Mary Goes to Mirkwood

Mary Goes to Mirkwood

Chapter Eight/?

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 own creation.

Warning: NC17, some naughty grape eating, LOTS of nudity.

Pairing: King Thranduil/OFCs


Summary: It's the morning after the night before. Mary seeks answers, Mal receives gifts, both have lunch.

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

~ Mary ~

When I awoke, Thranduil was gone and Mal was lying beside me. I could tell by her breathing she was sound asleep. I wished she were not so I could talk to her. The more awake I got, the less peaceful I felt and the more confused I became.

What had happened to me last night with the king? What did it mean to be bound to him, forever? Huh? Forever? That idea alone made me sit straight up. What was I getting myself into here? What had I agreed to? Moreover, what had he meant by forever? Was he talking about my limited mortal forever or his rtalrtal type of forever?

Mal stirred in her sleep, turning from her back to her side, and I remembered something else the king had said, about my approving of her and how it was important to him. Was I merely the Chief Concubine Approver? How many more concubines were going to be brought to me for approval?

I poked Mal with my foot on her leg. She slept away. I guessed that only the king could awaken her from his sleep spell. Like 'Sleeping Beauty'. I had one more reason to envy her; at least she knew what she was. His Concubine. What had he called me? A bridge?

Then, I imagined us presented at some royal court in Middle Earth, such as Gondor or Rohan, and hearing the herald cry, 'Presenting His Majesty, The King of Mirkwood, His Most Royal Highness, Thranduil Oropherion, and his First Concubine, the lovely and talented Malinorne, and, his bridge, Mary.'

Again, I poked at Mal and she slept on undisturbed. Well, how was a bridge supposed to act? I had bound myself to the king, body, and soul. I lay back down and pulled the covers over my head as I thought about that for a moment. Body. And soul. Was it too late to run? Where would I go if I did run?

I had to talk to someone, anyone, except Thranduil, who seemed only capable of answering a question with another question when he was not talking in riddles. He was also too crafty at changing the subject, any subject, when he thought he had supplied me with enough information to draw my own conclusions.

After careful consideration, and another fruitless poke at Mal, I thought of Legolas, the friendly, obliging prince, and I sat back up. Maybe he could help me figure out what I was and what I was supposed to do, now. Goodness, a startling idea came into my mind; did this mean I was Legolas's stepmother? That was just crazy. I poked Mal one more time, still asleep. I got out of bed on the hunt for answers.

In the adjacent dressing room, I put on a new undershift from the wardrobe, pulled a gown from its hanger, slipped it over my head and fought with the fastenings for a while. Finally, I had to surrender, once again leaving my back partially unhooked. I searched for something to cover myself with, like a shawl or a short jacket or something. After looking through the drawers at the bottom, I gave up in frustration. I closed the wardrobe and jumped with a start when I saw Thranduil standing there; having been hidden behind the door.

"You were not going to be wandering about my palace with your dress undone in this fashion, were you?" He turned me around abruptly and fastened me up. "Apparently your presence alone has caused quite an upheaval in my halls; to proceed through them half-dressed will only cause further disturbance." He walked to the other side of the room and sat on a long bench attached to the wall. "Lift your skirt."

"Why?" I asked, suspicious because he was clearly not in a playful mood at that moment. He seemed to be accusing me of some crime or blaming me for my presence in his halls, as if I had just barged in uninvited and started raising a ruckus. Now he thought I would just lift my skirts for him.

"I will not repeat myself, just do as I say." I could tell both by the look in his eye, (that particular sea was stormier than I had ever seen it,) and by the tone of his voice, that this peek under my gown was not for his personal pleasure. I reminded myself that I had pledged my allegiance to him the night before or something like that, of my own free will. Still, my heart pounded harder, as I lifted the velvety fabric up to my hips. The king gestured, ‘higher’ and I pulled it up to my waist. He shook his head.

"It was just as I suspected.” He pronounced. “You are not wearinur uur underclothes, again."

"I have my shift on." I said in my defense. The king just sat, his face set in granite, or, marble. More marble than granite. "Oh, you mean no underpants?"

"I have had some made for you, why are you not wearing them?" I had no clue he had ever cared, before this minute.

"Well, they look so...dorky." I had held a pair up to me the first day I was there and rejected them on sight. They were more like silky shorts than the usual bikini style I preferred, when I had to wear them, which, I felt, I did not have to under a floor-length gown.

"Put them on, now." His voice, beneath the calm tone, was in full-command mode and I dropped the gown back into place, opened the wardrobe, and hunted for the offensive underwear before I consciously made the decision, one way or the other, if I should obey him or stick up for myself. I caught myself, however, when I pulled out the ivory colored silky drawers and contemplated them.

"Why is it so important, all of a sudden," I asked, "what I have on under my dress?" The king sighed. He crossed his arms over his chest in his classic no-nonsense-from-this-point-on posture.

"Do you want me to have Miriel and Ithilwen hold you while I put them on you?"

"No!" He had me really worried, now, so I put them on quickly. They looked and felt quite nice, after all. The satiny fabric was like a gentle whisper against my skin. The king's face softened a bit as he regarded them. He gestured for me to lower my skirt.

"Now, where are your shoes and hose?"

"Hose? You mean stockings? I have to wear stockings, too?" I wondered if the king knew how hot it could get under one of those gowns, with all the layers I had on now.

"Put. Them. On." Well, he obviously did not care one way or the other "Y "Yes, sir!" I snapped back at him and returned to the wardrobe. I knew exactly where the stockings were but I took my time looking for them and withdrew them slowly as I considered my options. I could think of no good reason not to wear them, if it made Thranduil happy, but he seemed so irritated, and somewhat distracted, instead of lustful or appreciative of the effort, that I felt as if he were just bullying me because he could.

The stockings were sheer, delicate, and looked thigh-length and I had no clue how they were supposed to stay on my legs. There were no garter belts. I picked up the slippers I had been given and enjoyed wearing. They were dainty, made of black cloth with a soft sole and cunningly embroidered with scarlet and silver thread in a pattern of rosebuds, with glittery stems and leaves. They were dancing slippers and I loved them the moment I had first put them on, was it only three days ago? I remembered how nice they felt on my feet as the king and I danced through his chambers.

"Come over here." I froze at his words. He had said that to me once before, in that same tone of voice, the first night we met. "You will need to sit to put those on," he said, as if in explanation. But, when I turned and saw those eyes flicker with his tell-tale danger signal I took a deep breath. I did not think it would be prudent to be within arms reach of Thranduil at that very moment. But I did not really want to defy him outright and give him any more excuses to be angry with me. I had promised to obey him, after all.

"Oh, no, no, that's okay," I answered as if I just could not wait even that one more moment of time to comply by walking all the way across the room for no really good reason. "I don't need to sit down, I have very good balance, watch this," I stood steadily on one leg as I lifted the other and, daintily, as I imagined a Chief Concubine Approver would do it, I gathered a stocking and pulled it over my pointed toes and up my leg. It seemed to cling to me with a caress and I was amazed at how well it stayed put, once I had it all the way up on my thighs.

"See? I'd like to see you do that." I announced, proud of myself, before adding, "Well, actually, you probably can do that, huh?" The dangerous flicker was extinguished, replaced with something that looked more like...amusement. Reluctant amusement. My heart was still hammering, however, as I pulled the other stocking on, slipped the shoes over them and brushed my skirt down. I bolted out of the dressing room door, pulling it shut behind me. I had almost made it all the way through the bedchamber door, and out into the corridor, when he caught me by one hand.

"Did I give you permission to leave?" he asked. In the corridor, just outside the door, stood Miriel and Ithilwen. As soon as they caught sight of their king, they gracefully executed their kneeling bows, as usual, and rose again after Thranduil spoke to them. Miriel stayed still, smiling with her usual sweet expression, while Ithilwen swept past me carrying a soft, paper-wrapped bundle in her graceful arms.

The king drew me back into the bedchamber, sat me in the chair before the fireplace, and said, so softly that I knew he was serious, "Do you want me to tie you to this chair, again?"

"Not right at this very minute," I replied just as seriously. The king turned and spoke to the elf-maiden, Ithilwen, standing patiently just inside the bedchamber doorway, still holding the large, curiosity-provoking package. She went over to the bed, where Mal still slept, and laid the bundle down upon it and, after dropping into another low, kneeling bow, she left us alone.

Thranduil went over to the bed and sat next to his concubine. I turned away as I listened to him speak to her softly and then heard her, just as softly, respond. Now I was eager to leave. I could not understand them. For that, I was glad. Then I realized I would probably have to learn Elvish, now that I was a bridge. The king returned.

"It would please me very much,” he said, obviously not pleased at all, "to not have to command you to obey me in front of my subjects. Do you forget so soon your agreement?"

"I certainly didn't agree to be talked to like you did to me in there." I kept my voice low, as I waved my hand towards the dressing room. I did not want Mal to hear me. "And getting the evil eye? When I haven't done anything wrong except get out of bed and try to get dressed? How is that fair?" I could not imagine behavior that is more unreasonable. "If you had told me you were going to start acting like that again, just to see me jump? I would have said no."

"There is a lot to learn, for both of us, it seems," he said, his voice suddenly less imperious. "But, in this palace, in my household, a certain standard of behavior will be required in front of my subjects if any order is to be maintained at all." Just as I opened my mouth to protest the unfairness of being expected to know how to behave, he said, "You will begin your instructions after lunch, Tha Thaladir, in my study."

"What kind of instructions?" I had never seen his study but it suddenly sounded sinister. My heart pounded a little harder as I pictured my wrists shackled to a rack, in a dungeon-like room, with the seneschal, wearing a hood, standing next to it with a whip in his hand. I felt ill. The king took my hand and drew me back up to my feet.

"You will be instructed on the proper protocol, and deportment, for moving about in this royal house, or, so I have been advised. It should prove interesting whatever the outcome." He smiled, amused by some inner thought, then said, "My seneschal seems to have been thoroughly traumatized by recent events and he insists on this course of action, without further delay."

I had a sudden image of standing at a chalkboard, parsing complicated sentences in Elvish, while Thaladir stood next to me with one of those pointer sticks that teachers use in the classroom, ready to rap my knuckles if I got a noun or a verb out of place.

"That old grouch?" I blurted out. These instructions sounded horrible. The king lifted his lordly chin and cocked his head, as he turned an unkind eye towards me. I added, quickly, "I meant to say, it sounds like fun! I can't wait! Good old Thaladir!"

I still could not understand why it mattered so much if I wore stockings and underwear but I had the sudden realizn thn that it was probably not the king's idea to smother me in these layers of clothing. It must have been Thaladir’s idea. Was he going to make me raise my skirts and inspect me, too, during our instructions? I imagined laying my foot on his handsome face, just as he stooped to see what I had on under there, and giving a hard shove. That actually might be fun. I stood.

"Well, I guess I will be going now," I said as I hurried past the king, but not fast enough. The hand caught me, once more, just as I was half-way out of the door.

Word for word, except with a little more exasperation in his voice, the king asked, again, "Did I give you permission to leave?" I heard Mal stirring about on the bed across the room. I took a gamble, turned, and clasped his hand in both of mine.

"Haven't I hogged you to myself long enough?" I asked in a whisper. He cocked his head slightly and narrowed his eyes at me. Undeterred by his obvious suspicion, Itinutinued, "I think Mal deserves a little time alone with you after coming all this way to be your concubine and having to sleep outside in a tree her first night here, poor thing."

He allowed me to slip my hand out of his grasp as I spoke but he still did not look convinced. "Come on, is that really so hard to believe?" I asked. "The twins had to share me and I never let them get grouchy about it. Now it's my turn, give me a chance to prove I can do it, at least." I dropped my eyes and pleaded with him with my mind, 'Please don't order me out of your room. Please let me leave with some dignity.'

Miriel was still standing in the corridor, waiting. The king told me that she was going to guide me around some of the inner rooms in the palace that I had not seen during my first tour of Mirkwood. Before we could leave, however, he came back out of the door and grabbed me to him in one of his sudden attacks; Miriel discreetly turned her back, and kissed me so passionately it astounded me. His way of saying thank you.

After he returned to his concubine, I felt good enough to ask Miriel to show me that kneeling, bowing type of move she did whenever the king came into her view.

"What is that called, anyway?" I asked, as she dropped like a ballet dancer into the oril-lil-like curtsey that brought her head nearly to the floor.

"It is called a "reverence," my lady." I tried to imitate her but it was difficult because I could not see her legs.

"Lift your gown up a little," I asked. "So I can see what's going on under there." We soon both had the skirts of our dresses lifted to our hips, as Miriel demonstrated the tricky half-kneeling position of a "reverence," when Thaladir came striding through on his way to perform some important task.

He stopped abruptly, mid-stride, and closed his eyes tightly as if, by doing so, he could erase the memory of the horrible sight he had just been forced to witness. Before he could open them again, I grabbed Miriel by the arm and pulled her up.

"Why don't you show me around the palace a little bit, Miriel," I said as gaily as possible as I continued to pull her along and out into the hallways of the palace, "like the king asked you to do, remember?"


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

~ Mal ~

"Bain aur, melethril nín." [Good morning, my concubine]

I heard the king's voice clearly through my sleep, and answered him before I opened my eyes to look up into his beautiful face. He was gone in an instant, and I heard a low conversation and the sound of the door opening, and, when I turned my head to look, I saw Mary leaving the room. Thranduil followed her out the door and I sighed. I had been so happy to hear his voice speaking gently to wake me up, but now he was already after Mary again.

I got up and noticed that the concubine dress I had worn the day before was now lying on the stone bench to the left of the bed. On the bed itself there was a bundle, wrapped in greyish-brown paper, but I thought it wise not to touch it without permission, even if it made me very curious. Could it be something for me, a morning gift from the king to acknowledge our union, to say that I was now his concubine for real? But that wasn't very likely, was it? He would have stayed then, instead of leaving with Mary.

There was no sign of my underwear, and I decided to try to mention this to one of the elf-maids as soon as I got a chance. I was not looking forward to the prospect of walking around in a royal palace in a short dress without underpants, not even if it would embarrass the king's seneschal, should he catch a glimpse of me.

The dress looked as if it was new and had apparently been washed, as it bore no trace of my adventure in the beech tree. Morosely I put it on and wondered why I bothered, as the king didn't seem too interested in looking at me anyway. Had he really been serious with his offer the previous night?

I had just started to poke around among the bedclothes, thinking to make the bed, and at least do something useful while I waited for something to happen, when I felt, rather than heard, the Elvenking's presence in the room again.

"Take off your clothes." He said it calmly and I could not make up his purpose for this, as his voice was neither lustful nor demanding. I was too happy, and surprised, that he was back, to even think about saying anything.

Silently I took off the dress that was so far the only garment I had worn in Mirkwood and stood naked before Thranduil. The king looked at me with satisfaction and then bent to open the parcel on the bed. I could not see clearly what was in there, but he took out a small pouch, from which he emptied something that sparkled in the sunlight that came through the light shafts in the ceiling.

He held it out as he stepped closer to me and I saw that it was a necklace, made from gold and emeralds that matched my earrings perfectly, and there was also a tiny diamond glistening like a hidden star here and there. I wondered if perhaps some of these gems were the emeralds of Girion of Dale that Brand had given to the Elvenking as a sign of his gratefulness after the Battle of Five Armies.

Thranduil laid the collar around my neck, fastened it and said. "You will wear this for me, always."

I desperately wanted a mirror, because I had never worn anything this beautiful before, but the glitter in the king's eyes told me more than enough.

Then he handed me something soft, which proved to be underpants, shorts of pure and soft silk, instead of my usual practical cotton ones. I put them on and the king turned me around to admire the result, and then started to feel with his hands all over the soft fabric, and all over the parts of me that were inside the silky things. I enjoyed it, but then, as one of the king's hands stopped on my behind, and the other stroked back and forth between my legs, I began to enjoy it too much and asked him to stop.

"Why? You don't want me to stop."

"No. I mean, yes... because I will suffer more if you stop later than if you do it now." Despite the necklace I did not dare to trust him that he was doing this for the pleasure of both of us, and would not leave me at the most delicate stage.

The king pressed his hand a little tighter against my most sensitive spot, as if determined to make me moan to prove his point about my wanting him to continue. But he did remove his hands from me.

He turned around and took up another thing, an undershift that he slipped over my head and then it proved necessary to him to check the fit of this garment as well, and his mouth descended on a nipple, wetting it, and I felt that the fabric was so thin it did not steal much from the sensation.

Finally, Thranduil went over to the bed again and retrieved a gown, a green one, velvety like soft moss, and in a shade that perfectly matched the emerald jewellery, and, what mattered more to me, the king's robe.

He turned me around and fastened the intricate hooks and eyes and lacings that made the dress hug the upper part of my body. He did it fast, much too fast and I felt a pang at the thought of all the dresses he must have unfastened in his days to reach this level of aptness with his hands. He didn't fumble, didn't hesitate even once, and why should he? I imagined a long row of perfect elf-maids in dresses of all colours, and the king walking past, just snapping his fingers and the drs drs dropped to the floor. This thought was too ridiculous to even make me feel jealous, and I almost giggled before Thranduil pulled me back to reality in an instant.

He trailed a finger down my spine, all the way from the nape of my neck to the final vertebra. I shivered, waiting. His lips brushed against the nape of my neck and I didn't dare to move, suddenly afraid to scare him away. I felt his lips against my skin again, and light kisses all over my neck and shoulders, and then, an arm around my waist, holding me close.

I turned my head, and Thranduil leant forward over my shoulder and our lips met in a kiss, tentatively at first, but soon I felt his exacting tongue demand entrance and I surrendered willingly, opening my mouth to his exploration. The arm around my waist held me, and I clasped my hands around it, unable to keep my balance when I was pressed tight against the king's body, and his evident need.

The king lifted his free hand to my cheek, caressed it and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and then reached around me, first gliding over the part of my chest that were not covered by the fabric, then travelling a little lower, cupping one breast, then the other, teasing a nipple, making me breathless.

While leaning back against his shoulder, I clutched the arm around my waist even tighter as I felt the king's other hand on my thigh, stroking up and down, closer and closer to my centre and finally touching me there. I cried out and thrashed against him, surprised by the intensity of the reaction he drew from me with one single fingertip, and then he suddenly stopped.

I reached behind me, pressing one arm between our bodies and felt the king back away, just the quarter of an inch that was necessary to allow me to touch him. I held the palm of my hand still, feeling the king's hardness beneath the leather of his breeches, waiting for a reaction that didn't come, until I cupped my hand around it. Then, I heard a muffled sound, a low rumble coming from the king, and as I pressed my fingers tighter together and moved my hand up and down that bulge I was rewarded with more growls.

I took delight in the effect this simple action had on the mighty Elvenking and even more when he seemed determined to crush my hand between our bodies when I removed it. "Come," he whispered hoarsely, letting go of my waist only to take my wrist instead and lead me over to the big chair at the fireplace.

He put both my hands on the back of the chair, placed a kiss on my neck and then let his hands glide down my sides, all the way to my feet, where he took hold of the hem of my dress and lifted it, together with the undershift, and then draped the wide skirts over my shoulders, making the fabric rest there like a shawl.

Then I felt his hands on my backside and again I revelled in the feeling of the thin silk against my skin and eagerly bent forward slightly, opening my legs to his touch. "Not yet," he said huskily and pushed my thighs shut again, so that he could easily remove the silky underwear.

One hand returned to my bottom, grabbing for a second, before it found its way between my legs, parting them, gliding over slickened lips, then being replaced by something...yes...

I moaned as I felt the king's most royal member penetrate me, and again, as he withdrew slowly, and then once more when he, just as slowly, entered me again. He established a slow, maddening rhythm that didn't allow me to get used to it, but each deep thrust was just as wonderfully perceptible as the one before.

And when I thought that it couldn't be any better, that I couldn't take anymore, that I was on the edge of climax, the king reached around me and let his fingers descend on my little nub, pressing it just hard enough to take me screaming over the edge. And, as my inner muscles tightened in climax, Thranduil finally thrust into me with pent-up ferocity and found his own release.

We remained standing like that for a while, both panting heavily, and the king leaning his head against my shoulder, and then he pulled back, lifted the skirts gently from my shoulders and released them. He said that the dress was not too crumpled, but it was obviously still necessary to straighten out some wrinkles, as his hands moved over my hips and thighs several times, before he seemed to be satisfied with the result.

He picked up my panties from the floor and was going to hand them to me, but paused, feeling them between his fingers. A grin split his beautiful face. "They are wet," he said.

"That is hardly my fault."

"Perhaps not... but, in any case, I will not risk having you catch a cold from wearing them. You will have to go without, for now." He thought again. "It will not be unpleasant to have you sitting next to me at the table, without underwear. The thought is very appealing, indeed."

I stuck my tongue out at him. Now I finally felt safe enough in the company of the king to be a little playful. He smiled at me, with glittering eyes that made me feel that my decision the night before had been the right one.

"Behave yourself;" said the king and kissed me quickly before he continued, "now, let us have lunch."

He offered me his elbow and I took it, after putting on a pair of soft leather slippers that were the last thing to come from the wondrous bundle, and we walked like that to the dining hall. There were many elves there and they all turned their heads to look at us when we entered the room.

I felt like a queen, and a somewhat naughty queen, aware of my lack of panties every time the soft fabric of my undershift brushed against my bottom, which happened, in fact, every time I moved.


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

~ Mary ~


Lunch was subdued, at first. There were only a dozen or so members of the royal household in attendance and they all seemed silently fixated on Mal in her glorious green dress, with her new necklace, that matched her earrings, which matched her eyes, as she entered the room on Thranduil's arm.

Most fascinating, and fascinated, of all, was Thaladir. He looked straight ahead as he sat next to her, as if he was afraid to look at her. Yet, each time she turned away from him, to speak to the king, or to someone else at the table, his eyes would slide sideways to her and he would stare until she turned back.

Legolas had patted the chair next to him when we had entered and, after the king nodded his approval to me, I gratefully sat next to his son. During my tour of the inner rooms of the palace with Miriel I had never once met up with him.

"Save me, Legolas," I whispered to him as Thranduil proudly introduced Mal to the rest of the elves, "I think I got engaged or allieged to your father, last night, or something like that, and now I have to have instructions with Thaladir about how to behave in the royal palace."

"Do not worry," replied Legolas, with a merry twinkle in his eyes. “His bark is worse than his bite."

"He barks?" I looked over at the staid, reserved seneschal with a new appreciation, "Ooh, I would like to hear that, Thaladir barking."

"Legolas," asked the king, "you have met my guest, Mal?" Legolas stood and took Mal's properly extended hand from across the table and pressed his lips against it. I forced myself to keep a pleasant expression on my face. It occurred to me that her luscious green gown must have been in that mysterious package Ithilwen carried into the bedchamber earlier. And the king must have helped her get dressed all by himself.

"Malinorne," Legolas said to her, with a polite bow of his head, as she smiled sweetly back at him, and then, to Thranduil, "Yes, Ada, I have had the pleasure of introduction to your lovely guest." Then Mal said something to Legolas in Elvish, and, whatever it was, it must have been good, because Thaladir almost smiled.

I felt suddenly invisible. I ate lunch quietly, watching Thaladir and Thranduil watch Mal. I did my best not to further traumatize any more elves and only spoke if I was spoken to, which was hardly ever, because now everyone was fascinated with Mal's ability to speak their language and they all had questions for her to answer as they grinned over her speech. The king looked as proud as a peacock.

Then I heard Mal laugh, a low throaty chuckle, and, suddenly, the whole rest of the night before came rushing back into my mind, what we had done with each other in the royal bed for the king's pleasure, and I could feel my face grow hot. I fought the urge to get up and run from the room and, instead, I turned to Legolas and smiled right into his eyes. His face brightened and he whispered to me, conspiratorially, "Did Ada tell you we will be having special guests at dinner tonight?"

"Your father never tells me anything, he just asks more questions." Legolas had just lifted his cup to his lips and he spit his wine out at my response. Everyone at the table was silent for a moment as I busily attacked my meal and pretended not to notice.

"You, too?" he finally replied after wiping his face, and the tablecloth, with his napkin, "I know what you mean, everything is a test with him, nothing ever comes easily. How are you doing?"

His concern was sweet, and refreshing, and I murmured that I was doing fine, fine enough, so far. He explained that a contingent of merchants from Esgaroth would be visiting for a few days as the yearly negotiations over crop prices, produce orders, and wine contracts, would be worked out with them, the king, and the king's advisers.

His father would be cross for days afterward, predicted Legolas, as he always felt that he had somehow been cheated in any bargaining situation no matter how well his books looked after payments were tendered.

"If Thaladir has any concerns at all," he concluded, "it would be in keeping my father, and his guests, focused on business, and not pleasure, during the bargaining sessions. I think he views you as a potential distraction. You do have a charming way of making yourself noticed when you so choose." I almost laughed aloud at his assessment of me. I could have stripped naked at the table at that moment and all eyes would have still been on Mal, or, at least, that is how I felt.

"Do you think you can come and rescue me from him today, anyway?" I whispered as the young prince grinned at my scheming, "We are supposed to be in your father's study, can you come and find me and tell him that you want to take me out for a walk, or something? Do you outrank him?"

"Yes," Legolas said with a chuckle, "I outrank him and I will rescue you, rest assured. It is a beautiful day for a walk."


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

~ Mal ~


I think I have never received that much attention in my whole life, as during that lunch. The dining hall was silent at first, but then, as I entered on the king's arm, the elves at the table began to whisper among themselves, smiling at me. The seneschal was the only exception, oh, and Mary, of course.

She was surprisingly quiet and didn't seem at all happy. Was she uncomfortable with seeing me after what had passed between us in the king's bedchamber? Or was she just envious now that she wasn't the main attraction of the Mirkwood halls? I almost felt a little sorry for her, now that the king had shown me that he wanted me at his side.

Thaladir stood behind my chair, ready to assist me to get seated, which he did, somehow managing not to look at me at all. Not that it mattered much, his grumpy face was not what I wanted to look at for long, but it was a little disturbing all the same. I didn't think I had done that much to offend the king's closest elf. I was a bit surprised when he sat down on my right hand side and not that happy with this arrangement, but, what mattered was that the king, whom I had to my left, constantly turned to look at me appreciatively, and his eyes shone every time I smiled back at him.

The king introduced me to Legolas, not knowing that we had met before, at the airport. The prince, always a true gentleman, kissed my hand and told his father that we were acquainted, and I couldn't help asking him discreetly about the business he had at that time.

"Harthon, i 'lî maer iuthannen?"[I hope the honey was put to good use?]

Legolas continued to show his good manners by just smiling politely, but he winked at me and I understood that someone had been made very happy that day.

The king was a wonderful partner at table. He was beaming and at times I had a feeling of being a talking pet, but it was not at all unpleasant, as all the elves were very nice and mostly asked polite questions about how I liked the halls of Mirkwood and oooohed and aaaahed at my answers. Strangely enough, no one enquired about the world I had come from.

At one point, I was a little too eager when I reached out my hand after some grapes, and I dropped one, which disappeared under the tablecloth between Thaladir and myself. I know I should have forgotten about it, I really do, but somehow it didn't feel right to leave it there for the kind elves to slip on, so I tentatively moved my right foot to locate the stray grape and deposit it safely under my own chair. The floor in front of me was empty, but I felt something to the immediate right, and I put my foot down gently on it, only to discover that it was not a grape at all. It was too large. It was a foot. It was the seneschal's foot and he did not look impressed.

I was saved by a chestnut-haired palace elf in a matte grey tunic who, once again, asked my opinion about Mirkwood. I hadn't seen that much of their realm yet, so I had to keep to general pleasantries, such as "Luithannen na glaur-en-glad lín"[I am enchanted by the splendour of your forest] and "I rîn-i-thaim vraind hin cuiatha vi gûr nín an-uir" [The memory of these lofty halls will live in my heart forever], but this seemed to be exactly what the elves wanted to hear. Even the seneschal looked slightly less solemn after a while and I saw again that he was very handsome when he wasn't wearing what I suspected he saw as his "official" facial expression.

When the meal was almost over, the king put a last grape into my mouth, and I couldn't resist turning towards the seneschal, with the glistening grape still between my lips. With my eyes locked at his, I slowly closed my lips around the morsel, chewed it, swallowed and then licked my lips. Then I cast down my eyes modestly and turned to the king again. The next time I looked at the seneschal, he was more rigid that ever, and the wrinkle between his brows was deep, but his cheeks were rosy.

"You seem to take an interest in my seneschal," whispered the king as he rose to indicate that the meal was over. I took his elbow again, and as we walked out of the room, he continued: "It pleases me to see that, as you will meet again shortly. Your instructions on proper courtly manners will begin this afternoon." He turned his head towards me, and smirked at the sight of my shocked expression. Then he took my hand reassuringly, but chuckled to himself all the way out of the dining hall.

t b c

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