Mary Goes to Mirkwood

Chapter 17 / ?

Authored by: Mary Aseltyne, Malinorne and Sheraiah

Pairings: King Thranduil/OFC, Legolas/OFC

Warnings: NC-17; stormy sex / other adult sexual situations/ nudity-- and LOTS of it!

Disclaimer: Just playing with Tolkien characters, for fun, and not profit, do not claim to have created them. Thaladir, the king's seneschal, is our own creation. Anarion, Mal's private guard, is just that. Her own.

Summary: Mal spends time with Thranduil. Sheraiah makes up with Legolas. Mary has an interesting conversation with Erestor.


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mal ~

It took a few days more before I finally found a clue to the king's behaviour, a possible explanation for why he said he wanted me to stay with him, but seemed to shun my presence, and had pushed me away when I tried to snuggle up to him some days ago.

Ithilwen was the one to finally speak out, one anoonnoon while plaiting my hair. She enjoyed doing it and these moments of preparation for dinner or other occasions had slowly turned into time for informal conversation. I had discovered early on that she was not comfortable discussing her employer, but as the king was on my mind more often than not, I couldn't help bringing him up now and then. Anth Mth Mary gone, I found myself complaining to the elf-maid.

"It is well known in these halls that negotiations, as well as the prolonged stay of unwanted guests, tend to have a negative effect on His Majesty's mood," she replied. "He can become most difficult." Seeing my quizzical expression, she added, somewhat hesitantly, "I meant to say that he becomes irritable and not easy to deal with." It had not occurred to me to ever believe the king "easy to deal with", so I still didn't understand what she was trying to get through to me. I asked her to speak more plainly.

She continued braiding my hair in silence, but finally sighed and burst out in a long string of words, as if she wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. "His Majesty can become violent. You will not want to meet him until the effect has worn off. Please try to stay away from him at such times, they occur not too often. But this appears to be a particularly bad time, with two unwanted situations coinciding, not to mention the unfortunate and untimely departure of your friend, Mary. Do take care, I beg you."

She never raised her voice, but towards the end of this speech it trailed off into inaudible mutterings. I was shocked by her words and turned around to look at her, hoping that more information could be deducted from her facial expression. What did she mean? Was she suggesting that the king could be so upset about the present situation that he would actually go crazy and hit, or even kill, people? Had she herself been the target of Thranduil's anger?

Apparently my reaction was too strong this time, as Ithilwen now tried to calm me instead. "He has never lost his temper so completely as to strike a female, but it is still not advisable to be near him. I ask forgiveness for saying too much, but do heed my advice, my lady."

I promised to do so, and repeated it to her as she was leaving the room, but her words had not lessened my longing to be close to the king. I did not want to make any effort at all to stay away from Thranduil, but it appeared I didn't need to either. He was quite effectively taking care of that himself. But I was thankful for Ithilwen's information, which explained at least some of the king's behaviour.

I was on my way to the study, when I was approached by Thaladir, who told me to turn back to my room again. "His Majesty will want to see you before dinner, so I believe it advisable for you to abide his coming in your quarters." The coldness of his voice surprised me and took away some of the joy I felt at hearing that the king wanted my company. The seneschal seemed to misinterpret my mixed reaction and added, firmly, "I insist upon it, and it is your duty to do as you are told." He fastened his eyes on me, suddenly looking more worried than his words had implied, and I thought he was going to add something, but he didn't. Instead he turned and marched off in the direction of the throne room as soon as I had said "Yes, Your Excellency".

Expectantly I returned to my room, happy to no end that the king wanted to see me. Ithilwen came back and helped me put on the green dress, my favourite one and the first Thranduil had presented me with in Mirkwood. I thought about the wonderful and naughty things of that morning and hoped he would appreciate the gesture. The elf-maid looked nervous when she left me, but I assured her that I would be fine.

I would. The king was coming to me, and we would kiss passionately and he would declare his eternal love for me and everything would be like it was before, no, better, he would be more gentle, and considerate, and loving. I didn't really believe it, and perhaps didn't even want him to be different, but the rose-coloured dreams kept the butterflies in my stomach at bay.


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mary ~

"Good afternoon, Master Erestor," I said to the librarian as I handed him the book I had borrowed from Glorfindel. "I was told to give this to you, personally." After I was sure he had it securely in hand, I looked around at the shelves and prepared myself to ask if I could browse around the stacks for a little while. It was wonderful to finally feel comfortable in Rivendell after all the miserable days I had spent moping about in my room, missing the king. I wished, again, that I had come here sooner.

He carefully inspected the book I had given him before putting it to the side, and, before I could make my request, he looked at me with the same careful attention he had just given the precious volume of Gondorian history.

"I hear you have been wreaking havoc in Thranduil's halls," he said quietly after completing his inventory of me in a head to toe sweep with his captivating eyes. "A really hot new item in the king's treasureve, ve, or so I have been advised."

I was floored by his words. Wreaking havoc? I could not imagine who had been tattling on me here in The Last Homely House and I felt accused of a crime I had not committed. At least, not on purpose. And who would refer to me as a 'hot item'? That was too absurd. And I obviously was not in the king's treasure trove, whatever that meant.

"Did Legolas tell you all that?" I asked at last, when I was over my shock at his statement. I could not think of who else would know about my time in Mirkwood, although I felt hurt that the prince would say such things about me.

But Erestor shook his head negatively as he turned back to his beloved books. He lifted a large stack from the top of a small cart onto his arm and began shelving them.

"No, not the princeling," he answered after a moment as he worked, "he is far too closemouthed about his father's daily household troubles and travails, too well-trained, that one, to carry tales out of doors." His quick, delightfully graceful technique with the books was enthralling. I watched his hands seem to caress the spine and cover of each individual volume as he handled them and I wondered what those same hands would feel like if they were on me. I thought they would be very unlike Thranduil's.

I immediately felt warm and then very embarrassed in case this elf was a mind-reader. But Erestor seemed unaffected. If I was lucky, he had not read my thoughts, as I was learning that not all elves can. If I was not lucky, he was probably too well-bred to indicate that he knew what I had just pictured, because he did not even twitch an eyelash. The king would have given me a look, or at least a smirk.

Patiently, I waited for him to tell me who had said such things about me, but he ignored me as he kept busy with his task at hand. "Was it Lord Elrond?" I asked, finally breaking the silence. Erestor shook his head again. Then he looked over at me.

"It was Thaladir," he said, before ducking his head back down to the cart where he selected a few slender volumes, which needed to go on a higher shelf than he could reach without assistance. I stared as he pulled a small, round stool over to where he needed it and, after climbing upon it, stood on tiptoe to place the books away. I was too stunned by his reply to do otherwise.

"When did you talk to Thaladir?" I could not understand what he had meant. Erestor had not traveled to Mirkwood since I had come there and the seneschal certainly had not traveled much further than just outside the great gates. If that far. "How?" I added.

"Oh," replied Erestor, after descending from the stool, "the usual way." His eyes twinkled as he lifted a hand to his head and wiggled his fingers. "The Elven Brain Wave Hotline." He chuckled as he said it then added, "He found that quite amusing." He made his fingers wiggle again. "Quite amusing."

"Who?" I asked. "Thaladir?" The whole conversation had gone from odd to strange and now to bizarre. Thaladir was amused by my finger wiggling?

"How did he know?" I asked. Then I remembered when I had said that, and to whom I had said it, and I added, "Oh, do you mean Lord Elrond?" Erestor had turned away from me again to attend to his duties with the book cart, but he answered after a pause, although it seemed he was speaking more to himself than to me.

"No, no, not Thaladir, come to think of it, no, it was Thranduil," Erestor answered while lifting his hand to wiggle his fingers one more time. "He really thought that was clever of you, to have figured that out. Quite clever, indeed." He chuckled away to himself contentedly as he loaded yet more books on his arm and swiftly made them disappear into the bookcases.

"Lord Elrond must have told Thranduil about it, then," I replied. "Because he was the only elf in the room at the time, who saw me doing that." It felt eerie, knowing I was being discussed telepathically. It felt crazy discussing the fact as if it were a common and ordinary occurrence in my life. But it felt good knowing the king had called me clever.

"I would not be so sure of that, my lady," said Erestor, "if I were you." I sat down hard on the little stool. What was he saying? I was very sure I had been alone with Elrond. I though hard about it. There was no place I could think of where someone might have been hidden, and peeking at us, in the elf lord's room.

"Are you telling me there were other elves in Lord Elrond's bedchamber?" I felt violated all of a sudden, but I could not really believe it. Erestor sidled near me.

"No," he whispered, "no, not exactly in the bedchamber, not with you, physically." He turned away again and disappeared behind a tall bookcase. Not exactly? I could hear the sounds made by the swiftly shelved books and waited for him to return.

He returned, then flashed a brief grin at me, with raised eyebrows and a knowing look, before stooping back to his cart. When he straightened up, I moved quickly to block him from moving anywhere, and looked straight into in his clear, intelligent eyes.

"Tell me more," I said. "About what you and Thaladir, or Thranduil, or whoever, have been..." I raised my hands to my forehead and wiggled my fingers at him to demonstrate before concluding, "chatting about in regards to me. And what else the king knows about what happened in Lord Elrond's bedchamber. And anything else you can think of that you would want to know," I came within inches of him before concluding, "if you were me."

Erestor invited me to his study to answer my questions. As we walked through the library, he stopped an elleth who was passing by with an empty book cart and instructed her to bring us tea. He opened the door and gestured for me to enter, but I froze in place when I saw the room before me. It was an exact duplicate of Thranduil's study in Mirkwood. At least it appeared so at first glance.

After I took a deep breath and entered, I changed my mind. It was close, but this is Rivendell. There were no torches on the walls, there were large, floor-to-ceiling windows, shuttered now against the storms, and there was a carpet on the floor. But the desk was placed in the same area as in the king's study and the massive chair behind it looked as rock-hard and uncomfortable as only the king would appreciate. As the door closed behind us, I suddenly did not feel as if I was in a lib any anymore.

"Please," said Erestor, "have a seat." He gestured toward a small leather-covered sofa set up against a wall. It looked only slightly more comfortable than the desk chair. The elleth returned with a tea tray carefully balanced on the slanted top of the same book cart she had been pushing through the library.

She was quickly dismissed and I accepted a cup from Erestor's hands. For a brief moment, his fingers touched mine and I marveled at the smooth texture of his skin. I could not drink my tea, however, because I was assaulted from within by a sensation of the same sort that I had felt now on several different occasions since the first moments that I had arrived in Rivendell; another wave of emotion similar to the irritation I had felt when Elrond was carrying me, or when the twins had begun to fondle me, but this time it felt different, and more intense.


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mal ~

I couldn't sit still while I waited, so I walked back and forth between the bed and the desk, the beech-trees and the sea, and finally stood at the window, gazing out into the garden as I had so many times before. Though snow had not yet fallen, it was the beginning of winter already. The light that filtered though the stained glass was faint this time of the year, but I was grateful for its mildness, which soothed and calmed my soul. I knew it would be necessary very soon.

I had barely finished that thought when I was awaked by the sound of Thranduil's voice, muffled by the rock walls, but very audible. I ran to the door and peeked out, and heard his thundering voice again.

"Where is my concubine? I want her NOW!"

long before I could see them, I heard them coming around the corner in the corridor leading to the private areas of the palace. The king was shouting impatiently, loud, almost roaring, and the seneschal mumbling something inaudible. Thranduil was striding at a quick pace, with long steps and his hair flying behind him. His hands were tight fists and his expression resolute. His eyes were shooting flames. He looked deadly, and absolutely terrific.

The seneschal was tagging along his king, mumbling and whispering as if trying to calm him, and now and then he got hold of the king's sleeve, but was impatiently shaken off. Thaladir looked worried, but not more than he usually does when something isn't in perfect order, so I decided the situation was not new to him. Several times he motioned for me to get into my room, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't take my eyes off the Elvenking's striking appearance.

"Thranduil!"

The seneschal's voice was heard, not loud, but very different from how he usually sounded. An order, not a formal request. This was king Oropher's general now, not the scholarly palace counsellor. Apparently it took the king with surprise, because he stopped immediately, as if by backbone reaction, rather than conscious decision. Thaladir was at his side in an instant, speaking hurriedly and in a strained voice.

"No, Thranduil Oropherion, I forbid it. You cannot go to her in this manner. She is mortal."

The king cast him an angry glance and was on the move again. This time he directed his gaze at me and its intensity made me breathe harder. My heart was already beating like that of a small mammal. I wanted to run into his arms, and to back off and disappear. I was stunned and did nothing, just stared at this creature of raw energy and beauty who had his aim set on me.

Vaguely I heard Thaladir cry out, "She is frail!"

"No," came the answer from the king, in a low voice, despite his agitated state. "She is not. I tested her well before I chose her." Then the storm was upon me.


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Sheraiah ~

I had decided that I truly hated the horrible weather. It was depressing me and keeping me from exploring the parts of Rivendell that I had not yet seen and my thoughts were dark as I sat on the window seat in my room and watched the afternoon downpour. I sighed and pulled my blanket more snugly around me. Elves might not feel cold, but I did. I looked over at the table where my laptop sat. I should have been writing, as that was what I had told Legolas I was going to do, but I couldn’t muster the energy at the moment.

Legolas was my current bright spot during the gloomy days. He had been true to his word and had explained his standoffish behavior. Now that I understood that it was due to his Mirkwood culture and upbringing and not meant as a slight to me, I had relaxed considerably. He, in turn, had begun treating me as a friend rather than an acquaintance in public, which satisfied me. The making up part had been wonderful too. I shivered, but not from cold, at my very vivid recollection of our reconciliation.

“So, we are now friends again?” Legolas had asked, that night after our long talk, lightly stroking my cheek with the back of his hand, leaning forward slightly from his perch opposite me on the window seat.

“We were never not friends, as far as I was concerned. I was just pissed off at you.” I couldn’t help but smile at him and he smiled in return. Good God, he had a gorgeous smile!

“And you are no longer ‘pissed off’, then?” The hand that had been stroking my cheek swept down under my chin and then his fingers brushed across my lips.

“No, you’re forgiven,” I managed to say, despite the fact that he was making it a bit difficult for me to think, much less talk.

“Good. I would have us reconciled.” He leaned close, just barely brushing his lips across my cheekbone.

“Me too,” I whispered. Oh, how I had missed this! Legolas was addictive, and it had been too long since I had had my fix. By that point, I wanted him so badly that it hurt.

He pulled back, giving me that incredible smile again, and rose to his feet. As I watched, he walked over to the door and locked it. I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. He saw it as soon as he turned and the smug expression was back on his face. My grin turned evil. He was going to pay for that smug little smile of his.

I stood up and met him at the half way point between us. I could tell my boldness surprised him a bit. That was all to the goo wan wanted him to remember that it was an unpredictable human that he was dealing with. I cocked my head at him, my grin returning.

“I think you’re a bit overdressed.” He looked a bit taken aback, and my grin widened.

“If that is the case," he replied, "then both of us are overdressed.” He reached for me, and I stepped back quickly.

“Un-huh. You first.” His eyebrows hit his hairline, but he complied. Legolas stripped slowly, first his tunic, then his boots. When he was clad only in his breeches, he stretched like a cat, then ran his hand down his chest and firmly muscled stomach, slowly, to the laces of his breeches. He slowly untied the laces, and sinuously slid out of the breeches, reminding me yet again of a panther in his grace and the quiet strength of his body. He cast them aside and stood, looking at me expectantly. He was beyond gorgeous and fully aroused.

I smiled, but made no move to eliminate any of my clothing. I stepped closer to him and ran my hand down the same path his had taken when he’d removed his pants. His eyes fluttered closed at my touch, and then snapped open again when my hand closed around his hardness. His hand came up to cup my breast, but I grasped his wrist and pushed his arm back to his side.

“Behave yourself or you’re going to be alone doing the Five-Knuckle Shuffle.” The eyebrows hit the hairline again, but he held his tongue, his expression amused.

I grasped him again and grinned when I saw his eyes shut and his teeth catch his lower lip. I stroked a few times, and then ran my fingertips down the ridge along the underside of his arousal. He flinched, then stilled, his breathing markedly increasing in pace. I very lightly stroked the head with the tip of my index finger and a sound that was remarkably like a whimper escaped him. I bit my own lip to keep from laughing and abruptly released him, moving around to stand behind him, dragging my hand over his abdomen as I went.

He was as taut as the string of his bow, but he made no move or protest. Must have been the warrior training, I mused, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. Once behind him, I lifted his thick mane of hair and pushed it over his shoulder, baring his neck and back. I ran the tip of my tongue along his spine and up his neck to the base of his skull, rising up on my tiptoes to reach it. A swift intake of breath was the only sound he made. I stepped back again, and removed my clothing. I could see him forcibly restraining himself from turning and had to stifle a chuckle. I was getting a kick out of teasing him. Oh, I knew I’d pay for it later, but it was fun now.

Once the last of my clothes hit the floor, I stepped close to him again, barely brushing my nipples across his back. Something that sounded suspiciously like a curse word escaped him then and I did laugh. I pressed myself fully up against his back then, mnds nds sliding across his chest to toy with his nipples. He groaned and his head fell back. Still playing with his left nipple with one hand, I slid the other down his stomach and grasped him again. He hissed through his teeth and began to thrust into my hand. I nipped and sucked at his shoulder blade until he shuddered.

“Enough!” He fairly roared, spinning around and scooping me up in his arms. I barely had time for a surprised squeak before I found myself on my back on the bed and then his lips and hands were everywhere. His fingers slid into my folds and I arched under his hand. Quickly, he reversed our positions and grasped my hips, lowering me onto him and impaling me. We both stilled for a moment, uning ing for things to end too quickly, and our eyes met. He smiled again and gripped my hip with one hand, the fingers of his other finding the center of my pleasure.

“Ride me. I want to watch you come.” His look turned fierce then and his fingers clenched on my hip. He thrust up into me, hard, making me gasp. Then it was all movement, and my gasps mingled with his growls, and then everything exploded in blinding pleasure. From far away I could hear his voice crying out in Sindarin, mingling with mine crying out in a mixture of several languages. I floated back to awareness, held close in the crook of his arm, his body warm against mine.

A hand to my shoulder pulled me back into the present from my memories of that night and I looked up into Legolas’ smiling eyes.

“I would ask what you were thinking of, if it were not rather obvious.” Before I could ask him to explain that remark, he lifted me, settling me into his lap, and kissed me soundly. “You have been brooding again. I think I may have a cure for that.”

“Really? Tell me more,” I replied, a smile forming on my lips.

“I would rather show you.” He grinned at me, his eyes twinkling. We didn’t speak at all for a good while.


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mal ~

With a feral growl Thranduil threw himself at me, much the way he had done at our first encounter, but after the initial impact, this time I found myself not pressed up against the wall, but down onto the soft mattress of my four-poster. He kissed me wildly, devouring my mouth and pulling at my clothes with a fervour that would have frightened me had I not been waiting so long for him to come to me.

Hastily he shoved my skirt up to my waist, not an easy feat when I was crushed beneath him. I heard the fabric rip, and seconds after, a similar sound that must have been his pants being torn as well. I had not imagined it like this, but I was ready nevertheless, and though he entered me without further preparation I felt no discomfort. I was intoxicated both by his nearness and all the emotions that rushed and pulsated through me during our desperate coupling.

It was not a sweet reunion, and yet I found it extremely satisfying. I wanted to laugh, and cry, as I held on to him, and afterwards, when my crazily pounding heart had reached a more normal pace, I couldn't help myself. Bubbling happiness overwhelmed me and I began to laugh. It was absurd, but I couldn't stop until the king lifted his head and kissed me. His eyes glittered like a cloudless night sky and I could tell that he enjoyed seeing me like this.

With a contented sigh, the Elvenking sank back onto my chest again and I began to run my fingers through his hair. I can never get enough of the way it feels, like the lightest caress, so soft. After a while, I squirmed and wriggled my way towards the headboard, so that I was half reclining against the pillows, with Thranduil's head on my belly. I stroked his hair and ears and he let out another sigh, and then turned to lie on his back, resting in my lap now. Just watching his beautifuce mce made me happy, and I wanted to sing.

I never thought I would have the nerve to do it, to sing in the presence of an elf. Their voices are so clear, so perfectly tuneful, that any human must sound like a croaking raven to them. But it didn't matter to me at that moment. I felt safe holding and caressing the king like a sleeping child. Hesitantly I began to sing my favourite lullaby, a silly little song about a mother troll who puts her eleven troll babies to sleep by tying up theirls als and singing funny words to them. Silly, yes, but the melody is pleasant, and I hoped Thranduil wouldn't ask for a translation.

At first he seemed to be asleep, or just dreaming with his eyes closed. His breathing became calm and even, and he showed no reaction to my light caresses over his forehead. Then I heard, or perhaps rather felt, that low purring I had experienced once before, in another world, another time. Again I marvelled at the thought of the Mirkwood king's complexity; of how the deadly black panther and this affectionately purring cat could share the same mind, the same body.

Then he opened one green eye and looked at me, narrowing it to a slit before he spoke, gravely but with more than a hint of amusement in his voice. "So, my concubine thinks I am a troll?" Of course he didn't need a spoken translation to understand the song; I should have guessed that the images he could see in my mind would be more than enough.

"No, of course not, I'm sorry," I said and removed my hand from his hair, suddenly embarrassed with my choice of song.

He reached up and caught my hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly for a moment before turning over instantly and straddling me, now holding me pinned against the mattress with both my wrists over my head. I shivered when he bent over and breathed in my ear. "What if I am? A big mean troll, who has just caught a maiden."

Our lovemaking was slow this time, considerate, affectionate and just what I needed to feel that all was well again. I was in the halls of Mirkwood and I belonged here, with the Elvenking, at least for now.

I think I fell asleep for a short while, because it was clearly evening, though not entirely dark, when I realized that the king was sitting beside me, turning the remains of the green dress in his hands, seemingly astonished at the pitiful state it was in.

"It was not my meaning to cause this destruction," he said with an amused smile on his lips. "I will have some more dresses made for you, and at least two of this colour." I nodded happily, and he continued. "But I think we shall both be excused from dinner tonight. I do not wish to expose you to foreign eyes."

"Thaladir!" the king called out suddenly, and I was surprised to see the seneschal slip into the room almost at once. He seemed to quickly assess the scene before him and I could see that he was relieved. I winked at him, which made his eyebrow twitch before he turned his full attention to his king. "Yes, my lord, you called?" he said in that ridiculously perfect, reserved manner I have otherwise only seen in English butlers V. V.

"Bring us two robes," the king replied. "And have a light meal served in my bathing chamber." He turned his gaze to me and for an instant I could see the familiar flicker in them. "Not too soon," he added, looking at Thaladir again," I believe we shall wish to bathe thoroughly first." I had to stifle a giggle at the way the seneschal smirked knowingly at his king's mention of the "thorough bath". It made me feel very hot, again.

"Certainly, my lord," Thaladir said and nodded. Before he turned to leave, he winked back at me, and I knew I could look forward to many pleasant hours in the king's company.


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Sheraiah ~

Towards evening, Legolas and I had resumed our place in the window seat. He liked watching the rain and lightening, so when we weren’t otherwise occupied, we could be found in my window seat doing just that. As sick as I was of the storms, it really wasn’t a hardship to be with him. He had seen and done more than I could ever imagine and would tell me of his adventures for hours. I never got tired of that, it made good story fodder, and he never repeated an adventure. In truth, I just liked listening to him talk. He could have been talking about the current grape crop in Dale and I wouldn’t have cared.

He had fallen silent and I could tell that he was thinking hard about something. I waited, letting him choose his own time to tell me what was on his mind. I had learned that this was the best way to get him to talk to me. I really didn’t want to fight with him anymore if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Abruptly, he glanced down at me and smiled.

“Rai, I may have to go back home when the rains end. I would like you to come with me.” My mouth dropped open and he chuckled, gently pushing my chin up with his fingertips. “Close your mouth, Rai. I would not want you to swallow an insect.”

“I don’t fly, Legolas. I let those insane excuses for twin elves talk me into it once and I will never do it again except to get home and that‘s going to be bad enough. I’d love to go with you, but I’m not subjecting myself to that until I absolutely have to.” He shook his head, smiling slightly. I scowled at him.

“Rai, I would be with you every second. You know that I would never allow anything to harm you.” He was being very persuasive, but I wasn’t about to back down.

“No. I hate heights, Legolas. I really hate them. I don’t even do step ladders.” I was tensing, and I knew he could feel it. He stroked my back, trying to soothe me.

“We could have Lord Elrond put a sleep spell on you for the trip. That way you would not have to experience it.” I pretty much flew off the window seat at that.

“Absolutely not! No way in hell am I going to allow that. I’d rather be terrified than incapacitated.” I held onto my temper with teeth and toenails. He didn’t know how I felt about not being in control of myself. We had never discussed it. He didn’t mean any harm by the suggestion. He was only trying to help, I reminded myself. I dug my nails into my hands and counted to ten. His eyes were as wide as saucers, and I felt the need to explain.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I know you’re just trying to help. It’s just that I have control issues. I have to be in control of myself at all times. That’s why you’ve never seen me drink anything other than water or fruit juice here. I don’t drink alcohol even at home.” He considered for a moment then nodded.

“I understand. Rai, please think about coming with me. I would love for you to see my home. I will not pressure you.” He held out a hand to me, inviting me back onto the seat and into his arms. I accepted, snuggling next to him.

“I’ll think about it, but I’m not promising anything.”

“I am content with that. Let us just enjoy each other’s company for now, agreed?” He smiled down at me again and I snuggled even closer.

“Agreed.”


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mary ~

Even though I had many questions to ask Erestor before coming to the study, they were all gone now. My mind had gone blank. I sat my forgotten cup on my lap and felt suddenly compelled to keep my eyes glued on him as he poured some tea for himself and then went over to the desk to sit. I watched his every move as if I was waiting for something specific to happen, but I did not know what.

He sat in the large chair behind his desk before lifting his own cup to his lips to take a few careful sips. He kept his eyes cast down and for some reason I found this frustrating. I had a wholly mystifying urge to shout at him, 'Look at me!' But I managed to quell it as there was something about the gentle nature of the elf that forbade me. But I felt a surge of impatience with him that was almost overwhelming; I fought myself to remain calm.

As he set his cup on the desk and I almost fell off the edge of the couch as I leaned forward in anticipation; of what I still did not know. Again I felt the urge to shout, 'Look at me!' but I was still able to resist. He raised his head slightly, finally lifted his eyes to mine, and opened his mouth to speak.

"Stop!" I shouted. "Do not say a word!" I stood, my teacup went flying to the floor. Erestor's eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline and he sat up stiffly, as if at attention. I do not know who was more surprised. I clapped my hand over my mouth to prevent anything else from coming out and then sat down suddenly as my head began to spin. I wanted to say that I was sorry for shouting, and for the tea spill, and the stain on the carpet, but the whole room appeared to start rocking back and forth. And then everything went gray. And then completely black.

When I woke up I found myself lying on the hard leather couch, while Erestor hovered over me with a look on his face that was a mixture of concern and wonder.

"What just happened?" I asked him. Although I still felt woozy, I tried to sit up. He pushed me back down, gently. He placed his hand on my forehead the way nduinduil had done when I had felt faint once before. My mind cleared and I did not need him to tell me anything. I knew who had shouted, no, I knew who had commanded him to stop.

"It was the king, wasn't it?" I asked. I had clearly felt Thranduil move through me like a surge of energy, there was no doubt in my mind.

"Yes, it was, he was using you to speak to me." The dignified elf shook his head as if he had been a party to unseemly behavior against his will. "I had been...ignoring him. I confess, I did not take him at his word, I had to see this work for myself."

"But, he told you to stop, so how come you can talk to me now?"

"Thranduil wanted a chance to have his say, first, before I answered any of your questions." He gave me a tight little smile before adding, a bit ruefully. "It worked. Although he might have been gentler."

"Kings... " I said.

"Yes." He said quietly

"They always get their way," I finished.

"It was ever thus." He replied so softly he was barely audible.

"Do you mean he is communicating with me?" I ha haa hand to my temple and wiggled my fingers at him. "Like that?" I closed my eyes for a moment and stayed very still as I waited for Thranduil's voice to speak to me. Nothing happened.

"Not exactly," answered Erestor. "It would be closer to the truth to say he is using you, communicating through you, to me." He sighed then continued, "And he is very frustrated, he has been attempting to reach through for some time. Apparently it did not work with Elrond. And he would never have dared try with Glorfindel. And there are no other elves here who are capable of receiving this way, at such a great distance, besides myself."

Then I felt again a wave of emotion, not irritation, but frustration that flared up from within me. When I had been alone with Elrond, after I had first arrived, I had experienced this same sensation a few times. Especially when he told me about the message for me that Thranduil had sent him, about the eagle coming. The same exact sense of frustration. I had thought it was my own frustration; but now I knew it was the king’s.

"He's back," I said as I pointed to my head, "and I think he wants you to tell me something. And I mean, right now!"


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

~ Mal ~

I slept long the following day, and when I woke up in Thranduil's large bed, he wasn't there. I was a little disappointed, but not too surprised, as I knew he always had lots of 'kingy' things to do. Thaladir confirmed this when I met him in the private dining chamber. He helped me fasten the last hooks on my dress and said that the kitchen elves would bring me something to eat in a moment. His Majesty was in his study and was not to be disturbed.

With nobody for company at the table, I was left to my own thoughts, and as I chewed on a particularly tasty piece of honey cake, I came to think about Mary. I realized that I wanted her company even more now, when I was surer of myself and my role here, and more content with life than I had been for many weeks. The more I thought of her, the more I felt that I needed to see her, so when I had finished my breakfast I went to the study, despite Thaladir's orders.

I ded nod not to knock, hoping to slip into the room without giving the king a chance to deny me entrance. Which was foolish, of course. I hadn't even touched the door handle when I found myself standing eye to eye with Thranduil. He looked happy to see me, in a way, but more annoyed. I began to regret my decision to disturb him when I knew he was occupied. Hadn't I promised not to do that, just a few days ago? I began to back away. Surely this could wait. I was just about to apologize and leave, when the king spoke.

"Mal, was there any particular reason for your seeking me this hour?"

"My lord," I started hesitantly, "I've been thinking about Mary..."

He interrupted me instantly. "I will take her back." He looked grim when he said it, and it suddenly made me afraid, despite all we had shared the night before.

"What will you do with her? Please do not spank her, my lord, please! She wouldn't take that well, please don't!" I heard how desperate I sounded, but it was for real. I remembered how she had reacted when reading my story, and I knew that she would not stay with a 'girl-hitter'. I wanted her to come back for real, not run away again.

"I am not a villain." His voice was calm now, but cold. "You have said it so many times yourself, do you not believe your own words? I am not a villain." He suddenly looked very villainous to me, when he continued. "But I am king."

There was no doubt about that. I found myself trying to imagine a young Thranduil, a prince, but to no avail. He must have had the same nose, the same eyes, and the same regal posture that gave him away instantly. Even as a child he must have been special. I could see him with a garland of green birch leaves in his hair, small, but even then commanding...

"I never wore that. My father did. And if you have finished thinking of irrelevant things you might listen." His voice was milder now, and he sounded less irritated.

"I am sorry, my lord. I will listen." But he couldn't forbid me to keep that young elf in my thoughts just a little longer. I wondered if he had been playful as a child, or serious, knowing of the responsibility that would be his. But then, Oropher should have lived forever. Elf-princes do not always become kings.

"Not seldom, kings have to do things that are not pleasant," he said. I imagined masses of beheaded orcs, lying in long rows, blackened houses of burnt villages that had been home to traitors, prisoners begging for mercy... "But," he continued, "your thinking is erroneous. I am not angry with her."

"No?" I couldn't believe my ears. Was that really possible? Mary had caused quite a scandal by running off from an official meeting like she did. Disgrace to the royal household and all that. I found it difficult to understand that he would let her get away with it, but it didn't matter, as long as she would come back. I hoped it would be soon.

"Do not fear," said Thranduil, "I will treat her justly." He kissed me on the forehead before adding, "Now, may I continue with my 'kingy things', as you seem to prefer to call them?"


To be continued...