His groin pounded with heat at the thought
of Tulare stretched beneath him and his lash. It was
useless. The imaginings may have ceased but the
memories came flooding in to replace them. He felt
his erection straining against the inside of his pants
as it sought release, for here, in the quiet privacy
of his own rooms, there was nothing to prevent him
reliving that night in his dungeon. Thranduil strove
with himself as he firmly attempted to picture the
elleth that morning at breakfast and how young,
innocent, and undeserving of his brutal handling he
realized her to be. But the way her face appeared,
with her deep green eyes glazed with desire, as he
fondled her punished private parts in the chambers
below pushed itself in front of the view he fought to
bring into his mind. Unbidden arose the memory of her
slickened, swollen nether lips as they parted beneath
his brutal fingers and the moans that came from her
soft, pink mouth as she raised her pelvis to assist
him.


He stood and nearly ripped the lacings of his leggings
apart as he yanked and pulled at them in an effort to
release his stifled erection from their smothering
prison. He held himself and stroked the pulsing
member but there was no relief, only further agitation
and frustration, and he finally tucked himself back
into place, retied the laces, drew on his riding boots
and left his chambers and its unnerving lack of
distractions.


"I will hunt her down and find her myself," he said to
no one as he flew down the halls and out to the
stables. His horse was brought to him and he swiftly
departed down the firmly packed road that ran parallel
to the river for the barge men to guide their rafts
with horses, or by the power of their own stout arms
by poles or rope, as they walked alongside them. He
felt instantly calmer and even pleasant-hearted as the
stars revealed themselves throughout his ride. He
soon passed the elves he had sent to search the river
for they were following his instructions to slowly
search every inch along the sandy banks on either side
of the River Running.


As the light began to grow, and his surroundings began
to be covered with their usual morning mistiness, he
slowed his horse and kept his eyes on the soft sand of
the river banks hoping to discover the tell tale signs
of a boat having been drawn ashore. He assumed they
would try to make camp through the night, and possibly
light a fire for safety, and he dismounted his horse
and led it along behind him as he used all of his
senses in an effort to detect the presence of the
runaway elleths. He would be able to smell if there
had been a small fire or hear if the forest wildlife
felt disturbed by the presence of elf-maidens on the
loose.


The heat from his unwelcome arousal during the night
had completely cooled and he felt clear headed and
purposeful at his self-appointed task. But as the sun
began to touch the treetops and the birdsong rose to
its crescendo about him his mind began to wander again
as he rehearsed his eventual discovery of the
disobedient runaway. 'I told her to wait right
there,' he reminded himself, 'I told her I would
return. She must be punished for not doing as she was
told. She will pay for this.' This idea seemed to
help him focus more clearly on his search and he
repeated it to himself often. She would pay for the
fear he had experienced, she would pay for the bother
and the expense and the waste of his valuable time
away from his city and his worthy, because more
obedient, subjects. So he told himself, as he grew
more irritated with his situation, and the ludicrous
position he found himself in, leading a horse down a
dusty road to search for the missing elleth as if she
were a valuable treasure.


He imagined finding her curled next to a cold campfire
and how she would startle with alarm when he
approached her and lifted her up to his horse to
return her to her home. Before he could stop himself
the heat flared up again and his loins grew warm as he
pictured her seated before him on the long ride home,
his arms about her small, slim form. Now he was
furious with both himself and her as he fought yet
again to control his thoughts and concentrate on his
hunt.

'I will throw her over the horse face down and lift
her skirts and redden her bottom all the way home to
Mirkwood proper, she will not sit for weeks, that
should teach her to avoid any further performances of
this like again!' He drew his horse a little further
off the road and broke a small, thin leafless branch
from a bush beside the river. He slapped it against
his thigh and the sound it made, a soft "thwack,"
delighted him and aroused him even further. 'This
should get her attention,' he told himself. Suddenly,
he did not mind the pulsing pressure between his legs
any more, in fact, he was glad for it. Glad for it.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Haldir spent the following day in careful patrol of
the area around Dol Gurder. He traveled in concentric
circles and now and again would meet up with the
Mirkwood elves left behind by Legolas or his own
Galadhrim who slipped in and out of the shadowy forest
unseen and unheard by all but his keen eyes and ears.
The day melted into evening and still no visitors
approached that he could tell of. He settled himself
near the most well kept and visible trails that still
were used for sporadic visits or commerce between
Lorien and the north. He had placed several of his
own border guards near any other trail that may be
used by whatever rare traveler was headed this way and
could find no further guidance from the stars as to
what other choice he may have to prevent any one from
slipping past him.


Crickets chirped in the fields nearby, frogs sang by
the riverbanks and the soft noises of night hunting
animals made his ears twitch occasionally, although
not often. It took time to feel the rhythms and the
music of this forest but, once he had, he settled more
comfortably on the large branching trunk he chose as
his watching post for that night. Among the
occasional chirp, cheep, or mournful hoot from a
passing owl, Haldir could distinguish the signals from
his own Galadrim guards as they communicated to him
and each other their positions and conditions. All
was well, all was quiet, and the forest sang itself to
sleep and Haldir waited.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


When night fell Thranduil pressed his exhausted horse
forward along the river road. All that long day he
had swung internally between wretchedness and
determination. There was no sign of makeshift camps or
beached watercraft along the way but he did not let
that discourage him. He would find her. She could not
have traveled so far from Mirkwood that he could not
find her.