Of Pleasure and Peril

Of Pleasure and Peril

Chapter Four

by Tasmia Gaylord

beta: Novelin

Rating: Hard NC 17

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

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

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

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

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

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Chapter 4

King Thranduil slumped in his chair and scowled with
annoyance as he watched his house elves scurrying
about his chambers in an effort to unpack his travel
gear and prepare his meal and light the fire and
candelabras as quickly as they possibly could having
been caught off-guard by his unexpected reappearance
to home.


"Where is she?" He growled to his Head house elf,
Thole, who stood next te Kie King as he directed the
activities before him with hand gestures and the
occasional lifted eyebrow.


"But, sire, be reasonable," Thole replied nervously,
"you have only just arrived within the last few
moments and ordered her bathed and dressed for
breakfast...and that takes time, my lord." He grinned
in supplication and gave a small, respectful bow to
the King all the while nodding reassuringly while
little beads of moisture popped out along his
forehead. Thranduil resisted the sudden urge to lunge
forward and strangle the grinning fool, just barely,
and instead slumped down further in his chair and
drummed unhappy fingers on the arm.


He knew he was being unreasonable but he could not
help himself for some reason and this irritated him
more than a whole host of warg-riding orcs ever could
have done. It had been bad enough that he had been
interrupted in his punishment chamber by the
appearance of his daughter at the door, but, even
before he could react, her sudden appearance was
followed by the reappearance of his dungeon guards
with an important announcement.


"Sire! You're son, Legolas, and his Ranger
companions, Elladan and Elrohir, have just arrived
from their scouting venture and report a host of orcs
entering Dol Guldur, they most anxiously desire an
audience, Sire." Thranduil had reluctantly released
the elleth, Tulare, from his arms and covered her
swiftly with his robe before the greedy eyes of his
guards drank in any more of her charms. Take her to
my rooms, give her a private suite and lock her in until
I return," he barked as he lifted the young elleth and
delivered her to one of the guards. She smiled
tenderly at him as she was carried up and away from
him and it was all he could do to stop himself from
rushing to take her from the guard and carry this
suddenly precious cargo himself. Instead he turned to
the other guard and ordered some suitable clothing be
brought to him and would have then turned to his
disobedient daughter except that at the sound of her
brother's name, Legolas, she had given out a happy
squeal and ran upstairs to greet him. 'Good,'
thought Thranduil to himself, 'I will deal with her
later, let her brother keep her occupied while I
dress."


In his Throne Room waited his son and the two sons of
Elrond, the Rivendell Rangers, with their disturbing
account of their latest scouting foray to Dol Guldur.

"Father, there were at least four score of orcs and
several dozen warg-riders seen approaching the tower,
far too many for the three of us to deal with
adequately," explained his son serenely in his
maddeningly calm manner. Thranduil noticed the
less-than-respectful appearance in his sons eyes, as
he stood before him to give his report, and wondered
what Sayri had managed to tell her brother before he,
himself, was dressed appropriately and able to take
back some small measure of control over the situation.

"Lord Thranduil," Elladan began then paused to give a
Ranger salute to the elven King, "we are most
mystified by the sudden appearance of these creatures
on this side of the river without any report from the
Lothlorien Border Guards on their side, we do not
believe they come from Moria."


"Indeed," proclaimed his twin, Elrohir, who paused to
give a similar salute before proceeding, "It is
unknown for any size cny ony of orc to pass fair
Lothlorien and not be tracked along every step of the
way. We have sent runners to the Lady to further
investigate this puzzle."

Thranduil almost smiled at Elrond's sons, as they stood
so dignified and lethal before him. He admired their
arrogant attitude in posture with legs spread, one
crooked arm holding a mithril helm beneath it with the
other hand rested casually at their respective sword
hilts strapped to their lean torsos. st mst mirror
images of each other they were distinguishable by
their clothing, Elladan in powdery blues and greys;
Elrohir in dark greens and golds. Dark haired, grey
eyed and elven fair they stood at ease before him.

'Why could not Legolas grow to be a warrior such as
these?' he asked himself, not for the first time, and
snorted suddenly aloud as he further realized that
their own father had become soft and bookwormish since
the Battle of the Last Alliance and yet still managed
to raise good soldiers.

"Perhaps," he had finally said aloud, "these orcs
travel not from Mordor but come up from the
Southwest?"


Legolas looked a bit puzzled at the suggestion but the
Imladris Twins instantly caught on to the thread and
said, in unison, "Saruman!"


"Indeed," replied Thranduil, "we ride out at once,
this type of flanking maneuver must be discouraged by
swift answer to the threat!" He descended his throne
and strode out to summon some of his trusted riders
and best archers for the impending hunt. They had
only been on their way less than an hour when a pang
of regret, an interestingly new sensation for him,
touched Thranduil's heart as he realized he had not
said his farewells to the girl, Tulare.


And from that point on he could not remove her from
his mind no matter how difficult the roads became or
how evil the darkness of night felt as it descended
and signaled the beginning of real dangers for the
small band of orc hunters. Spiders were an ever
present danger in the forests near the Tower of Dol
Guldur and no one was more aware of the sly clever
venomous creatures than the King himself, having
survived several of their fanged attack during his
career in Mirkwood. His senses should have been on
full alert, his elvish eyes should have been turned to
the trees above to catch a glimpse of their approach,
but, instead all of his senses seemed turned inward as
he caught himself over and over again revisiting the
punishment chamber in hind and and reliving tiny
moments without desiring to do so.


Her eyes, the way they seemed to swallow him in
absolute acceptance of his cruel desires, he would see
them before him instead of tree or bush or open trail.
He blessed his choice of mount for the steed below
him had traveled this orc-hunting path many, many
times before and knew the way as well as any elf.
Again and again he would wrestle his mind away from
the memory of the elleth and the chamber and endeavor
to focus on the road and the troubles before him and
time and time again he would find himself lost in
reminiscence. Her skin, the way it felt as his hands
traveled down her sides and over hip or cupped a soft
breast...he would groan aloud, to his utter
embarrassment, and, after a few such groans were
emitted, his son lagged back to ride beside him.


"Are you in pain, Father?" He asked and Thranduil
thought he caught a teasing undertone to the question.forefore he could reply one of the forward scouts
returned and hissed, "Yrch!" which caused the company
of elves to immediately dismount and draw bows or
swords in readiness.


Thranduil remembered the fight as if it were a waking
nightmare, how the orcs had been larger and more human
like than any others he had encountered. They armor
they wore was of a different make and appeared almost
elvish, or, at the very least, less Mordor-like than
usual. Before he could think to give an order to save
one for questioning the whole host was slaughtered,
with the Imladris Twins leading the mayhem with their
drawn and quickly blooded swords.


It was at this point that Thranduil drew his son aside
and told him to proceed onto Dol Guldur without him;
he suddenly had remembered some unfinished business in
Mirkwood that needed attending to and would e
ie
immediately. Legolas's confused look was almost more
than he could bear for never before had he backed out
of a good fight or laid aside a chance to kill orcs
before this minute and he knew his son would think him
mad or ill. "Son," he said, putting a hand on his
sons slender shoulder, "These Ranger companions of
yours are more than sufficient for this task. This is
obviously some type of test run for our wizard friend
in Isengard, I noticed his badge on arm armor of these
filthy creatures, and needs to be dealt with, swiftly,
I leave it to you. I don't think Middle Earth is in
immediate peril from Orthanc." That said, the King
had turned for home and rode off at a gallop while his
son stood watching after him in the grayish light of
early dawn.

It had taken him all that morning to reach his gates
and he flung himself off of his horse in the wide,
cavernous courtyard hewn into the earth below the
forest floor while his alarmed attendants ran out to
greet him from the various hallways leading out like
the spokes of half of a wheel on the interior of the
enormous cave's entrance. His House Elf, Thole, had
been immediately dispatched to fetch Tulare from her
private rooms, have her bathed and dressed for dining
and delivered to his private chambers at once to share
his breakfast with him. A high honor to bestow upon
any elleth, even a high born one such as her.

And now he sat drumming his finges hes he waited on
the lass and shifted with impatience in his usually
comfortable chair. He could smell horse on himself
and it displeahim.him. "Thole!" he barked, "bring me
fresh clothes at once, and a basin and towel!" He
stood suddenly energized as he looked down at his
travel stained clothes and grimed hands. He suddenly
could not stand himself and he could not imagine that
he ever really had.