Of Pleasure and Peril

Of Pleasure and Peril
Chapter Five/?
by Tasmia Gaylord
Beta: Novelin
Rating: Hard NC 17
Warning: graphic S&M type situations but not too harsh, explicit sex
Disclaimer:The Tolkein characters are borrowed for private use in this story, I do not claim to own them and have no intentions of profiting from them
Summary: King Thranduil meets his match in his private punishment chamber with amazing consequences for all parties involved
Pairings: Thranduil/OFC , Legolas/OFC Elrond/OFC Haldir/OFC and perhaps some others, who knows?
Feedback: Post it here or you can send me an email "Tasmia7@yahoo.com"

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As soon as she was carried out of the punishment chamber, and up to the King's living quarters, Tulare began to have second thoughts about the wisdom of her plans. In all of her fevered imaginings of what it would be like to spend only a little time in the presence of the man of her girlish dreams she had never gotten further than her intitial goal. To be near him, to touch him, and to feel him touch her, and take her sexually while her father bore witness, was as far as her mind could travel and even there it had never traveled very far. She was not a virgin but she had never joined with any male elf much older than herself or more experienced. She had usually feisapisappointed in her joinings, however, and always kept her eyes closed so that she could imagine it was her Lord, Thranduil, who huffed and puffed above her. She could not have foreseen the passion he would invoke or the tenderness he would display and she was dazed at her own success.

But when she was being taken into the long, forbidden entry hall to the Kings quarters, a place she had never visited, she began to feel panicky and regretful. "What must mother be thinking?' she asked herself, "and father, oh dear, where is he? What will Thranduil do to him?' She looked around her as she was carried into a large foyer where many ornately carved doors stood either closed or open down a long, wide hallway. She heard whispers and murmurs as she was carried through one large portal and down a short hall and taken into a smaller area with seperate sleeping chambers and deposited on a small divan in one of the rooms. Clutching the silken robe tightly about her, with which the King had covered her before handing her to the guard, Tulare shivered in the chilly little room while one of Thranduil's house elves built and lit a fire and another made up the bed in a small sleeping alcove with fresh linens and a velvety coverlet.

When finished they stepped out of the room together and conversed quietly and speculatively about her with the dungeon guard who had delivered her as if she could not hear them. The lr ofr of the two house elves, he had introduced himself to her as "Thole," asked the guard about Thranduil's intentions and the other house elf, "Tarcrist" as he was referred to by Thole, had snickered at the accounting of the King's orders to the guard to lock the elleth away. "Is this not the daughter of Arthame? Is that not punishment enough?" The voices fell farther away as the guard began filling the ears of two house elves of the night's activities in the chambers below.

Tulare's face burned as the full impact of her foolishness began to slowly take realization within her. Would the guard tell them how shamelessly she had behaved with the King before her father; how she had dared to enjoy her part in the punishment instead of fighting or crying or begging for mercy? Indeed, it was common knowledge among all the daughters of the high born that the best way to handle such a fate with their Lord was to scream loudly and pathetically until ost ost patience with the whole noisy ordeal. Her Aunty, Nufea, would always provoke a giggle with the line, "It is hard to maintain an erection with a broken ear-drum." Even if ordered gagged a she-elf could make a lot of noises to indicate her level of suffering and it was always advised to over exagerrate the moans, groans, whimpers and whines else tempting the King to try all the more harder to evoke them himself!

As the memory swept over her she could feel the heat return, her breasts tingled and she began to feel tiny spots of moisture dew up on the skin of her chest and forehead. She lifted the robe away from herself and fanned it slightly to feel cooler and as she did the odor of their coupling rose up to fill her head and raise her temperature even higher. The space between her legs began to swell and throb with her growing arousal as she played over in her head her joining with Thranduil. His masculine scent was easily discernible as it clung to the interior of his robe and her skin which added to her desire to be near him. But the sore agitated flesh in her most private areas felt uncomfortable and almost painful as she became aroused and she had to stand and walk to ease her breathing and try to find some peace of mind. Perhaps if she crawled into her bed and rested there quietly she could cool her self down and restore her sense of inner balance.

What would happen when he returned? She imagined him coming in through the door and pushing her on the bed and taking her again without pause and her heart hammered with a mixture of fear and anticipation. The sound of approaching footsteps in the hall froze her as she paced but when she saw it was only the house elf, Thole, followed by two elf maids, she was almost crushed with disappointment. The maids had brought her a gown to sleep in and to help prepare her for bed. She had never had such attentions before in her own home. Her mother did hire a house maid, a wild wood elf, Averfad, from the forest near Dol Gurdur whose family had sought refuge in Mirkwood when their woodlands had been invaded by spiders and orcs, but she was careless and hot tempered and mostly helped with cooking and heavy cleaning and never entered their sleeping rooms. She bore the scars of spider attack on her arms and neck and Tulare had always been wary around her avo avoided her as much as was possible and would never had asked her for help with her hair or clothes.

But these maids of the royal house were gentle and sweet and soon had her coaxed into the bed, with her hair having been combed out and rebraided into one long, thick sleeping braid, before slipping silently out of her room and closing the door behind them. After a moment she heard the unmistakable click of the doorlock and she jumped, startled by the sound. She sat straight up and went to test the door and tugged at it uselessly; it was true, she was locked in for the night. Would the King ever come to her this night? Why would he have her locked in? Was he afraid she would run away and hide from him? Her mind reeled with unanswerable questions as she crawled back into the bed. For many long hours she lay in the darkness and waited for her fate to unfold.


The next day Tulare was startled from her sleep by Thole and the house maids and escorted to a large, ornately decorated bathing chamber and ordered to enter the brass tub that awaited her there. She felt as if she had only just finally fallen to sleep, after tossing and turning for almost the entire night she had spent in her new surroundings, and she felt numbed by the sudden shift in activity she was being forced into without explanation. She had been given a short, si con constructed sleeping shift which she was reluctant to remove before the curious, inquisitive glances of the maids who followed along with her and began laying fresh clothing, drying cloths and various soaps and shampoos on the long shelf along the length of one wall. She wondered what they thought and what they had been saying to each other about her since she had been delivered to her private rooms the night before. Finally she gave in after dipping her hand in the steamy water and smelling the fragrance of lavendar in the tub.

There was a little step stool for her to climb in with for the tub was large and deep. She felt as if she were swimming in one of the underground pools formed by diversion of river waters that flowed within and through the cavernous halls of Mirkwood. She held onto the edge of the tub and allowed herself to float in the sweet enveloping warmth and wondered what other luxuries there were that only the members of the Royal House indulged themselves with, such as her bed with its fine coverlet and soft linens and hou house maids to help with shampooing her hair.

She had been raised as a High Born Elf but she did not live that much differently from the ordinary elves who inhabited Mirkwood. Luxuries were few and far between as the hoarded wealth of the King was used sparingly and rarely, if at all. Tulare wondered how long her change of fortune would last as she was dressed by the elf maids in a soft, heathery hued gown and had her hair brushed before the fire to dry it before being braided away from her face. Before this day only her own mother had ever touched or styled her hair and she was rarely patient with the way her waves and curls would escape her sleeping braid and snarl and tangle themselves while she slept. She felt hungry and sick at the same time.

"May I have something to eat?" she asked one of the maids after her stomach rumbled loudly in distress.

"M'Lord, Thranduil, will breakfast with you in his chambers after we have you finished,\swerswered the soft spoken elleth. The news stunned Tulare temporarily and then her spirits lifted in happy anticipation of being with the King again after all of her anxiety and anticipation from the night before had finally abated. The maids led her before a long, full length mirror and she gasped at the sight of herself within it. She carefully touched the intricate braidwork around her temples and forehead and stroked her hands down her torso as she admired the elegant lines of the gown she was given. Her stomach seemed to clutch her from the inside all of a sudden and she had the sudden urge to tear off the gown and race out of the room and back to her father's dwelling before this insane game she had initiated turned even more dangerous. "I do not belong here," she told herself, "I do not even recognize myself." But there was Thole in the open doorway offering her escort to the King's private chambers and there was no time left to plan or attempt an escape.

Although her private rooms and the bathing chamber were more luxurious than her own bedroom and bathing room in her father's dwelling rooms, the magnificent interior of the King's chambers made them appear shabby by comparison. Everything seemed to gleam with touches of mithril enlaid or embossed on every piece of furniture or carved piece of woodwork and brilliant pools of light poured out within the rooms which almost blinded her as she wed ted to the table in the center of the room. The chambers were deep underground but long, thin, tubelike holes had been cleverly bored up to the surface to let natural sunlight enter the darkened atmosphere. She was seated and barely noticed the house elves who scurried about her as they laid the table with the last of the hastily prepared breakfast foods which were being brought in by the cooking staff. King Thranduil was nowhere in sight and she wondered, with a suddenly sinking heart, if he had already eaten while she was being dressed and gone about his business for the day. A door opened somewhere in the deep shadows across the room and when he stepped into the light of the solar tube, Tulare stifled an awed gasp.

His hair shone as it flowed about his shoulders and clean, tight braids had been woven at his temples which pulled his eyes into a slightly slanted angle which emphasized his wolf-like features. He was fully clothed this day and he stood still for a moment in the dazzling light as if to impress her with his majesty. Tulare's throat seemed suddenly restricted as she attempted to speak respectfully in greeting to him. She reached awkwardly for the tea she had been poured and clattered the delicate porcelain cup against its saucer as she lifted it to her lips and sipped before speaking.

"Good day to you, Tulare," the King said as he sat at the end of the table opposite to her and lifted his napkin from his plate to spread over his lap. All the while he never took his eyes from her face.

"And also to you, Lord," she managed to whisper as she took her own napkin and imitated him.
All of those years of her youth her mother had lectured her about table etiquette and right at that moment Tulare regretted her resistance to her mother's patient instructions. What little she had paid attention to now seemed irretrievable to her mind as she sat dizzily in her chair and waited for the King to begin eating before daring to touch her own food. The serving elves busily loaded her plate with sliced eggs and meat and cleverly slivered greens. She groaned inwardly at the sight of all that food and her previously ravenous appetite fled entirely as she stared in agony at her breakfast. The King seemed unaffected by her reaction and started eating calmly while she sat in nauseous despair.

She slowly and carefully lifted her tea cup and sipped at it while the King cleaned his plate and the serving elves refilled it, all the while not touching her own breakfast, and felt slightly faint as the odor of the eggs and meat seemed to torment her growing physical unease. She drew in a long, shuddering breath and felt as if she might faint.

"Is there something amiss with your breakfast, madam," the King asked gently.

"No! It's fine, it's perfect, it's, oh, I do not know, I do not feel very hungry, my lord." Tulare felt flustered and feverish under the cool regard of Thranduil's silvery grey eyes.

"You should try some of the venison, the cook has outdone himself this morning, it is tender enough to cut with a fork." To demonstrate, he carved a small piece of the meat from his own plate and lifted it to him mouth. Tulare steeled herself and used her fork to cut the gravy covered meat upon her own plate and willed her hand to stop shaking as she tucked it into her mouth. The savory flavor of the meat was delicious but she had difficulty swallowing the morsel and needed to wash it down with more tea. Her Lord watched her but made no further comment as she hastily laid the fork back on her plate and wiped her mouth with the napkin. After a few moments he beckoned one of the serving elves to his side and spoke quietly to him before returning to his own plate. The serving elf left the room and returned swiftly with a small bowl which he then placed before Tulare while removing her breakfast plate with his other hand. Within the bowl was a mound of cut fruits and berries covered with thick cream Tul Tulare's stomach unwound itself at the sight. This treat did not seem so daunting and she carefully spooned some into her mouth. Her appetite roared back and she finished the fruit and cream quickly, not even once bothering to regard the King's reactions, and sat back when finished in satisfaction.

Thranduil's empty plate was removed and a similar bowl of fruit and cream was served to him while Tulare's tea cup was refilled and a plate full of small, brown muffins was placed before her with a small dish of butter pats laid at its side. She ate most of them before the King had finished with his bowl and felt less dizzy and tired when she was finished. He then rose from his seat and Tulare felt a tickle of fear as his face grew stern as he regarded her. He held out a hand to her.

"Come with me," he said and Tulare rose nervously from her seat and took his hand and was led into a large alcove containing nothing more than a huge bed with carved posts enlaid with mithril and gems and velvety drapes which framed the gorgeous embroidered coverlet spread upon it. Tulare could feel her knees weaken as he drew her along and she felt her stomach begin to squeeze again as her anxiety rose. Thranduil sat her on the edge of the bed and gently pushed her by the shoulders until she was on her back. He turned and left her there for a moment and she could hear him opening drawers and shutting them before he returned and sat beside her. He was carrying a small container similar to the one he had drawn the healing salve from the night before in the chambers below and he placed it on a small shelf carved into the head board behind her.

Tulare's heart banged painfully as he lifted the skirt of her gown up to her belly and removed her dainty under pants. He then gently spread her legs and examined her there, gently parting her nether lips, before pausing to reach for the salve container. He lathered her generously with the cooling ointment, closed her parted legs and drew her gown back down to her knees. "You are healing well," he said. Then he stood and looked down at her face with an inscrutable expression on his face. It was hard to tell if he was disgusted with her or aroused by her but he simply stood and gazed at her while she waited on his command. His hand came down to her face and he stroked her cheek down to her chin with a long forefinger before drawing back with a small smile crooking the side of his mouth. "I think you need more rest, you appear exhausted, stay here, I will return." With that said he whirled away from her and strode from the room in a seeming hurry to be away from her.

Fresh, hot tears streamed uncontrollably from her eyes as she lay in bewilderment in the alcove and wondered what she had done to displease him so much that he could not bear to be with her, let alone join with her; but the combination of food, warm bath and lack of sleep quickly overtook her shattered nerves and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. "Will he return?" was her last concious thought.