2. First Parting
He rose and stood in front of her, and picked at his tunic laces where she had left off, only to discover just why it was she had growled in frustration earlier. The tie had become badly knotted where he had fixed the lacing early that evening. He glanced up at her, watching him, and grinned wryly. Then he shrugged and pulled the whole thing off over his head. He kicked off his shoes and then his leggings until he stood there in front of her for her to see. Her eyes were wide as they moved up and down his body. She slowly rose from the bed and stood in front of him. He leaned down and breathed three words in her ear
“Now touch me.”
She jerked at the words and her eyes flew to his. Her fingers reached out and touched his chest. She ran her fingers down from his shoulders and gently circled his nipples watching them react to her touch. She quickly glanced up at him, but his eyes where tightly shut and his jaw lightly clenched. She ran her hands down further, over his stomach and down on his abdomen. Every move she made caused the muscles to tighten. She was fairly sure he was enjoying the experience, but not enough to keep going just yet. Instead she circled around him, trailing fingertips from his stomach around his side to his back. When she brushed over his side, he jumped and then settled back down. She grinned at the thought of the king’s son being ticklish. It just did not seem very regal somehow. She focused her gaze on his back. Her fingers moved to his shoulders and then down, down to the quite loveliest backside she could ever remember beholding. She wondered if it was considered healthy to have such a fascination for one part of the anatomy. There were others, his chest could make her dreamy, the power in his legs was amazing, but this very perfect backside was her favorite so far. She gave it one last caress before continuing around back to the front of his body. His eyes were no longer closed, but were instead examining her with amusement.
“Find something you like? he asked.
“Oh yes, “ she grinned wickedly, and then she offered him her hands. “Now show me how you want to be touched.”
She watched him quickly swallow and then take her hands in his. He directed her hands first to his chest. “Like this.” He explained and moved her fingers in smooth circular motions, “and like this.” As he moved her fingers to lightly grasp the aroused nipple with her fingers. She watched her hands with fascination. That he could react to her simple touch. She glanced up and his eyes were once again closed. She could not say where the urge came from but this was not the night to act on reservations. So she removed one of her hands and then asked “How about this?” She replaced the hand with her mouth, first pressing a light kiss to his nipple and then mimicking the motions of her fingers with her tongue and teeth.
“O Elbereth!” she heard and then she felt his hands close on her shoulders. “That is....” he gasped, “nice.” Then he pushed her back a bit. She gazed at him, fascinated by the reaction of his body. He was aroused and the site of him was making her squirm in reaction.
“Show me more,” she commanded, when his breathing steadied and he opened his eyes. She once again offered him her hands.
He eyed her fingers and then her mouth for a moment in seeming trepidation. Then he once again guided her hands back to him. Only this time he placed her hand gently on his sex. He was already fully aroused and her touch caused him to jerk slightly. With one touch she was fascinated. He was so soft and hard at the same time. He moved his hand away and clenched them into fists as she slowly trailed her fingertips up his length and around the head. She heard his breathing change with every motion she made. She ran her fingers down to the base and around until his sac filled her hand and then slowly with just one finger ran it up his length from the underside. His breathing hitched and he let a small groan past his lips.
She stopped her exploration for a moment and waited until she had his attention again. She looked at him expectantly and offered her hands again. His eyes were dark with desire as he took her hand and wrapped it around him, and then slowly moved her hand the way he liked. She quickly took over, enjoying herself. She reacted to his passion with her own; there was a sudden ache between her legs she did not know how to assuage. She wanted something, but was unsure how to ask for it. Suddenly, he reached down and removed her hand and then crushed her body hard to him. She could feel him through her clothes and to have him touch her made her long for more. She rubbed herself against him, but froze as she heard a groan.
“Do... Not... Move...” he hissed into her ear. “I think you are trying to kill me lover. Just hold still a moment. Please.
She stayed locked in his embrace until his breathing calmed and then he loosened his hold. He took a step back from her and eyed her hands for a moment and muttered something that sounded a bit like “I would die happy,” and then announced in a cheerful voice “My turn now.” She watched him sprawl back on the bed and watch her intently.
She glanced down and slowly loosened the ties to her own clothes and watched them slip down her body. She kicked off her shoes and then raised her eyes back to his. He was no longer smiling. He appeared entranced. He had already risen from the bed and moved toward her. He was stalking her again, like a cat its prey. He circled her without touching or speaking. On the second pass he stopped behind her and pulled her body back into his, circling an arm around her waist. He brushed her hair away from her ear with his free arm and whispered “Mine” in her ear and then gently bit her shoulder. She shivered in response, both to the words of possession and the feel of his body pressed against hers.
“Now show me what you want,” he said, and offered his hands to hers without moving from behind her.
She ran her hands down his arms until their fingers met. She laced her fingers with his and he gave her a comforting squeeze and then released her. She grasped his hands and placed them on her breasts and then turned her head slightly so she could see him.
“Please, touch me like I did you,” she asked.
The next thing she knew the most exquisite sensation flowed over her. Her back arched and she leaned her head back on his shoulder. He circled and tugged and she cried out. The ache returned and she felt herself grow wet. She needed to do something with her hands so she reached back and found his hips. Her fingers quested further back when suddenly his hands stopped touching her. Through her labored breathing she heard chuckling. Then his hands found hers and moved them off his backside.
“No my lady, it is still my turn.” He pinned one of her arms against her own breasts and then offered him his free hand to her. “Keep going.”
She took his hand and tingled with anticipation. But she was unsure of just how to proceed. Then she felt his knee nudging her legs apart, and he disengaged his hand from hers and moved it down until it rested at the v of her thighs. She half turned and mock-scowled at him. “I thought you said you had not done this?”
He grinned wickedly, while he held his hand still, “I have not, but you should understand now why I was so keen on keeping the curtains shut. I was far too inquisitive for my own good as a child. I had to investigate the odd noises I heard one night, it was an educational experience.” Before she could utter a word in response to that humorous statement he moved his hand. She felt his finger move slowly into her wetness and the thought maybe she could die of wonder. The pleasure was exquisite. Then he stopped.
“Do you like that lover? He asked. “Does it please you?”
She growled in frustration. “It would please me more if you did not stop,” she said hopefully. When he did not resume his motions she added “Please?”
She heard a soft chuckle in her ear but did not comment as he had resumed his motion. She felt herself begin to move in motion with his hand and she pressed herself back against him until he groaned. She felt as though there was liquid fire in her veins. She wanted something...something. Then he stopped and she almost yelled at the loss. He suddenly spun her around and picked her up dropping her on the center of his bed. He paused only a moment while she situated herself and then she bent her knees and spread her legs and beckoned him to her.
He could feel his heart beating hard against his chest. This few moments of separation while she settled herself was almost more than he could bear, and then she held out her hand and all was right with the world. He settled between her legs nestling himself in her warmth and wetness. She moved against him until he was just where she wanted him. He grinned at her and she returned his smile as he decided to take advantage of something else this position offered. He kissed her quickly on the lips and then moved his mouth to her breast. He licked and nipped and suckled with his mouth, while his hand mimicked his motions on her other breast. She moved under him, and he heard her breathing growing fast. She began sliding herself back and forth over the very tip of him and the sensation made him burn with desire. She looked at him with entreaty in her eyes and he lifted himself up to put further space between them and then guided her hand and wrapped it around his flesh. Her touch sent a shock like lightning through his body and his fingers dug into the bed sheets on either side of her.
She guided him to her and his flesh slide into hers and he froze. The feel of her body encasing him was pushing at the bounds of his self control. He struggled to rein in his desire. He stayed still a moment before a slight whimper implored him to move. He slowly slid out. Then he felt her nails dig into his back and her legs wrapped around his legs and pull him back to her...hard. He groaned, his control flowing away like water released from a damn. He reached his hands under her arms and grasped them from the top to get leverage and then he thrust into her hard and repeatedly. She arched up against him and the exquisite friction increased with each thrust. His blood pounded in his ears as he increased his speed. She matched her movements to his and it was sweet torture. Her body began to tense around him and she screamed out his name. He was overcome, she shattered him. He released into her with a cry of his own, then collapsed down onto her. He barely had the thought to roll her over on top of him before oblivion took him.
She came back to reality sometime later feeling bruised, battered and absolutely satisfied. She grinned widely and stretched out feeling the touch of his body the whole length of hers. She gently disengaged herself from him and then rolled a little away so she could admire him a bit while he lay recovering. His hair was spread out around him and looked a bit bedraggled. The rest of his body looked delicious. She ran the tips of her fingers over his chest and then down his side. That was enough to bring him back to awareness, as he squirmed suddenly and grasped her hand trapping it against him.
“I have two things to say lover,” he began seriously as he brought her hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her palm. “First, that was beyond words and I will thank the Valar every day for your presence in my life.” He paused to let the words sink in, then continued, “The second is something a bit more immediate. Could you move please? You are lying on my hair.”
She stared at him a moment and slowly the mirth grew too much to hold. She rolled over, off his hair, and watched as he pushed it back behind his head with a muttered curse. All this she observed through muffled giggles as she had buried her mouth into a pillow to keep from laughing out loud.
He quickly braided his hair back off his face until it hung in a long braid down his back. By this time she had managed to put the pillow back down on the bed. He settled himself back into bed and patted the spot next to him. She lay down and he quickly turned on his side and pulled her back against him, efficiently trapping her hands where he could keep an eye on them.
“So, my wife, did I please you? If so, then I would like to request a boon.” He asked.
She rolled over, thwarting his plan to keep her hands in his control. Her eyes sparkled in mischief as she contemplated his request.
“You did indeed please me, my husband,” she replied, “I will grant you a boon, but one of my choosing.”
He watched in fascination as she chose what boon to give. She pushed him onto his back and then straddled his knees. She leaned forward and left butterfly kisses on his stomach and abdomen. He felt his stomach muscles tense in anticipation, but she made no move further down. Instead her kisses where having the added affect of her brushing up against him every time she moved inciting his body to respond. He reached down to do something, unsure of how to get what he wanted, when her meandering course brought him what he craved. Her lips on his organ made his blood heat and his back arched in response. She kissed him and then ran her tongue up and down the length of him, much like her finger had earlier. He reached down and tangled his fingers in her hair, urging her on. She finally took him deep in her mouth and whatever thoughts he had scattered like the wind. The things she did with her lips and tongue were an unbearable agony. His whole body had tightened in reaction. He released her hair and dug his fingers instead into the bedding. He was losing himself in a maelstrom of sensation. He felt himself coming. His back arched as the thrust himself into her mouth and he yelled out and then collapsed back down on the bed.
He was vaguely aware of her getting out of bed, but she returned before his senses even completely registered her absence. She was drinking from a glass and after she had finished she offered it to him. He was finding it difficult to convince his muscles that there was still work to be done, but he managed to sit up and accept the glass from her. He sniffed it a moment and then threw it back. He had not even realized just how thirsty he had been, but the watered wine helped. She watched him with a somewhat concerned look on her face.
“So, husband, did you like my boon?” she asked.
His eyes widened at the question. He wondered how she could be uncertain after his last display. Her serious look convinced him of her sincerity, however and he swallowed his flippant answer. He offered her his arms and pulled her into his embrace.
“Like is too mild a word, beloved. You hold my heart, and you are welcome to hold whatever other body part of mine you wish.” He answered.
She gave him a crooked grin and asked in delight, “Whatever body part?”
He groaned in mock anguish and quickly let go of her and rolled away, off the bed and across the room. “Mind you wife, I must sit a horse come the dawn, so keep your torture to my poor backside at a minimum.”
In response to his teasing she stalked him around the table making random grabs for him before the silliness of the situation overcame them. They sat down at the table, still laughing, and had a light meal. He tried once more to get her to reveal her name.
“Wife?” he began benignly.
“Yes?” she responded, eyebrow quirked at his level tone.
“Do you think I have pleased you enough for you to share your name with me,” he inquired dryly?
She seemed to ponder his words, her expression serious. Then her expression changed and her eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief. She was about to say, request, or do something completely outrageous.
“Honoring my frugal nature, I have decided to hold out for something truly spectacular, husband,” she answered him, her eyebrows arched in challenge. “I once overheard a discussion between some married she-elves. They were having a debate on the merits of various positions, and on the stamina of their husbands. Their debate meant little to me then, but now it intrigues me. We have so few hours for all the variations I heard, but perhaps you are up for the challenge. You are the son of the king after all, so much more can be expected of you.”
He stared at her as her words penetrated. He narrowed his eyes and contemplated her challenge. He remembered all the stories and gossip he had overheard in his lifetime. If her list rivaled his, it would be an exhausting night. He remembered one story in particular and felt himself stir at the thought imagining already the things he could do for her. The decision was made.
She watched him after she had made the challenge. She had meant it partially in jest, but judging from the intentness of his gaze, he seemed to have taken the challenge seriously. His eyes narrowed and then darkened with desire. He stood up quickly and cleared the table of food and crockery. He leaned his weight hard against it, testing its strength, then beckoned her over, his gaze challenging. She slowly joined him on his side of the table, watching him cautiously. He seemed almost feral, his movements controlled. He reminded her of a bow, string pulled back waiting to be released. She moved within reach and he quickly pulled her against his body, the arrow released. He pressed his mouth against her ear and said two words that she would both rue and revel in for days to come.
He grasped her by the waist and set her on the table, spreading her knees apart to stand between them. She glanced down at him and realized he was already hard and ready. He put his finger under he chin to bring her gaze back up to his.
“If we are putting my stamina to the test love, perhaps you should keep count?” he said arching his brow.
“Count of what?” she asked grinning at his words.
“You decide,” he grinned wickedly, “but perhaps it should be the number of times you beg for my touch before the dawn.”
She narrowed her eyes at the arrogance and then sighed. “I suppose that would work. It will determine how often I needed you and you were too tired to meet my needs,” she countered, her tone unconcerned.
He growled in response and spread her legs further apart. He ran his finger over her and then moved a finger inside of her. She gasped at the speed of her arousal and then closed her eyes and leaned back on her hands to give him better access. She moved with him and could feel the pressure building as he teased her with his touch. She moaned his name and he stopped suddenly. She howled at the loss of his touch and her eyes met his with a plea.
“What are you counting lover?” He asked, punctuating each word with a slight flick of his finger inside her.
“I will count...” she swallowed hard and tried to slow her breathing, to no effect. “I will...” her words cut off as he moved once more.
“What will you count,” he asked again, leaning over her as he spoke to nip lightly at her breast.
She grabbed his chin with one hand and drew his face up to her eye level. “I will count the blood spots on the floor after I run you through if you do not move!”
Before she had finished speaking he moved his hand away and drove into her. She released him and dropped her arm back to the table to brace herself. He wrapped his hands around her waist and thrust hard. Once, twice and she was done. She felt as though her bones had melted as she lay back on the table, spent.
A breath later, she felt his hands slide up her body and then under her shoulders. He pulled her upright and she realized he was still deeply imbedded in her. He held her body tightly to his and she felt his tongue glide across her lips. She opened her mouth at his invitation and kissed him deeply. His fingers played over his breasts and ran down the tops of her thighs. She wound her arms around his neck and felt her body tighten again in response to his ministrations. He groaned into her mouth. She tightened her hold on him inside her body, reveling in her power as he groaned again. He reached behind his head and pulled her hands around in between their bodies. Then he lowered her to the table with deliberate slowness and pinned her arms over her head, his eyes never leaving hers, his gaze intent.
He released her and slowly stood back up, his hands caressing the skin of her stomach and abdomen. His eyes held her still with a promise, though she ached to touch him. Then he flexed insider her and she arched up at the sudden sensation. It was like blowing on embers and having the fire come rushing back. She rubbed her legs against his trying to get him to move again. She felt his hands on her knees as he pushed them toward her chest, changing the angle of their touch. He ran his hands over her hips and then traced the length of her bent legs with his fingertips. When he reached her foot, he took first the right and then the left and kissed the arch of each foot. The flames of her desire flared at each kiss. He still did not move inside her. She rotated her hips to entice him, and he pulled back a short distance. He grabbed her hip arresting her motion and then pulled her legs up so they rested on his shoulders. He slowly withdrew from her, until she feared he was going to leave her completely.
He moved back into her, deeper than before and she gasped in surprise. He repeated the motion with exceedingly slow steady deep thrusts until she felt her whole body thrumming with passion and need.
“I want...” she panted, trying to articulate her desire. “Ai, please... I want you now, Move!” she demanded.
He increased his pace in response and sensation quickly overwhelmed her. Her hands reached for something to grab onto, but found nothing on the smooth surface. She felt him release one of his own hands from her waist to catch at hers. She grabbed hold of his hand in desperation, but he quickly detached her grasp and instead guided her hand to her own breast. Her eyes widened for a moment, then she moved her hands down her body and touched herself while he moved inside her. It was too much.
“Ai, Ai Yes,” she screamed in ecstasy rearing up off the table as the sensations overwhelmed her. She lay there spent, trying to catch her breath, when she realized he was still rock hard inside her. She looked up at him to see his hands clenching the edge of the table with his eyes closed, standing there frozen.
“You did not come with me again,” she said stating the obvious with disbelief.
He opened his eyes, at her statement, his breathing still heavy. His eyes glowed with fey determination and reached down without a word and eased himself out of her
“I did not,” he finally replied, a hard passionate edge in his voice. “But there are hours until dawn. Are you remembering to count?”
“I barely remember my name right now, but yes, I am counting.” She replied breathlessly.
He pulled her to her feet, and she wobbled as her rubbery tried to support her weight. He steadied her with a smug look and then swept her into his arms and carried her back to the bed. Then he said the one word she would hear repeatedly that night.
He looked at her and said “Again.”
They ran out of ideas before they ran out of time. As the time bleed away, they made love one last time. They lay face to face, and each move was slow and gentle. They climaxed with soft sighs, for their energy was spent and they were exhausted. When dawn neared, he called for a bath and they soaked their aching bodies. They helped wash away the sweat and smell of sex and then sat in the water, cuddled together until the water grew cold. They extricated themselves from the tub and collapsed exhausted back onto the bed. She had just gotten comfortable and felt her eyes close in sleep when the knock came on the door. She groaned inwardly at the unfairness of it as she watched her exhausted husband get out of bed.
She reluctantly followed and they dressed. She donned a dress that had been delivered earlier with their bath water. He disappeared into the adjoining and returned carrying his travel pack and weapons.
“It is time. I must go, and I do not know when I shall return,” he began, but she stopped him.
“I know, I will see you off.” She pulled his face down to hers, and gave him a chaste kiss and then released him. He gave her a gentle smile and led her from the rooms.
They made their way slowly, gingerly out the front doors down to the front gates, muscles sore and tired from the exertion. There the warriors gathered with their horses. Their arrival was noted and good wishes and congratulations were offered from those who were near them. His horse was brought to him by a young elf who disappeared back into the crowd before a word could be said.
The king rode over to where they stood and swiftly dismounted his horse. He walked over to them with a bright smile on his face.
“Daughter, you look exhausted, did you two sleep at all last night?” the king inquired merrily.
She blushed furiously and the king watched his son straighten up from his exhausted stance and preen like a cock in front of a group of hens. Those who heard the king’s question laughed at his reaction.
“You must forgive me, I was remiss in my duties as father,” the king continued when the laughter died down. “I offer you this jewel in welcome to my house.” He pulled out a stunning emerald pendant and draped it around her neck.
“Oh thank you,” she replied, fingering the necklace, “It is lovely.”
The king chuckled, “You seem to be missing one other piece of jewelry, my dear. Luckily, I managed to rouse the goldsmith from his rest last night.” The king turned his attention to his son. “You may want these, my gift to you.” Then the king tucked a pair of gold rings into his sons hand. He kissed his new daughter on the forehead and headed back to wait near his horse.
She stared at the rings in his hand. They had forgotten all about them. She looked at him and then the audience they had attracted. Everyone was watching to see what he would do. He gave her a wry grin and then shrugged. He glanced at the ground as if contemplating dropping to one knee and then just shook his head.
“Beloved,” he began in a voice pitched to carry, “Will you take this ring and wear it as a representation of my love and the vows we spoke?”
She smiled at him and nodded. He slipped the smaller ring onto her finger, then handed her the other ring. She repeated his words back to him and when he nodded, slipped the ring onto the index finger of his right hand.
Their audience cheered and clapped. Several offered personal congratulations, but then quickly returned to the departure preparations. He eyed his horse with a great degree of trepidation, then turned back to his wife.
“What was your final count this morning?” he tone smug and expression arrogant.
“One,” she replied, her answer quick and sure.
His face contorted into an incredulous mask. “One?” he sputtered.
She smiled widely at his reaction, and bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Yes, one, but you did not ask what I counted.”
His eyes narrowed, “What did you count?”
“Come home safe, and I will tell you.” Before he could say a word in reply, she leaned close and whispered in his ear.
“I will cherish the thought that you found the last few hours a spectacular event,” he said, grinning madly. “I must go, get some rest Beloved.” He kissed her one last time on the forehead and turned toward his horse. Her hand snaked out, and gave his rear a quick squeeze and he jumped.
“To remember you by,” she explained with a grin when he gave her an exasperated look. She moved back to stand at the edge of the field with those others who were staying behind.
She watched him attach his pack to the horse, his motions stiff. His horse was not cooperating. He kept dancing a few steps away, with amusement. She watched her poor husband try to catch him, which she suspected he could do on a normal day, but not in his current exhausted state. He finally stood still, arms folded over his chest and glared at the horse. She swore later the horse laughed. He reared up, neighing and then shook himself once four hooves were back on the ground. Then after drawing all attention to him, he kneeled down in front of her husband, as he had been trained, when his rider could not mount on his own.
Her husband stood there next to his kneeling horse his head shaking as the gathered crowd roared in laughter. He finally shrugged and mounted his horse. The horse stood and took two jarring steps and he winced as he automatically tightened his legs in response. Those who saw laughed again, even the king had a bright smile on his face as he watched his son’s discomfort.
So the mood of the departure was light, and that day King Oropher’s troops rode out to meet the threat of Mordor, and Thranduil, golden haired son of the king waved one last goodbye to his wife. For it would be many years before he would see her again, and when next they met, she would be Queen.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.