Far Beyond Mirkwood

By: Mary A and Malinorne

Warning: Adult sexual situations and language, some
nudity, and a little violence.

Summary: Mary wants to go sightseeing and Mal learns
that her fame has earned her an unusual reward, or
two.


~*~ Mary ~*~

After Anborn released me, and noticed the audience we
had in the common room of the Underharrow inn, he
pulled me around him, so that I was hidden from the
crowd by his girth, and told me that he had come to
take me back to Edoras, at King Eomer's request. That
was a surprise.

Before I could recover myself enough to ask him if
Thranduil had cared at all that I had been kidnapped,
Anborn turned back to the table and told Elladan and
Elrohir that the Elvenking had sent some treasure
along, to pay for their misdeeds, in order to free
them from their eventual imprisonment. He reached into
his tunic and pulled out a small pouch. I was stunned.
My king cared more about the twins than me.

"We did not ask to be set free," Elladan hissed in a
taut whisper, after springing to his feet and standing
close enough to the ranger to be heard.

"There is mischief brewing in this village," added
Elrohir.

"I only know what I was ordered to do," said Anborn.
He knew the twins well; they had often ridden
together, during their return trip to Gondor, after
Mordor had been overthrown. They all began to argue in
whispers, until I tugged at the ranger's sleeve.

"But did Thranduil say anything at all about me being
here?" I asked. From the look in the ranger's dark
eyes, I could tell that he wanted very much to say
something to please me, but could not. "Did you even
talk to him today?" I added.

"Oh yes, I did talk to King Thranduil, or, rather, he
spoke to me," Anborn answered. I felt my heart skip a
little until he continued. "His Majesty advised me to
keep my eyes and ears open, and my wits sharp."

"Nothing about me?" Even as I was asking, Anborn's
expression was one of despair, over not being able to
give me the answer he knew I wanted to hear. From
somewhere behind me, the town master, who was also the
inn's owner and the blacksmith, was speaking.

"Here now," he said, his voice gruff with greed.
"What's this about treasure, then?" My rescuing ranger
hefted the small pouch he was holding, and tossed it
to the grimy man.

"That should cover all the expenses," Anborn said over
his shoulder, as he drew me in the direction of the
inn's front door. I was not ready to leave yet,
however, and I tugged at him to stop, while I tried to
watch the town master, whose eyes had grown two sizes
wider after he opened the pouch and peered into it. He
made a noise, like a strangled groan. Sweat-beads
popped out on his dirty forehead.

The entire crowd was silent now, watching him. A great
collective wheezing gasp rang out as the sweaty man
tipped the pouch over and spilled three glittering
gemstones onto his large, filthy palm.

"For goodness sakes!" I cried out. The bartering that
Lord Thaladir had done with the previous Rohan
innkeeper, over just one gemstone, came to my mind.
"There is enough wealth contained in those jewels to
buy this entire inn and the blacksmith shop,
together."

"So what if there is, missy?" Delighted with his new
found treasure, the town master turned around and
practically guffawed in my face, and the assembled
menfolk laughed along with him. When the laughter died
down, he roared at me, "Do you think I need to send
back some change?" The crowd laughed harder.

"Of course not," I said, smiling. "I think that there
is enough wealth there to cover one more night's stay
at this inn, spent here by me and my friend here, with
dinner included."

"Oh you do? Is that what you think, me dear?" The
town-master, who was probably simultaneously mentally
fingering and counting the piles of coins he would
fetch by selling the gemstones, was puffed up with
self-importance, and not likely to bestow any
generosity on a woman that he believed was of low
morals. He did not have to say how he felt about me,
it was in his leering glances.

"Or," I said slowly and carefully, "I could return to
the Golden Hall tonight and tell King Eomer all about
the nasty little business the menfolk of Underharrow
are engaged in lately, selling women from the south
into slavery and making them do all sorts of unseemly
and disgraceful acts for dwarves."

That was the closest I could come to describing what
the twins, and Lily, had told me. It was almost
enough. The town master turned gray, an interesting
ashy shade, and his mouth opened to speak, but nothing
came out. So I continued.

"And he will believe me," I said. "Especially when I
tell him that Edric tricked me into coming here by
telling me lies." I turned to Anborn. "He said you
were injured and that Thranduil had asked him to take
your place as my personal body guard, or I never would
have gone anywhere with him."

Luckily, Edric was not there to point out how I had
called him a liar, immediately after he told me that.

"That knave! I was not injured," growled Anborn, his
face growing red, a nice contrast to the town master's
gray. "If I had but known..." The enraged ranger bit
off his words, took me by the shoulders to set me
behind him, and then stalked slowly over to face the
town master, who seemed to shrink.

"Now, now, young man..." the greedy man said, he had
backed away from the glowering Anborn, and now he
bowed and scraped a little. "Perhaps a nice dinner
sent up to our finest room for you and the pretty lady
here would help to restore your good opinion of our
little village."

"Can I have a hot bath?" I asked. If Thranduil had not
sent me any type of message, then I was going to
assume that he did not care when, or if, I returned.

"Send up a jug of wine, too" said Anborn. He was
smiling now, and so was the town master, who clapped
his hands loudly, shouted out orders for hot water and
food, and had us escorted upstairs.


~*~ Mal ~*~

That morning I had a private audience with Eomer King.
Perhaps it wasn't that private, after all, considering
how it took place in the main hall, where the usual
number of servants, guards and visitors lingered,
going about their business or just talking over a
tankard of honey mead. But, Eomer was seated on his
throne at the far end of the room, and I sat on a pile
of sheepskins on the low platform leading up to it.
The awkwardness of being at his feet and having to
look up soon disappeared, and altogether the
arrangement felt more intimate than official. It was
an excellent occasion for a conversation
heart-to-heart.

"My lady," said Eomer carefully as he put his hand on
my shoulder, "I have spent this night in a manner much
different from my usual habits."

"No ale?" I dared a joke.

"Hmm... maybe not that different, then." He stroked
the stubble on his chin. "I do not see why a man
should go thirsty when there's no lack of drink. But,
this night I have burnt two whole candles while
studying a scroll. I believe you know of what I
speak." I nodded.

"Yes, Sire." I braced myself for what would come, be
it a raunchy comment or a wish for even more lecherous
detail.

"Very well." His cheeks had taken on a light pink tone
as we spoke and I could tell that he was relieved not
to have to explain further that he was referring to
Thaladir's meticulous notes from my recent adventure
with the dwarves. He took a deep breath. "No matter
the unusual circumstances, the deed done is worthy of
a song!" This last he said somewhat loud, causing a
number of the people in the hall to turn their heads
in our direction.

"I would of course be honoured," I lied, "but it was
nothing worth mentioning." I'd rather die than being
made a spectacle of that way. I still remembered the
awful squirrel-girl song.

"On the contrary, it required manly courage, and, I
hear, a certain amount of skill." I mumbled a vague
protest. "In fact," continued Eomer, "my minstrel is
already composing the song."

"No!" I cried out, again drawing the attention of the
others in the hall. "I'm sorry, Sire," I apologized
for my reaction. "I meant to say that I would be very
embarrassed to hear such a song. Please don't do it.
Please. The topic isn't very fitting for a king's
hall, if I may say so. Please." He laughed, running
his hand over my hair in a tender gesture I supposed
was meant to be innocent, just reassuring. I could
hardly blame Mary for wanting to seduce him.

"Worry not, my lady. Your name will not be mentioned
in the Lay of the Dwarrow-bride. It will be a heroic
song, sung in the worthy manner of old."

"Really?" The title didn't sound too promising, or too
close to the truth. "So," I continued, "it won't be
like that awful one about the lonely farmer and his
mare?" Eomer coughed and looked somewhat guilty.

"A king cannot control every tongue in his realm. The
people need some relief, you see, and sometimes in the
form of a song meant only for companionship on long,
dark nights. None will think ill of the deed itself."

I have long ago learnt that arguing with a king is an
exercise in futility, so I pretended to be content
with that. On the inside, I was fuming. I made a
silent vow to put every effort into coaxing Thranduil
to leave Edoras before any song, heroic or bawdy,
would be finished. Considering all the time he had
spent together with the ruler of Rohan, his errand,
whatever it was, must be concluded by now. Eomer
seemed to have read my thoughts.

"Regrettably," he said. "Thranduil has informed me of
his plans to travel hence in only a short time,
shorter than what the proper composition of heroic
poetry requires."

"Oh." I tried to appear slightly disappointed, but on
the inside I shouted with joy. And to my further
happiness, a new and familiar face became visible in
the hall as the main gates opened. Eomer saw him, too.

"Haldir!" the man called as the elf approached us. "Am
I not right that you are leaving too soon? You didn't
even get to see how my fortress is being restored to
its former state of glory."

"My lord," said the elf with a smirk, "you do forget
that I have had plenty of opportunity in the past to
see the Hornburg, even as it was being built for the
first time."

"Oh yes." The king knocked his head with his knuckle.
"With that face of a beardless youth I just cannot
seem to understand that you ought to have been a
withered old man already when Eorl led our people to
these green pastures. I would still have liked to show
it to you, knowing that warfare is your trade."

"Protection is my trade," protested Haldir
respectfully. "Nothing good comes out of a war,
neither for elf nor man. In that, at least, our races
are the same."

"Right you are," said Eomer, "although it takes a man
of more than my years to fully comprehend it. But," he
continued, now addressing me, "your elf-friend speaks
true. The fortress will be as it was already next
year, but my people will take long to recover. Too
many perished in the war - we have no bachelors."

"Really?" I thought he exaggerated; surely there must
have been many too young to ride out who were counted
as fully grown only now. "I saw plenty of men in your
guard, and the party that followed us wasn't small
either," I added.

"They are all there is. And nearly all are married
men. We face a decade of old spinsters, a whole
generation of maidens doomed to grow old without
children."

"But surely your men could... for the survival of the
kingdom, I mean?"

"We men of Rohan are faithful to our wives. I am
afraid I am nearly the only bachelor left of eligible
age," he added with some embarrassment. "Even with
plenty of offers I could not possibly father the next
generation; inbreeding is good neither for horse nor
man."

"And elves are not faithful?" I meant it half as a
joke, but Haldir had lifted a critical eyebrow at
Eomer's proud talk of faithfulness.

"My apologies if I have offended," the Rohan king
said, nodding at both of us, "but seeing as Thranduil
has two..."

It's funny that Haldir would be the one to explain how
an elfking whose wife is supposedly still alive could
have an official relationship with not only one, but
two others, without counting as morally depraved. Or,
I should say, at least not for that reason. As a
contrast, Haldir isn't married, and yet has to be
coaxed into even the loosest arrangement.

But perhaps I should advise Eomer to invite Elladan
and Elrohir? They were old friends from the war and
wouldn't mind at all to tend to all maidens who wanted
their company. There was, of course, the problem of
genetic diversity... a major flaw of my idea. But,
while I thought, Eomer had formed an idea of his own,
which he now shared with Haldir.

"I am considering sending a delegation of maidens to
Lorien. They would not be shot, would they? For
intruding into the Golden Wood?"

"It is true," answered Haldir with a serious face,
"that we have occasionally led men astray, leaving
them to wake up in some other place unawares of their
whereabouts, but only those who threatened our people.
Only yrch and their likes need fear the arrows of the
Galadhrim. Women with a peaceful errand would be
welcomed."

"Your majesty," said I, "knowing that the relations
between the Rohirrim and the elves of Lorien have
been, well, full of suspicion, would it not bother you
that part of your people would have elven blood?"

"With the knowledge I now have I would consider it a
strength. And seeing how the father of my bride-to-be
reputedly has elves among his ancestors, I could
hardly disapprove of such bloodlines." He slapped
Haldir's shoulder in a manly manner that made the elf
lift an eyebrow again.

"No elf would sire a child that irresponsibly," he
said carefully, "not intending to be its father while
it grows to adulthood."

"Hm. A most honourable intention. But, in that case it
seems we are in need of immigrants."

"Maybe you could do with emigrants?" I couldn't
imagine that any elf would willingly agree to spend
fifteen years or more in Edoras.

"What do you mean, my lady?"

"Provided there are elves who agree, maybe the young
women could stay in Lorien until their children are
grown, and then return to Rohan, if they like?" Haldir
nodded his approval, and Eomer, too.

"That was a wise proposal," the Rohan king said
thoughtfully, "and one I will discuss with Thranduil
already tonight. But now, my guests, our mid-day meal
is waiting. A wealth of words makes a thirsty throat,
as the saying goes."


~*~ Mary ~*~

"We are not going to the Paths of the Dead, my
dearest," said Anborn, patiently. He held the tips of
his fingers on his temples, as if that would help. "I
have already told you that King Eomer requested I
return with both you and his carriage as fast as
possible. How I ever let you talk me into staying
overnight is a mystery to me."

"You enjoyed it," I answered, not feeling sorry for
him at all. His tell-tale signs of a classic hangover
were obvious to me. The inn's owner, the suddenly
servile town master, had sent several jugs of his
finest vintage to our room during the night. They were
meant, I supposed, to help us both soften our views on
his establishment, when we finally returned to King
Eomer's court and gave our reports. "And," I
continued, " you promised me last night that you would
take me sight-seeing today."

"So you say," he grumbled, clearly not willing to
exert himself, or his aching head, to remember.
"Although I have no recollection of such a promise."

"Well," I purred, "you did seem distracted at the
time..."

We had been arguing about it ceaselessly, ever since
we had been awoken by one of the inn's serving maids,
who had come to ask us if we were planning on staying
over for another night. It was well past noon.

She had come with an armful of fresh linens, to make
over our room, and stood in the open doorway with eyes
as wide as saucers, after Anborn had answered her
hesitant knock. The fact that he stood there dressed
only in his dark skin-tight green breeches, but was
otherwise unclothed, had much to do with her witless
gaping stare. He did have a nicely shaped chest, with
wide slabs of lean muscle lightly furred with dark,
crisp curls.

"W-w-will you be coming down for the m-m-mid-day meal,
my lord?" she stammered out, after Anborn stood
frowning at her for several silent seconds. "Or," she
added, after looking past him and at me, still in bed,
"I could bring a tray to your..."

"Yes!" I called out, from where I was peeking out from
behind the bed's curtains, before she could finish.
"That would be..."

"We are leaving now," Anborn interrupted both of us to
say. I pulled the curtain beside me completely aside,
and glared at him.

"I won't leave this bed on an empty stomach." There.
The first gauntlet was thrown down. With my arms
crossed over my chest, and my chin high, I dared him,
without saying a word, to pull me from the covers and
carry me out of the inn. Naked.

After we finished our tray of food, I announced that I
wanted to visit Dunharrow, because I was sure the view
from that high up in the mountains would be
spectacular, and then we should go to see the Paths of
the Dead, at least the famous entrance to them, before
we returned to Edoras. That was the second gauntlet.

During our night's play in the inn's cozy, curtained
bed, I had Anborn at my mercy during one crucial
point, and made him promise me that he would take me
on the tour I had been promised, by Edric. It was not
my fault that he would have some trouble remembering
his gasping vow to do whatever I asked of him, no
matter what, if I would only just... well, keep doing
what I was doing at the time.

When Anborn refused to honor his promise to me, during
the clear light of day, and while he was no longer
under the influence of the heady wine we had drank, I
offered to refresh his memory, if he would remove his
pants. I closed the bed curtain again. By the time I
was finished re-enacting the previous night's
activities, he had made me several more promises.

There was still one big problem I was having, and
until it was solved, I was not going to leave the inn.
While Anborn dressed, I retrieved my skirt and blouse
from the floor, where I had tossed them, and then
nearly burst into tears at the thought of wearing them
for one more day, or even one more minute.

"This ridiculous costume is making me want to scream,"
I announced. "The blouse is filthy, and the skirt is
stained. I refuse to put it on."

With a shake of his handsome head, Anborn sighed.
After stepping across the room, he pulled his cloak
from a hook on the wall and approached me with it. He
did not have the reflexes of an elf, however, and I
was able to side-step his intentions, and dart around
to the other side of the bed, before he could wrap me
up in it.

"What would you have me do, my lady?" He fought hard
to keep the exasperation he felt under control, but it
leaked out a little bit. "Should I allow you to roam
over the plains of Rohan in your bare skin? His
Majesty would hardly be pleased with me."

"Do you remember that little maid, who brought our
tray?" I asked, and he nodded warily. "Well," I said,
"She isn't very short, but she was slender. I bet she
has something that would fit me, did you bring any of
your own money with you?" Instead of answering me,
Anborn stood and stared at me, as if I had just turned
purple and grew a pair of horns. He covered his face
with his hands and then dragged them down far enough
to eye me again.

At last, he removed his hands from his face, and
spoke. Very slowly. Through clenched teeth. "You want
me to go buy you a dress from the serving-wench?"

"Do you want me to leave this inn today?"

In the end, we compromised. Anborn was willing to go
find the girl, and bring her back to our room, but he
was not going to involve himself in anything as
feminine as discussing buying the dress off of her
back. He left us alone, and stood outside the door
while we bargained.

To my surprise, the maid was willing to trade me her
practical dun-colored gown for the clownish outfit
that I had been forced to wear. It turned out that
most of the menfolk in Underharrow had mentioned the
way I had been dressed, and they had not made any
unflattering comments. She could not wait to try it
on, dirty or not. I think, if I had tried, she would
have even paid me for the privilege of wearing it.

Most, if not all, of my reluctance to leave the inn
had nothing to do with an empty stomach, a lack of
clean clothes, or a sudden desire to see the view from
the mountain tops. The truth was I was still upset
about Thranduil not having mentioned me to Anborn.

If my king had the time and inclination to tell the
ranger to 'keep his wits about him', then he could
have at least added something about me. It had made me
so disturbed that my performance beneath the sheets,
which had left Anborn too exhausted to remember his
promise, had been inspired by the inclination to shake
every last little bit of wit out of the mortal man's
head.

The realization that I had done just that, and the
wonderful argument my behavior had spawned, did not
mollify my injured feelings. There was no possible way
to avenge myself by dallying with Anborn, no matter
what outrageous promises I made the agreeable ranger
give to me to delay our return, because Thranduil was
wise to every single one of my tricks. If anything, he
would be amused, if he was paying attention at all.

Nothing was going to make me happy, but at least I
could be in control there, in the inn. Within the
confines of Anborn's and my room, I could fancy myself
the Queen of Underharrow, at least. But I was not fit
to be seen in any court in Middle-earth, dressed like
I was, as a serving-wench.

The dress I had traded for was not a bad fit, but it
was not at all flattering. Even though the gown had
barely reached the inn-servant's ankles, on me the hem
puddled around my feet. The maid found a pretty yellow
sash to make a crude belt around my middle, to cinch
in the loose fabric, in an effort to keep the skirt
from dragging on the floor. The sleeves were too long,
and the neckline was too high, but at least it was
clean.

Anborn was so delighted to see me come out of the room
that he valiantly tried to make a few weak compliments
about how nice I looked in the ugly dress. As gently
as he could manage, he put his hand on the small of my
back and urged me toward the stairs. We made it down
them, and as far as the inn's common room, when we
were stopped in our tracks by the sight of Elladan and
Elrohir. They were sitting at a table, staring up
toward the second floor, frowning. Anborn seemed
particularly perturbed to see them and strode over for
a confrontation.

"Were you two not supposed to travel ahead of us to
the Golden Hall?" he asked, leaning on the table with
his arms extended straight out, after we drew close
enough to the twins not to be overheard by the other
customers. "Do neither of you recall how you were to
deliver a message from me to the two kings that Lady
Mary is safe?" His eyes were blazing now; this day had
not gone the way he had planned it. Poor mortal.

"Edric is here." Elladan calmly said to the ranger.

"We saw him go upstairs last night, with Lily," added
Elrohir.

"Did he pay for a room?" The town master, who came
bustling over to us while we stood there, asked this,
directing his question at no one in particular. Today
he appeared to have bathed before coming into the inn.
He was better looking without the soot and grime
coating he usually wore, from his blacksmithing
business. Almost handsome, by mortal standards anyway.
The fact that he was more concerned with his pockets
than he was about harboring a criminal made him very
unattractive.

"Don't you care at all that Edric kidnapped me and
tried to sell me to your innkeepers?" I asked him. For
a moment, it seemed as if he did not remember who I
was, as he almost jumped back in surprise when I spoke
to him. Now that I was decently covered, he actually
noticed that I had a face.

"With all respect, my lady, how can I blame an Eorling
for taking some initiative and indulging in a bit of
private commerce on the side?" The town master shook
his head at my question and left us to visit with some
other customers, after sending one of the innkeepers,
who were keeping their distance from the elven twins,
up the stairs to fetch Edric and Lily.

"Are you going to let that man talk to me like that?"
I asked Anborn.

"Lady Mary," the ranger said, with some reluctance,
"the practice of selling contracts for women who
provide such services as you are wont to give away
freely, is a common tradition in Gondor, and is only
now becoming acceptable in Rohan."

"But I was kidnapped," I pointed out. "Is that
common?"

"Unguarded women are considered a natural quarry in
most mortal realms, darling," said Elladan, surprising
me by seeming to agree with what Anborn was saying.
"You have spent most of your time with the elves of
Mirkwood and Lorien."

"And Rivendell," I added, smiling at Anborn. I had met
him there, in the Great Hall of Fire of the Last
Homely House.

"And no self-respecting elf would ever buy, steal, or
borrow an unprotected woman," Elrohir concluded.

"Which is why you need me," said Anborn. If he had
anything further to say about me, or kidnapping women
to sell them, I will never know. Edric had come down
the stairs, alone, and, from the way he hurried, it
seemed as if he was trying to get out of the inn
before he was seen. Not very likely with two elves, a
ranger, and a greedy inn owner, all lying in wait for
him.

The first to reach Edric's side, and spin him around
to face the room, was Anborn.

"That was for lying to Lady Mary," said the ranger, at
last able to take out some of his impatience on
someone his own size. He was standing over the
suddenly prone, and massively befuddled, Edric, who
had landed on his back after his chin got in the way
of the ranger's firmly-placed fist.

There were some angry shouts from the other men in the
common room, but no one tried to interfere. The twins
came over to stand at Anborn's back. I clung to
Elrohir's arm and hoped that no one else would get
hurt. Like me.

"Get on your feet, Captain," Anborn said with a sneer,
as he lifted the dazed Edric to a standing position.
Again his large fist connected with the horseman's
body, this time it was his mid-section, and the poor
man bent over, breathless. He was quickly straightened
up again, with a fist to the nose, which promptly
began to bleed.

"That's enough," I said to the twins. As far as I was
concerned, a broken nose on Edric's formerly comely
face was adequate compensation for the distress he had
put me through. "Please make Anborn stop hitting him
now," I asked Elladan, as I stepped around the ranger
and the horseman. I was still clinging to Elrohir's
arm. "At this rate, I won't get up to see the Paths of
the Dead before sunset."


~*~ Mal ~*~

I spent the afternoon with Ithilwen and Miriel, who
were eager to take a last look at the market-place,
despite my assurance that they would find nothing
there worth taking home. To tell the truth, I had
hoped to avoid the busy street, where a certain
rat-faced merchant would now be selling his
dwarven-made merchandise openly.

We ended up strolling through only the first part of
the main street, turning back before reaching the
merchant's stand, as Anarion came to fetch us for a
ride among the hills behind Edoras. The landscape was
fetching with its brooks and waterfalls, as well as
the striking contrast between the green grass on the
lower hills and the snow-capped mountains in the
distance. I couldn't even be jealous of Mary, who,
according to what Thranduil said during lunch, was
enjoying a sight-seeing tour with Edric and Anborn. He
refused to say anything more specific, but I could
tell from his smug grin that there was more to it than
that.

She had still not returned by the time the elves refer
to as starry twilight, which was also when dinner was
served in Meduseld, and as I ate I began to hope that
her absence would mean a second night with our king
for me. She could hardly begrudge me that; after all,
she had not only one, but two handsome men at her beck
and call.

"Your altruistic eagerness to serve becomes a royal
concubine," whispered the Elvenking in my ear. I had
not meant for him to see that particular thought. My
surprise made him chuckle. "And," he continued, "it
has inspired me to be likewise unselfish. Tonight, you
will carry on with the arrangement involving my
seneschal."

My initial disappointment passed quickly and it was
with a feeling of excitement I knocked on Thaladir's
door later that night. I had prepared carefully,
soaking in the bathtub for what felt like hours after
dinner, and put on a simple floor-length tunic of a
nondescript colour that I knew would met the
seneschal's approval and taste for modesty. The silky
undergarments I had chosen were more befitting a
rendezvous with our king, but I decided that by the
time he would see them, he would be beyond caring.

Thaladir opened the door promptly, but appeared more
surprised than happy to see me. I gave him my best
curtsey and a most demure 'Your Excellency' uttered
with fluttering eyelashes and just the hint of a
smile.

"Yes, my lady?"

"I have come, as instructed." He continued to look at
me with his usual calm expression. Apparently, the
first wave of surprise had passed, but he made no move
to open the door further and let me in.

"As instructed? Ah, His Majesty has sent you to fetch
me, despite the late hour?"

"No." I giggled. "His Majesty has sent me to stay with
you, here."

"Is that indeed so?" I nodded, which made him finally
stand back so that I could pass him and get into the
room.

It was small, a copy of the quarters Mary and I
occupied, only even more sparsely decorated. There
were a few empty hooks and nails on the wall, as if
the seneschal had preferred to remove whatever had
been hanging there so that the room would fit his
Spartan taste better. He appeared to have been reading
at the minuscule desk, so I strode straight up to the
bed, not wanting to occupy the only chair. Thaladir
remained standing at the door, not closing it until I
had gestured for him to do so.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted your studies," I told him,
seeing that he was far from the amorous state in which
I had hoped to find him. "Please continue, I promise
not to disturb and I don't feel sleepy at all yet."

He gave me a strange glance, which I interpreted as
disbelief, but sat down at the desk and took the
scroll between his hands. His shoulders looked very
stiff at first, as if he was not at all comfortable.
My whispered offer to rub them for him seemed to make
it worse. I sat still, keeping quiet and just studying
him. That seemed to help, or at least he looked more
relaxed when I had made no sign of my existence for
perhaps half an hour. He must have very important work
to do, or it had been a mistake to come here, despite
the obvious pleasure he had from spending the night
with me just recently. But maybe I could help him get
into the mood?

I stood and began to fold down the bed cover, very
slowly and carefully in case he was watching. Then I
sat down again and pulled the tunic over my head,
catching a glimpse of the seneschal abruptly turning
away just as I finished. I folded the garment neatly
and put it on the windowsill, for lack of better
places. Thaladir appeared deeply absorbed in his
reading, but now I knew that it wasn't so. There was a
half-opened bottle of wine in the window, and a cup
beside it. This I filled and carried to him, offering
it on outstretched palms as I knelt beside the chair.

"Your Excellency," I said, and then repeated it a
couple of times when he didn't react. Hearing his
title being said in a respectful manner has always
been a weakness with him. As I kept my eyes modestly
downcast I did not see his reaction, but he took the
cup and I heard him take a big gulp, swallowing
audibly in a most un-elfy manner. Then he cleared his
throat.

"My lady, although your current manners are most
pleasing, my humble person requires them not, more
befitting for approaching His Majesty as they are." I
stood and placed a small kiss on his head; I just
couldn't help it, it was so typical for him to say
something like that.

"As you wish, Excellency," I replied in a less
subservient voice. "Would you like some more wine?"

"If you would be so kind."

This time, I fetched the bottle so that I could stand
right next to him and pour. That meant it would be
harder for him not to look at me, and it felt nice the
way his sleeve brushed against my belly when he took
the cup.

"Thank you, my lady," he said when he was finished.
"It was most kind of you to offer your service, but
now I believe it is time for you to leave."

"I can't," I told him, which of course wasn't entirely
true. "I have not yet fulfilled my duties." Before he
could ask, I took the few steps to the bed and slid
between the sheets. "His Majesty instructed me to warm
your bed," I explained with a seductive voice.

"In that case, my lady, you may proceed with your
current activities for the short while estimated to be
required for the fulfilment of said task, I do,
however, assure you that the temperature of this room
was adequate from the beginning."

"Come lie with me." Now he was just being silly. I
knew that he wanted me. "It's His Majesty's wish," I
continued, "unless you're truly not interested." That
last part sounded whiny, but I was losing my patience
with the obstinate elf.

"My personal desires..." he began.

"... are of no consequence." I finished the sentence
for him. "I know you, remember? And I happen to like
you very much. I desire you, Thaladir. Please come." I
lifted the sheet and patted the space beside me.

"My lady, those undergarments are most unseemly," he
said as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Not only do
they provide insufficient coverage in this area," -
his hand glided over my taut nipples, "but,
furthermore, they are so thin that what lies beneath
is revealed to the eye, here." He moved his fingers to
the mound beneath my belly and stroked me there
repeatedly. "And," he added, "the unseemliness of said
material is confirmed by how it invites most
disrespectful touching."

"Oh, yes," I replied, lifting my hips. "More, please."
He complied, for a while, but then he suddenly jumped
up from the bed. I saw him wiping his fingers on his
robe as he returned to the desk with stiff, agitated
motions.

"I cannot forego my duties," was the explanation he
offered when I asked him what was wrong. He refused to
look at me again, even when I pleasured myself. I hope
he suffered as much as I did before I finally fell
asleep, feeling very lonely despite the small physical
distance between us.


~*~ Mary ~*~

The breathtaking view from Dunharrow was exactly as I
expected it to be, and even Anborn had to agree it was
worth the trouble to make the twisting, winding,
bouncing trip by carriage up into the mountains. As we
stood there, looking down at the plains, I wondered if
Thranduil had even noticed my absence. I could not
feel him in my head.

From a large plateau on top of a high peak, we could
see all of the merchants, traders, and other
travelers, coming up, and going down, on the road that
led to the former Paths of the Dead, which had been
renamed the Dunharrow Pass, a name that I found
extremely boring in comparison.

There were carts, wagons, loaded horses and ponies,
and men on foot with large baskets strapped to their
backs. Every once in a while, a group of horsemen
would gallop by, raising dust and making the pack
animals nervous. It had taken hours to travel up into
the mountains, due to all the traffic in our way. When
we exited the carriage, I felt gritty and sore from
being shaken by the bumpy ride. A hot bath and a soft
bed would be nice, but both of those luxuries were
leagues away.

The sun was just setting, the sky was purple and gold,
and it would be too dark to travel in an hour or two,
but I was not in any hurry to leave Dunharrow and
travel back down the twisting mountain path. I
pretended to be interested in the historical sights
and barely noticed anything while I pictured my
beautiful king taking a bath with Lady Eowyn. If Eomer
had a grand bathing chamber, then I imagined the White
Lady had one even more fancy.

She probably had a nicer bed, too.

The famous Rohirrim mustering area was now set up as a
tourist location, with statues of horses and plaques
that told the story of the last days of Theoden and
his valiant riders. There was even a small tribute to
Eowyn, who had ridden to Gondor with them, in
disguise. An inn had been built for those who wished
to spend the night, with a dining room open to the
public, and I talked Anborn into taking me inside for
supper.

"If they have a room available," I added, as we
entered the newly constructed establishment, "then
maybe we can spend the night here."

"Lady Mary!" Anborn sounded shocked at the suggestion.
During the carriage ride up the mountain, he had
repeated, several times, his vow to return me to
Edoras before nightfall, or as soon as possible after
the sun had set. Once we had reached our destination,
which we had to make at a snail's pace, he was in
despair, and I did not care. It was nearly full dark
by the time I had read every plaque and admired every
statue.

Withholding myself from Thranduil's bed, on purpose,
was something that I had never considered before. It
just had not been an option. Tonight, I was going to
come the closest I could come to seeking revenge, by
not being at my king's disposal. It was hard to
convince myself that he would be the one to suffer.

"It won't hurt to ask," I murmured to the ranger. I
approached the desk where a fat man, who I assumed
must be the innkeeper, was sitting, smoking a pipe. He
grinned at me and winked. Ignoring his cheeky
manners, I asked if there were any vacant rooms
available to rent. It had not even occurred to me that
I had no money, and I forgot to find out if Anborn had
brought any with him, but it turned out not to matter
anyway. There were no spare beds to be had.

"We could sleep in the carriage," I said to Anborn, as
he tried to coax me away from the front desk and into
the dining room. He paled at my suggestion.

"Hold there," said the innkeeper, he had stood up and
was chuckling like a mad fool. "Do ye be Lady Mary?
Visiting from Eomer King's court?"

At first, I thought the fat little man must be
flirting with me, or something like it, because of the
way he grinned like an idiot and could not stop
shaking from mirth. He came to stand in front of
Anborn and me, and sucked at his pipe while he waited
for me to answer him.

"I might be her," I said, suddenly glad that I had
Anborn to protect me. "What if I am?" I wondered, for
a panicky moment, if this man was in league with Edric
and the slavery market.

"There be a room already purchased for ye," he removed
his pipe from his mouth and used it to point up a
flight of stairs on the other side of the room, and
then he winked at me again, "that is, if ye are Lady
Mary."

"How can that be?" I demanded. "No one knew I was
coming... here..." I stopped, and then I looked at
Anborn. He shrugged. I could see that he was just as
bewildered as I was. My heart began to flutter, but I
was not going to get my hopes up too high, yet. It
could be a mistake, there could be more than one Lady
Mary in Middle-earth. "Which room?"

"Up those stairs, at the end of the hall, to your
right," said the jolly innkeeper, although he had
stopped chuckling by then. "And your escort is to stay
here, with me."

Before Anborn could protest, or stop me, I was running
toward the stairs. My borrowed gown wrapped around my
legs and nearly tripped me, but I managed to keep my
balance. I gathered the skirt up to my knees and took
the steps two at a time. Vaguely, I heard laughter and
cheers from the other customers in the inn's common
room, but I did not consider the spectacle I was
making, and thought there must be a court jester
entertaining them downstairs.

When I reached the room, my heart was racing, and I
was breathless. There might be someone inside, waiting
for me. Somehow, I knew that there was. It could be
another kidnapper or...? Behind me, I could hear
Anborn's heavy boots clomping up the stairs. Without
another thought about it, I knocked on the door, it
was flung open, and I was grabbed inside.

"You are late," said Thranduil. "Our bath water is
starting to grow cold."

"I took the stairs two at a time," I said, before he
kissed me.


~*~ From Thaladir's Notebook: ~*~

Status of daily schedule: Accomplished
Remarks: Matters of state accomplished successfully,
His Majesty's visit to the realm of the Rohirrim
therefore soon to be concluded, much to my relief,
since I of late find it much difficult to control
certain urges, and even more so as His Majesty this
night has seen fit to send one of his temptresses to
my chamber with the purpose of testing my faithfulness
to him. Yet, through the haze of my libidinous
thoughts I do realize that I have failed His Majesty
most grievously by desiring that, which belongs to
him, and I humbly recognize his right to punish me,
even in this cruel manner. Long live Eryn Lasgalen!

TBC