This, And My Heart Beside *added ch. 20/part 1*

HET WARNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! To those who hate the stuff, I strongly recommend you pass on this one. I loved writing it, though (I'm madly in love with the King); my very first het. Thranduil and Naniel are the stars of this chapter. I really hope everyone will like it (or at least not be sickened by it *g*). Also, I took liberties with Elven physiology; Tolkien makes it quite clear that they're very different from us, anyway. :o)


CHAPTER 8


The night of Legolas’ begetting day celebration was one to remember, not only for Belorfilad and Uriong. After putting a very exhausted Prince into his bed, Thranduil returned to his bedchamber. Naniel sat at her dressing table, brushing her burnished blonde hair.

“Is he asleep?” she asked, turning to smile at her husband.

“Almost immediately,” Thranduil chuckled. “He has had a very eventful day.”

Naniel rose and walked to where the King stood before his armoire, removing his robe. She carried two full glasses of the wine Anylinde had given them. “Do you think he enjoyed himself?” she wondered, as she handed a glass to him. He nodded his thanks and drank.

“Oh yes, I have no doubt of that. Mmm, this is excellent wine. I saw Hilith in the corridor after I put Legolas to bed. He tells me that our son has shown quite a penchant for archery. And so has Isalith. I should pass that on to Tyrion and Anylinde; they may wish to encourage him to pursue it, if he is interested.” After they’d taken several sips of the wine, he set their glasses on a nearby cabinet. Having red hed his robe, he stood in a simple blue tunic and gray leggings. Reaching for Naniel, he pulled her close and wound strong arms around her waist.

“What about *you*, my beloved? Did you enjoy yourself today?” he murmured, kissing her forehead.

She leaned into his embrace. “How could I not enjoy myself while in the company of my two favorite Elves?”

“Hmmm,” Thranduil rested his chin on her head, content to remain like that for a time.

After a few moments, Naniel leaned back to gaze up at her husband. “You are weary, my love?” she asked in concern.

“I am,” he replied softly. The Queen tilted her lovely head to the side, giving him a coquettish smile.

“How … weary *are* you?”

A devilish smile appeared on his lips. “Not as weary as you may think. Why? What do you have in mind, my wife?”

Naniel opened the neckline of the tunic he wore and stood on tiptoes to kiss the base of his throat. Her tongue flicked out to dip into the hollow there, and he shuddered.

“What I have in mind, my King, is to hold another celebration in honor of our son’s begetting day, with only the two of us in attendance. That is, of course, *if* you are not overly tired.” She added the last statement with a hint of challenge in her voice.

Thranduil looked down at her and smiled playfully. “Oh, I believe I can rouse myself sufficiently for the occasion,” he quipped.

“I have something that I think will help you with that,” Naniel replied mysteriously. She turned and walked to her dressing table, where she picked up the flask of perfume Anylinde had given her days earlier. Opening the bottle, she tipped it and allowed only a few small drops to fall onto the tips of her fingers, mindful of Anylinde’s warning to exercise moderation when applying the perfume. Naniel dabbed it gently behind her ears and knees, and between her breasts. Replacing the stopper, she set the perfume on the dressing table and turned to face her husband again.

“So, is this to be a quiet, intimate celebration?” Thranduil asked innocently.

The Queen smiled seductively as she walked toward him. “Intimate, most definitely …. Quiet is optional.” A shiver ran through the King at the tone of her voice. She pressed herself against him again.

“Do you like it, my Lord?” she asked, referring to the perfume.

He bent his blonde head and buried his face in her hair at the side of her neck, inhaling deeply. A soft sigh of appreciation escaped his lips and his breath tickled her neck. He kissed the soft flesh there, murmuring, “Ah, ‘tis wonderful, Naniel.”

Thranduil continued to kiss the warm porcelain column of her graceful neck, brushing her hair aside in order to gain better access. The longer he kissed his wife, the more heavenly the perfume smelled; and the more heavenly the perfume smelled, the more he hungered for the taste of her skin. His own skin was beginning to feel feverishly warm to him. Distractingly so. Breaking contact with Naniel, he quickly stripped off his tunic. Her eyes widened in surprise. She was about to ask if he was feeling all right, when he turned her around and pressed himself against her back, clasping her shoulders gently but firmly. Bending his head, he again fastened his lips on her neck and began kissing and nipping the tender skin. She sighed and leaned back into his embrace, reaching behind her to stroke the backs of his thighs. He moaned softy and intensified his ministrations. He seemed suddenly ravenous. Naniel let her head fall back to lie on his shoulder. The soft blue color of the filmy nightdress she wore always appealed to Thranduil; he thought it looked wonderful on her. Now, he wanted nothing more than to see her *out* of it. He slipped one shoulder of it off, sliding it down to her elbow, exposing a porcelain breast. When he reached around to cup it in the palm of his hand, she gasped, as much from the intense heat of his skin as from the exquisite sensation. Thranduil slowly, deliberately, drew lazy circles across her nipple with the palm of his hand while he gently sucked the sensitive flesh at the junction of her neck and shoulder. She whimpered and clutched his buttocks, pulling him more tightly against her, and she felt his need. He released her breast and began gathering up the fabric of the nightdress, raising the hem higher and higher. It glided caressingly over her skin, until it reached her waist, and he held it there with one hand while the other slid insistently between her legs to stroke the warm velvet skin of her inner thigh.

“Thranduil,” Naniel whispered almost deliriously.

His fingers lightly brushed against her, tormenting her, coming close, but never quite touching the core of her pleasure. Her breath came in shallow pants now and she gripped his wrist to stop him.

“Please, my darling, don’t tease me like this. I cannot stand it anymore. I need you *now*”, she pleaded.

The Elven King yielded and led his wife to their bed. Naniel smiled gratefully and knelt before him. Taking the waist of his leggings in her hands, she gently pulled them down and he stepped out of them. She arose slowly, her eyes taking in every inch of his hard, lean body. She never grew tired of looking at him. Although she herself was tall in stature, her husband towered above her, and his lithe form still excited her, even after centuries of marriage.

Thranduil felt the same about his cherished wife. In his eyes, her beauty blossomed more everyday. He smiled tenderly as he reached to sliown own the other shoulder of her gown, and the garment slipped soundlessly to the floor. Her body was breathtaking; slender and willowy, with a tiny waist and breasts that were rather full for an Elven female. He lifted her easily and set her on the bed carefully, before joining her. They made love as they hadn’t done in some time, Thranduil kneeling on the bed, holding her hips firmly as he pulled her against him, starved to be deeper inside her. Naniel’s long graceful legs rested on his broad shoulders as she writhed beneath him, her carefully brushed hair disheveled now as her head flung back and forth in delirious pleasure.

Later, when their breathing had quieted, Thranduil retrieved the glasses of wine, and they drank to the wonderful night when their precious son had been conceived. They fell asleep in each other’s arms shortly after that. It had been a very good day, indeed.


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Thranduil awoke to the sounds of Naniel retching in the wash room of their bedchamber. He leapt from the bed and hurried to her.

“Naniel?” he asked, concerned.

She leaned over a large basin, heaving violently and he went to her to hold her hair back, as he gently stroked her back.

“My love, when did *this* start?” he asked, worried.

When finally a break occurred in her vomiting, she replied breathlessly, “Just a few moments ago. I suspect the wine. Are you feeling well?” She looked at him closely. He looked as healthy as ever.

Thranduil frowned slightly. “Yes, I am fine; do you think the wine was strostrong? It was much richer than our own wine. Perhaps it was too much.”

“Perhaps,” was all she could manage, before another bout of retching began.

“I will fetch one of the healers,” the King said. “He can give you something to calm you. Will you be all right alone for a moment?”

Naniel nodded, unable to reply with words.

Only a few moments later, when Thranduil returned with Culas, one of the more experienced healers in the palace, his wife sat quietly on the side of the bed, looking very tired and wan.

She smiled weakly at them both, and held out her hand to her husband. Going to her side, the King took her hand in both of his and sat beside her.

Culas approached her and looked closely at her face. “The King tells me you have been quite unwell this morning. I do not care for your coloring at this moment; I can tell you that without even examining you.” He set a large bag on the bed beside her. She knew it held herbs and other healing plants. With any luck, he wouldn’t require her to drink any foul-tasting brews. She didn’t think her stomach could take it.

Culas looked into her eyes; they were clear and alert. Very good. He placed his hand lightly on her abdomen. Whatever had caused her to vomit had apparently passed. Her stomach felt perfectly calm now. Placing two fingers on the side of her neck, he felt for her heartbeat, his head bent in concentration, as if he were listening. His hand jerked suddenly in surprise and his eyes flew to meet hers. His shocked expression caused her heart to trip, but she hid her alarm from her husband.

“My love,” she said calmly, “would you give me a few moments with Culas?”

“Of course, Naniel,” he replied, confused, “but …….”

“I am not trying to hide anything from you, I promise,” she explained. “I just need to speak with him alone. You will learn all that I learn, very soon.”

Thranduil nodded and kissed her hand before leaving the room. He paced the length of the corridor outside, his mind a torrent of worried thoughts. What could be wrong with her? How could she fall ill so suddenly, and what was the meaning of the expression on Culas’s face? He’d seen it, all right, though both the healer and his wife had sought to veil it from him. As he passed by the door to the bedchamber for the third time, he heard Naniel’s voice raise in agitation. He ran to the door, his hand on the latch, ready to fling it open, but he stopped himself. He’d told her she could have a moment with Culas, and he meant to keep his word. It grew quiet inside the room again, and the door was opened by the healer. He stepped aside and motioned to the King to enter.

Naniel was now lying on the bed, propped up by several pillows. Her eyes revealed nothing, but she patted the bed beside her, and Thranduil crossed the room quickly to join his wife, winding a protective arm around her.

“Culas has something to tell you, dearest,” she said quietly. Thranduil’s heart began to hammer and he looked to the healer in apprehension.

Culas began solemnly, “The Queen does indeed have a condition that will require extensive care. The telltale sign was unmistakable.” He paused, and Thranduil swallowed hard in dread. “Two heartbeats,” Culas added simply.

“Two heartbeats?” Thranduil was utterly confounded.

Culas smiled. “Yes, my Lord. The Queen’s heartbeat, and that of your second child.”

The King looked at the healer blankly for several seconds, before recognition lit his blue eyes. “My second child?” he breathed. He turned quickly to his wife. “Our second child?” he asked desperately, afraid to believe it.

Tears stood in Naniel’s eyes. “Yes, my love,” she said lovingly, “there is to be another heir.”

Culas moved to the door, preparing to give them their privacy. “We will need to examine you further, Lady, but you are in perfect health, and so will the hin be.”

Thranduil and Naniel thanked him profusely, and he smiled and nodded before quietly leaving the room. They turned to one another and wept with joy. After many tears and many prayers of thanks to Eru, they lay quietly in each other’s arms and talked about the news they’d just been given, and of their son’s excitement when he learned that soon he would no longer be alone.


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hin: child