Mary Goes to Mirkwood

Mary Goes to Mirkwood

Chapter Four/?

(2004 revised edition)

Co-authors: Mary A & Malinorne

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 creation

Warning: NC17, some mild S&M (spanking) some bondage, some wine drinking. LOTS of nudity.

Pairing: King Thranduil/OFCs

Summary: Mary finds an ally in Mirkwood, Mal is prepared for the king

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

~ Mary ~


Although I was hungry when I awakened to Thranduil's demanding caresses the next morning, the king obviously had other ideas, so my breakfast was delayed. After we were finished he drew me into his arms and told me that he had someone for me to meet at our morning meal.

I had met so many elves in the previous days that I could not imagine that there was even one left in the entire kingdom that I had not been introduced to yet. But I told him that, of course, I would be more than happy to meet another elf or two.

After summoning the shy, smiling elf-maid, Miriel, he promised to return shortly to escort me to the dining hall and left the room while she assisted me. I liked the idea of getting to wear yet another elf-made gown no matter what the reason. This dressing up for every occasion habit is fine with me. That is, as long as I have help with the garment fastenings which otherwise defeat me.

"You would think," I told the elleth, who was hooking up the gown at mid-back, "that a guy, uh, I mean, elf, who wants to get me naked as quickly as possible would have made sure it was lot easier on both of us!"

She blushed and flustered a little, as if she really wanted to laugh but was afraid of doing so, which made me think that discussing the king's private behavior was unusual, or, maybe, even forbidden. I kept any further speculations I may have had about him to myself in order to prevent further embarrassment on her part.

I did wonder, however, if the king had bedded her but I did not ask that either. I was too afraid of what the answer might be, and because there was nothing I could have done about it anyway. It certainly was not my place to be snooping around about his sexual history. Even Haldir, for all of his knowledge about the Elven realms beyond the borders of Lorien, was not able to tell me if the king was truly the sexual predator that fan fiction writers had made him out to be.

From the beginning, I was almost as intimidated by the beauty, grace and stature of these elf-maids who hovered around me, as I was by the king. There was no way I could compete with either of them. The only factor in my favor, that I could comfort myself with, was the notion that I was the only mortal female in the halls Mirkwood. Not for the first time did I wish for a mirror to see myself in, but the warm smile on the face of the elleth assured me I looked presentable.

I entered the dining-room on the king's arm, feeling all grand and ladylike, but flew from his side with a happy shout when I saw who was standing there, arms open wide, to greet me. It was Legolas! I gave him a big hug and told him how happy I was to see him again. I had felt cheated when he joined our little group, while we travethrothrough Rohan, when I had to go to Orthanc. He had Gimli with him, then, and I had the twins with me, so we never had a chance at private conversation.

"What a nice surprise," I said. "Especially since your father's seneschal told me that you weren't going to be here." I looked over at Thranduil, who had an inscrutably placid expression on his face as he watched Legolas answer me.

"I was not going to be here for your visit, but, I ran into...," he stopped. After a moment's pause he continued, "An old friend of ours at Carrock Airport," Legolas looked over at Thranduil and smiled brightly. "And thought I would come home and tell my father about it." The king looked neither surprised nor interested in this piece of information so I assumed they had already discussed the matter while I was still asleep.

"There is no good reason, Legolas," said the king, "to bore my guest with conversation about...old friends." I felt like I was missing something, as a look traveled between them like a short burst of electricity, but I kept my questions to myself. It could not possibly be any of my business who Legolas saw where.

It was so unusual to be in the same room, for the first time, with both the king and his son. They were alike and, yet, unalike. Legolas's eyes are the most startling difference. A dreamy sky-blue brilliance compared with Thranduil's stormy sea gaze. And while the king, more often than not, slit his eyes in suspicion, or contempt, or while scheming inwardly, Legolas's were always open wide and warming.

The king could use his eyes to control and intimidate while Legolas's were always friendly and inviting.

The rest of the royal household had already eaten breakfast, and gone about their various ways, by the time we sat down. The king sat silent and thoughtful, eating his brest, st, as I chatted with Legolas, who was eager to hear about the rest of my visit to Isengard and its final outcome. e toe told me that Gimli would be pleased to hear that the twins gave Grima a proper lesson in manners, after that murderous fiend had attempted to molest me in Saruman's former throne room. Thranduil snorted when the dwarf's name was mentioned. Legolas did not seem to hear or care.

We were lingering at the table, breakfast done, but still plenty of tea left in the pot to sip on, when Thaladir entered, greeted both Legolas and me with a polite bow, then spoke quietly into Thranduil's ear. The king nodded and then stood up and excused himself to "attend to a minor emergency" leaving me in Legolas's care until he returned.

Legolas leapt up eagerly and offered to accompany, and assist, him, but the king insisted that someone he could trust keep an eye on my welfare in the meantime. After the king left the room, the prince begged my leave to offer me a confession.


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

~ Mal ~

The Elvenking must be occupying himself with Mary, I thought, when the eagle had landed and I was met by an unknown elf with dark-brown hair and hazel eyes. He was wearing a long robe in a lighter brown colour that matched his delicate features perfectly, and his intelligent face would have been handsome if it had not been for the way he wrinkled his forehead. But the most striking thiboutbout him was that he looked absolutely impeccable, even more so than any elf I had seen before. He looked as if nothing in Arda could make him lose his dignity.

He introduced himself as the king's seneschal, but did not see it fit for me to know his name, at least not at that point. I had no idea what a seneschal did, but he looked more like a clerk than a warrior, so I assumed it was some kind of administrative function. My name was already known to him, of course, and he dot sot seem to wish to prolong the procedure of receiving me by engaging in conversation. The eagle was sent away, and the elf looked at me, shook his head and said quietly, as to himself: "Why did you tarry, little one?"

He did not wait for my reply before he turned to walk hastily towards a high hill. I could feel that he was displeased with my lateness, but I did not even try justifying myself, and, besides, I had more than enough to do trying to keep up with his pace as he hurried towards the great gates at the end of the pathway.

I was led into a room that appeared to be some kind of study. It was sparsely furnished with a desk, a heavy chair and a bookcase. It was lit with torches, which lent it a warm and almost cosy tint, despite the lack of decoration. The seneschal called, as if to the walls, and within seconds an ethereally beautiful elf-maid entered the room. Her hair was like honey and her eyes a soft grey colour and her skin, as well as her nose, were perfect. She was slim and wore a long cream-coloured gown that displayed her exquisite figure in tost ost favourable way possible.

Needless to say, I felt incredibly ugly and clumsy, but did not dwell long on these thoughts as the seneschal startled me by telling the beauty to change my clothes. As if I could not do that myself! What a thought!

I wanted to protest, but the elf-maid's friendly smile made me change my mind and I allowed her to assist me with taking off my jacket, while I quickly stepped out of my jeans and pulled the knitted woollen sweater over my head. There was no way I was going to remove my t-shirt with the seneschal ogling, and my angry look made him turn away rapidlys ths there a blush on the stone face?

I tried to talk with the elf-maid, hoping to make friends, but she was either very shr, wr, which was more probable, instructed not to speak with me, whatever the reason for that could be.

Silently, but smiling, and with a friendly look in her eyes, she helped me to put on the concubine dress I had been sent by the king before the masquerade. I had liked it then, but now it felt indecent with its short skirt and thin fabric, in comparison with the long garments of the elves. I wondered what they were thinking about me and was surprised to see nothing but curiosity and appreciation in their eyes.

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

~ Mary ~


"I have already read about your adventures in Isengard," admitted the surprising Elvenprince. "I just did not want to bring up the fact that I can read your language, as well as speak it, in front of my father. Here in his halls he has many elves that take care of his accounts with the citizens of the Long Lake, so he has never had a reason to learn how to read human words." He got a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he added, "Although he is very proficient at deciphering your numerals while approving the bills of lading that come from the Long Lake merchants."

We both laughed over the king, his tight-fisted miserliness, and his ability to pinch a penny until it screamed for mercy. But, when his admission about having read my story on-line lly lly sank in, I sat up straight while big, fat light bulbs started going off in my head.

Every great plan seems to have a flaw, every great mind seems to have a blind spot for certain contingencies, and so it went for the king's attempt to isolate me from my world. He had not counted on his son's own dabbling with computers. Legolas has been invited into many, many fan fiction writers' homes as a muse and he knew all about group sites. He even has his own password and id.

"The king haven ven me a lap-top, Legolas, would you like for me to show it to you?" He seemed genuinely surprised at this information and accepted my invitation immediately. We went to the royal chambers and the prince did not even question why it was placed so high on the wardrobe but merely reached up, brought it down, and opened it.

Within moments, he had figured out the king's Elvenractracter password, "silver." We had fun navigating the Internet and chatting about all the various elf related web-sites we enjoyed visiting and, finally, he showed me some of the fan fiction groups he enjoyed the most.

He enjoyed all the elf-related group sites, not just those that featured him, and as soon as I saw my favorite group homepage picture appear on the screen, I let out a happy yelp. I assured Legolas that I would be fine on my own with the lap-top and that his baby-sitting chore was over with for the time being. He gave me a brotherly kiss on the forehead and exited the room with a charming courtly bow.

I took the lap-top to the large chair, ornately carved from some type of dark wood, almost as hard as the king's throne, which was placed before the fireplace at one end of the chamber, and sat down. I immediately rose and went to the bed to fetch a pillow to cushion my behind from the unforgiving nature of the rock-hard seat.

Once settled, I began eagerly catching up with the messages about the goings on at the group site. Time passed swiftly as I caught up with my favorite stories, read through the messages, and learned the names of the newest members. I started to feel hungry and was considering shutting down the lap-top and looking for some lunch.

None of the messages, or replies, that I was posting were reaching the group. Damn satellite transmissions. I scrolled down the message list to see if there was anything I had not read yet that I thought deserved a quick look before I went exploring for something to eat.

That was when I discovered, and read, Mal's story, "My Reward." I found her remarkable tale about her visit from Thranduil surprisingly disturbing. There was no good reason to feel shocked about their encounter. The king had indicated to me that he felt indebted to her for helping me write our tale.

It made sense that he would reward such an effort, made on his behalf, of being the beta for a writer who was presenting him in a more sympathetic light. And it also made sense that his idea of a reward was to sexually conquer her before she had time to think about it. He would assume any woman should be grateful for that.

But it upset me when I got to the part where he had spanked Mal, not only that, but had done so because she had merely assumed things about him to help me make his story shine more brilliantly. It seemed so unfair. I assumed a lot more than she had and I did not get a spanking.

Actually, I must confess, I am not sure if I was all that concerned about the state of Mal's sore behind as I was jealous of the king's obvious admiration of it beforehand. "Magnificent!" he had called it. He never called my bottom "magnificent!" I could not read another word. Was this the reason Mal had avoided him at the masquerade party? No wonder she was so afraid of him.

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

~ Mal ~


The elf-maid left the room and the seneschal looked me over, carefully enoug mak make me squirm, before he uttered in a strained voice: "That will do."

Then the door opened and the Elvenking entered, filling the whole room with his presence.

"Thank you, Thaladir. You may leave us."

The seneschal left, and I looked at the king. My gaze was immediately drawn to his right hand. It was naked. Empty. I do not know if I was relieved, or disappointed. Probably both. Thranduil must have seen where I looked, because not esc escaped his senses, sharpened as they were by millennia of scheming and fighting to keep his wooden realm alive, but his reaction was not visible.

"Le abdollen," [You are late] he stated in a cold voice, not at all like Legolas said it in the movie, and then continued: "Did you like it?"

I instantly understood what he was referring to and wondered how the news about my transgressions with the Lórien elves could have reached him so quickly. The king of Mirkwood must have spies at the airport! Or perhaps he was only reading my mind. In any case there was firmness in his voice and I did not dare lie to him. "Yes," I said, trembling and waiting for my doom.

"Well, that is good at least. I would flog any whelp that dares mistreat what is mine."

I could not believe my ears! Thranduil was concerned about my well-being, not angry with me. He chuckled. "No I am not jealous. I am confident I can give you something you will like even better."

Then his eyes flickered dangerously and the chuckle momentarily changed into a smile that can only be described as predatory. I froze and felt the way a small mammal trying to cross a highway must feel the fraction of a second before it is run over.

But nothing happened. The king just strolled over to the desk and briefly studied one of the scrolls that were lying there, before he carelessly swept that, and the heap of others, onto the floor. Then he spoke again, without turning his gaze from the now empty desktop.

"How do you like my desk?"

"Eh... it looks very nice."

The king told me to come over to him and take a closer look, which I did without hesitation, of course. I could not for the life of me understand why the Elvenking had a wish to discuss furniture with me, but I was glad for anything that took his thoughts off my late arrival, even if he seemed not to take it too seriously.

"Feel how smooth it is." I felt it. "Feel how hard it is." I felt that too, and looked closely at the intricate patterns of the graining of the wood, dark veins on chestnut, and then I even leaned forward over it to be able to better see a particularly beautiful pattern close to the far edge. It was a very good desk.

"Now, stay right there."

The king's voice was firm now and did not tolerate contradiction, so I remained standing leaning over the desk with my palms flat against it, but it could not help turning my head to look at him, still not understanding his purpose. Thranduil's gaze hit me with white lightening, sending a bolt through my body that could have short-circuited a small town. I was shocked, and stunned with the intensity of the conflicting emotions he awoke in me.

He stepped next to me. He collected my wrists behind my back and held them there in an iron grip before he pressed me down onto the desk so that the upper part of my body was resting on top of it. Then he lifted my legs with his free hand and pushed me slightly forward, so that my hips were also on the desk and he could remove my underwear with a resolute tug, before he pulled me back towards the edge to let me stand on my feet, bent over the desk with my chest pressed flat against it.

Then he stood behind me and let his hardness press against my rear, hard. But only for a short while, because then he moved to the side and shoved my thin skirt up over my hips. And waited. I sighed. I knew that he was going to either hit me or caress me, but I did not know which and it drove me cra

The king just held me there, for a long time, silently until he finally uttered a single word: "Magnificent!" And then he spanked me. I cried a little at first, as the swatting hand connected with my bottom again and again, but it was my undoing and I soon was very aroused and my loud moans seemed to encourage him to increase the frequency, if not the force. It hurt, but oh so sweetly. It was strangely exciting not to be able to do anything.

And then he stopped and I held my breath not knowing if the king was satisfied with my punishment. "Ah, yes", he said with a throaty growl. "You are too alluring for your own good." I whimpered as I felt his hand on my bottom again, this time caressing slowly, gently until I could not take it anymore and practically begged him to take me. At that, the king chuckled, but his hand moved down between my thighs and his fingers found my crevice and thrust deeply into me, but were removed much to soon. "So wet," he whispered, and then continued "so deliciously sweet."

Then I finally heard what I had been yearning for; the faint rustle of leggings being untied and I spread my legs wantonly to receive the king. His sceptre pounded into me mercilessly and I surrendered under loud moans, the intense pleasure making me scream and lose control completely. The king seemed similarly affected, and he reached his peak groaning loudly, now and then repeating the single word "mine."

Then he withdrew and placed a last slap on my bottom before he pulled me up and turned me to face him.

"That should teach you to obey me without hesitation next time. What do you say now to your king?"

"Le hannon, hîr nín" [Thank you, my lord]. I whispered it, and I had to close my eyes, because it felt so humiliating. I rubbed my wrists and winced as I felt the blood returning to my numb arms.

"Look at me", the king said, in a sharp tone now. "Look at me and say it again."

I lifted my gaze, hesitantly, let it crawl like a frightened chameleon over his chest, then jaw, then nose, then I looked him in the eyes. And felt like drowning and never wanting to see the surface again. It was only when the king took a step towards me that I flinched and the thrall was broken.

"Le hannon, hîr nín." This time I meant it. I was grateful for having had my life turned upside down by this lordly elf.

The king stroked my hair as if I was some kind of pet with silky fur, and then he told me to wait until he would send for me. His voice was soft now, and his eyes kind as he left me, saying: "You will learn. You will discover that there is an amazing amount of freedom in not having a choice."

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

~ Mary ~


I sat, fuming at the laptop screen, as soon as I had stopped reading My Reward, when the king unexpectedly came through the door. I knew better than to try to fool him into thinking I had not been sneaky behind his back, but I refused to meet his gaze.

Feeling unaccountably mutinous, I did not even try to hide my thoughts. I knew he knew what I had just read on-line. I clicked on "Home" at the fan-fic group menu and looked at Haldir's picture on the screen before me. He would never hurt a girl, not Haldir.

"I just think you are the meanest thing that ever lived," I hissed. "Hitting a girl? Did that make you feel big and strong, spanking poor Mal?" He was instantly at my side and the lap-top was thrown into the fire. I lunged after it, like an idiot. Luckily Thranduil was swifter and his arms were around me as he pulled me back against his chest while I stood facing away from him.

The lap-top began to catch fire and melted in sizzling drips within the hearth while emitting alarmingly vivid green and purplish flames and an equally colorful smoke.

With arms crossed in front of me, I sighed out loud as hard as I could. "Oh, very nice. That was very lordly. I am so impressed!" He chuckled. "You better not laugh at me or I will never speak to you again, you big...dumb...girl hitter!" I spat out the last words because I could tell the king was enjoying the heck out of holding me against him with one arm beneath my breasts, while moving his other hand over my belly and thighs, as I stood still as stone before him.

If he had been a human I would have stomped on his foot. I knew better than to try that with the king, or any other elf, as my foot would have only landed hard, heel down, on a suddenly empty stone floor.

It soon became apparent to Thranduil that caressing me back into good humor, while I watched the lap-top burn before me, was not working. His cheek was against mine, as he leaned over me from behind, and I could feel his breath on my face. I fought against the sensations that were being teased out of me despite my fixation of Mal's magnificent hindquarters. And the way I imagined handhands having been all over it. And all over the rest of her.

Why did this bother me? At first, I was more bothered by being bothered than I was really bothered by learning that the king had paid this secret visit to my closest friend. It had never been difficult for me to share the twins with anyone, why should he be any different? I hated the way I felt. But I could not stop feeling it, whatever it was. Why did I get the feeling I was missing something?

"Would it make it any easier," he said as reassuringly as possible, "if I told you she enjoyed it as much as I did?" He had loosened his grip momentarily and, for the first time, misread the state of my emotions. I suppose he was too concerned with restoring his reputation after I called him a "girl-hitter" to have been paying attention to what was going on in my mind. I do not think he was prepared for my reaction because I reflexively leaped out of his embrace and surprised both of us by actually escaping his arms.

"I'm not even trying to hear that!" I shouted at him. The very idea, that such information would make me feel better, propelled me across the room. I had such a good head start that I almost made it to the door before he caught up with me.

He caught me at the shoulder and I spun around and dove under his arm and got all the way across the room before he tackled me onto the bed and held me there, flat on my back, with his hands at my shoulders and my hips pinned beneath his. I looked off to the side because I knew if I looked him in the eyes, right then, I would have ended up naked very quickly.

And I was not ready to be naked with an elf that tackles and spanks girls. I crossed my arms across my chest.

"Look at me," he said calmly. I knew better than that. It was hard enough to resist his voice, which seemed to reach inside of me, deep inside of me, and touch places in my soul that I had never known existed. He lowered himself upon me, wedging himself between my legs after nudging them apart with his knee, not really allowing his full weight to press against me, just enough to keep me still.

"No."

He put his hand to my chin and turned my face to his. He said, even more quietly, "Look at me." Through my gown, through his leggings, I could feel the growing heat of his lust, his arousal, nudging at me between my legs. The sensation filled my head like wine. I felt as if I were fighting myself more than I fought him.

"No." I closed my eyes. "I don't have to look at you, and, guess what...?" I pulled my arms up to put my fingers into my ears, "I don't have to listen to you, either." Then I did something that the twins would do to me, when they did not want to hear something that I had to say to them, which would annoy me to no end. I began to sing, very loud, "Hum-ditty, hum-ditty, I'm not listening, hum-ditty…"

The king lifted his weight off of me for a second and I rolled off the bed as quick as I could and, of course, was caught at the waist before I even got both feet on the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed and drew me back onto his lap. "You will look at me." His tone was matter-of-fact and lethal.

"I'm not listening, hum-ditty..." I began again with my fingers in my ears. With only one free hand at his disposal he began to quickly unfasten my gown at the back and so I held my elbows tightly crossed over my breasts, having learned something from reading Mal's encounter, which made it hard for him to draw the gown down farther than my upper arms.

"You will obey me," he said. He sounded amused.

"Wrong!" I shouted. I am no match in muscle power with even the smallest, shyest, elf in Middle Earth and here I was at the mercy of perhaps the greatest warrior Elfking in Tolkien history. He had no problem removing the gown, leaving me in my undershift, by uncrossing my arms easily, and pulled it off carefully without damaging it. He stood up and lifted me with him and carried me, purposefully, over towards the chair beside the fireplace. "Oh, what are you going to do now?" I cried. "Spank me until I yell uncle? Go ahead, do your worst, beat me until I die!"

He sat me, quite gently for how awfully I was behaving, on the flag-stone floor in front of the chair and then, while holding me there with one hand, tore my undershift off of me with one swift tug at my neckline. He lifted the pieces of the silky fabric to his teeth and tore off a strip of it as I watched him in amazement. I was sure he had suddenly lost his mind. Until he took my wrists and bound them together behind my back with the strip of cloth and then tied them to the chair leg.

I sat there, just sat there, stunned, naked and tied to the chair, and, without looking up at him, said, very slowly and calmly, "Wow, king, you sure know how to show a girl a good time."

"Well, yes, I do, as a matter of fact," the king agreed, "and that is what I am about to prove to you." He walked over to the chamber door. I had the horrible thought that he was going to leave me sitting there, tied up, and go away for a while to teach me a lesson. He grabbed the door handle and said, "There is someone here that will join us. I have chosen her for my concubine and she has sworn her allegiance to me."

"Why do I have to meet her?" I shouted as I looked at his face, into his eyes, then instantly regretted that I had done so, but was able to look away again, ooh, he had almost caught me! "I don't want to meet her! Is that what you wanted me to come her for, to watch you bed your latest female acquisition? How sick is that?"

"It is very important to me that you meet, and approve of, her. And it is, indeed, one of the reasons that I invited you to come here."


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

~ Mal ~


I stayed in that room for perhaps an hour, perhaps more. I do not know as thers nos no sunlight and I did not wear a watch even at home, so I had not thought of bringing one here. The scrolls that Thranduil had so carelessly swept to the floor awoke my curiosity, but they were all empty, or written in a script that I could not read. Still it disturbed me to see them lying there, so I put them back in their previous place.

I ate some of the fruit that was in a big bowl on a table near the desk, and studied the few titles in the bookcase. Most of theemedemed to deal with warfare, a topic I found both grim and dull, but there was a thin volume of poetry that I took with me as I sat in the chair. It was a big mistake, as it would not have been soft even to a backside not having been exposed to the king's attention so recently. Fortunately, I still had my own clothes, so I put them under me and was quite comfortable lying on my belly on the floor with the book in front of me. I must even have slept for a while, because I did not notice when the seneschal came back.

"It is time," he said in an expressionless voice, and motioned for me to follow him, frowning at the still life of my crumpled clothes and the open book on the floor. I wanted to pick them up, but the seneschal shook his head. "It is time," he said again, and now I think I almost heard a hint of regret in his voice. I felt a little guilty that the dignified elf would have to return to take care of my mess, but followed him without a word. He did not seem to be much for conversation anyway.

As the seneschal led me through the palace I studied the thick carved doors and the silent sentinels that seemed to be posted everywhere, and, when we seemed to be approaching the inner part of the palace, I could not help wondering just how many elids ids he had led down this path before me. And if they had felt the same as I; fear and excitement and anticipation. I did not fear the king's wrath any longer, but was suddenly afraid not to meet his expectations, which was foolish, since I at the same time felt immensely proud of having been chosen by this lordly elf who, of that I was sure, could have anything and anyone he fancied.

Then we stood outside another thick oak door, more intricately decorated than any I had seen before, and I understood that we had reached the room where my wishes would be fulfilled. Or not. The royal bedchamber.

The door opened and I could hear voices and a terrible scene was revealed to my eyes.

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

~ Mary ~


I closed my eyes defiantly, again, and turned my head away as soon as I heard the door swing open and then, after a moment, I heard a familiar voice gasp, "Mary!"

I looked over to the door and had to gasp myself, "Mal!"

I do not know which of us was more shocked to see the other.

She instantly started towards me but Thranduil anticipated her reaction and prevented her from coming to my assistance. She spoke to him rapidly in a low, angry voice and it took a moment to realize she was speaking Elvish.

The king said something in reply, I could not understand his words, but there was a warning tone in his voice. He grabbed the back of her head by the hair with one hand and I do not know who gasped louder, her or me. But, in her eyes I saw a flicker of something that surprised me, not anger, or pain, or fear, but something that more closely resembled excitement, or lust. Then he kissed her deeply, almost ferociously.

At first, Mal held her arms stiffly at her sides but, within seconds, she slowly moved her hands up the king's body and then around his neck. She rose up on her toes as she moved closer to him, sealing her body to his, with only the vaporous-looking veils of her dress between her and him.

For a moment, I was too intrigued by the power he seemed to have over her to even feel jealous. When he broke off the kiss, she put her head to his shoulder and whispered something. He took her by the forearm and led her over to his bed as I watched against my will, not able to drag my eyes away from them.

My mind raced as realization after realization occurred to me. This must have been the "minor emergency" that the king had to leave the breakfast table to attend to, and, what is more, he must have wanted me undressed, and in bed, when he brought her into the chamber to join us.

I watched as he ordered her to undress herself, which she did without hesitation. I watched as he ordered her to undress him, which she did quickly and efficiently. I watched as he lifted her to his bed, and then I stopped watching. I sat with my eyes closed and wished for a sword with which to hack the king to pieces. I heard nothing for a long time so I peeked and in front of my eyes were the king's legs. He was standing right before me.

"You will join us," he said.

"I will not." I said to his shins, "I don't get into bed with kings who hit girls and pull their hair. You go right on ahead and do what you want, leave me out of this. No offense, Mal."

"I want you to join us," said the king, again, firmly.

"So? I want a lot of things, too, doesn't mean I get to have them." I turned my back to his shins as far as I could with my hands tied behind me. "Go ahead. Have fun. Leave me alone."

"Perhaps I should leave..." said Mal. Her voice sounded sad and resigned, as if to some awful preordained fate, andhearheart went out to her. What had Thranduil told her to expect? I could only wonder. "I think I should go now..." she said with a sigh, and I heard her bare feet hit the floor.

"You will stay right where you are, and be silent," said the king to Mal and I heard him go over to the bed. "And I know just how to keep you quiet." I held my breath expecting to hear a slap, or another gasp, but there were no clearly identifiable sounds for a few moments and the almost silence was unnerving me.

t b c

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