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Mirkwood and Beyond

Chapter 24 / ?
Authors: Mary A and Malinornë
Pairings: Mainly Thranduil/OFCs
Warnings: ADULT sexual situations and language, various stages of nudity amongst the naughty elves and naughty man and the two lucky women who know them.
Disclaimer: Written for fun, not for profit, with characters and setting borrowed from JRR Tolkien.
Chapter summary: Anborn learns about Mary's wolfy past, Thranduil learns about Mal's time away from him, and Thaladir is forced to take a hand in controlling an unseemly situation. The twins butt in at will.

~ Mary ~

Anborn fell for my 'I was raised by wolves' lie so fast that it scared me. Not only did this handsome Ithilien ranger believe me, but he proceeded to tell me of other such cases, involving human children raised by animals, dwarves, and elves, that he knew about or had heard of. And he was apparently an expert on the topic, or something very close to one, which was nearly alarming.

He was too cute while he showed off to me how knowledgeable he was for me to divert his attention, however. And I loved hearing his voice, deep and rich, and the way he pronounced certain words in the common language was different to my ears than what I was used to hearing, and very sexy.

While Anborn merrily babbled along about 'feral children', it occurred to me that I had to be more careful around a mortal man than I had to around the elves. Thranduil especially had indulged me in my tendency to exaggerate a little. I knew I had to handle this ranger gently or one false move and he might do something stupid like want to rescue me from my current captivity. At least he forgot all about Mal and her lowlier squirrel origins.

"There was one boy in particular that you remind me of," Anborn told me sagely, with his forefinger alongside his nose, as if to help him remember. He pointed it at me when he continued, "He was raised by eagles, it was claimed, although he did not seem to be harmed by that experience. I saw him when I was very young; he was in a circus that came through Ithilien before the dark times, but I have never forgotten."

"I remind you of a boy?" I pouted. His face fell and he shook his head.

"Not at all!" he exclaimed. "Forgive me, dear lady, I did not mean any disrespect by my comments, only that you seem to have adjusted well for having such difficult beginnings." He was very curious about my early life among the wolves and I had to think fast because I know next to nothing about the creatures, except that they are like large and furry dogs with longer, sharper teeth.

"I was a princess, Princess Fang," I told him. It even made me wince a little, to hear myself say that, but he did not blink. "Except," I added, "it didn't sound like that when the wolves spoke it."

"Spoke it?"

"My name, or, my title," I batted my eyelashes to distract him, it did not work.

"The wolves could speak to you?" He was dazzled by the idea. "And you understood them?"

"Well, you know, they barked, mostly, or howled, when they said things."

"Astonishing! Would you be so kind, my lady, as to demonstrate their speech for me?"

"Uh, not here, in front of all these people," I said to stall him. How on earth was I supposed to know what Princess Fang or anything else would sound like in wolf language? For all I knew, this wood-crafty ranger might have memorized the whole wolf vocabulary while living in the wilderness and would realize that I was a fraud. I so hated the idea of disappointing him.

To buy time, I asked him to escort me to my room where I could demonstrate a wolf's speech in private. Since it was his first visit, and my third, I needed to do all of the navigating. So we got lost immediately, because I was not paying attention to where we were going while I thought of how a wolf would sound if it said Princess Fang, or barked it.

Once I realized we were lost, I told Anborn that I actually wanted to go out into the gardens now that the rain had stopped and we sat in one of the lovely gazebos to talk. I left him room to sit right next to me on one of the benches, but he sat at some distance on another one, displaying his good Gondorian manners and courtesy. For a few minutes, I pretended to be more interested in our surroundings than in continuing our earlier conversation. The breeze was cool but not uncomfortably so.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" Maybe I could get him to discuss the weather instead of wolves.

The skies were clearing quickly and the stars were visible. Thin tattered shreds of clouds passed over the moon, which was not quite full but bright enough to illuminate the white flowers in Lord Elrond's gardens so that they almost glowed as if lit from within. Fireflies flashed in the hedges and over the damp lawns. They seemed to keep time with the music that floated out to us from the Great Hall of Fire. Left-over raindrops made everything sparkle.

And here I was stuck with a perfect gentleman who could not read my mind. A mixed blessing.

A couple of elves passed by where Anborn and I were sitting, their feet made only the slightest crunching sound on the graveled path beside the gazebo, while engaged in a quiet conversation in Sindarin. Neither seemed to notice us, or they were too polite to appear as if they did.

"Do you visit Imladris often?" the ranger asked, once they had moved out of sight. "You seem very comfortable here."

"I have been here a few times, didn't the twins tell you about me?" At last, a chance to change the subject from wolves.

"Only that you are visiting here from the realm of the Elvenking, Thranduil, east of the Misty Mountains, which is a place that I have been invited to visit as well."

~ Mal ~

Thranduil probably didn't last for more than ten minutes, which was unusual for him, but good for my buttocks, which were already sore from sitting on that stony surface for what felt like hours and hours. Still, I was reluctant to let go of him. I kept my legs locked around his waist and was unable to withhold a triumphant smile as he rose to the occasion again. To no avail. He backed off, uncrossing my feet with his hands, and straightened his clothes.

I remained as I was, bared from the waist with my skirt still gathered carelessly around my middle, and got the distinct impression that the king enjoyed seeing me like that. He was quite a sight himself, grinning, with mussed hair and that gaze of being freshly satiated. I pouted and tried squirming in a way I hoped would convince him that I needed more. He lifted an eyebrow and chuckled.

"Greedy, are we? Indeed a befitting trait in a concubine, but you will have to wait." I pouted a little more, but put my skirt down over my knees. It was pointless to discuss with him.

"Here?" I asked, and hoped not. I had rather exhausted the various angles in which I could admire the view from the window. He pretended to think it over, in a way that made it clear that he had made up his mind already before I asked.

"Hmm... that would certainly have its advantages. But, alas, I believe it would be too great a cruelty to our host, and my fellow councillors, if they would be forced to witness such a scene."

"Maybe they would like it." I saw the mirth in his eyes battling with the lust also present there, and wondered how many of them had been spying on me and Glorfindel earlier.

"Maybe." He muttered something that sounded a bit like 'dirty old goats', but I didn't quite catch it. "No, I'd rather have you in my rooms," he declared. He ran a hand over his hair, making it fall into place again as if by magic, and then walked back to the council chamber.

There was a calm confidence to his steps, not the frustrated strides I had witnessed as he came here. Knowing that I had that effect on him made the waiting well worth it, and I felt less selfish, too, for having wanted to get to him before Mary had the chance.

I went back to my room for a quick freshening up, and then headed to the library for directions. Some tea and something to nibble on would be nice too. I had not yet learned the way to the kitchen, and the library elves' stock of tea and biscuits appeared endless.

Erestor was still not there, they told me, misjudging my reason for visiting so soon again. But I got my snack, and was promised that somebody would take me to Thranduil's guest chamber shortly, if I would just wait a little. I had a comfortable seat to wait in, but I guessed after a while that the elves here had a peculiar sense of time. Either that, or time actually stood still here.

So, after having my cup refilled twice I put it down with a sound definitely a little too loud, thanked my hosts very politely, and told the nearest elf that I would manage on my own. She told me in a distracted sort of way that I was welcome back whenever I wanted to, and so on. Apparently, library elves cannot be trusted to help outside their immediate area of competence. But they were experts on books and tea, and that should count for something.

For a while I wandered aimlessly down the corridors, hoping to eventually come to a more populated area, or at least encounter someone who could help me. I didn't have the heart to stop the busy-looking elf who was walking fast enough to make little drops of dark liquid escape from the ink-horn he was carrying, but soon two familiar, and identical, faces came to my rescue. Grinning, they sidled up to me and turned me around.

"Dearest lady," said Elladan. "You are going the wrong way," added Elrohir.

"And how do you know that?" I asked giggling, immediately in a better mood from their antics.

"Dinner is not ready yet." And? "This way leads to the kitchen." Okay. "And the cook has more temper than is good for her," whined Elrohir. "Look!" He pointed to his right arm. I looked closely, but saw nothing in particular. A fairly regular, well-trained peredhel swords arm, if perhaps smelling a little funny. I looked quizzically at Elladan, who was usually the more sensible of the two.

"My brother had a little accident," he said. "It was an attack!" Elrohir protested, wildly gesticulating with both arms. If he had been injured in some way it at least didn't seem to affect him too much. "She hit me!" he continued. "With a fish! Right here!" He pointed to the reportedly suffering area again. So that was where the smell came from. One didn't need too much imagination to guess that the twin had well deserved what he received.

"She wouldn't have done that," said Elladan calmly, "unless you had first stolen three crayfish tails, and then came back for more." His brother huffed demonstratively. "I would never keep such violent kitchen staff!"

"The rest of us are fortunate, though. There wouldn't be much on the tables of Imladris if thieves could roam freely." Elrohir didn't reply this time, probably realizing that his brother was right, after all. He put his arm a few inches from my face in a final search for attention, but failing to evoke anything else than laughter from me, he changed tactics.

"So," he said, tucking my hand under his suddenly uninjured elbow, "where were you going? We can help you find your way."

"I'm looking for Thranduil's...."

"He is occupied," Elladan put in before I had finished. "Very occupied," added Elrohir. "In fact, it will be hours and hours before he will stick even the tip of his royal nose out of ada's study." Elladan made a small sound of dislike, obviously thinking the description was a little too much.

"I'm prepared to wait," I said. "And I was told to go to his room and wait for him there. So if you would be so kind to show me the way..."

A nod was shared between the brothers, and as they were surprisingly quiet the rest of the way, I thought they had realized and accepted that whatever they were after was not going to become available this time. No matter how much fun we had together in Mirkwood.

~ Mary ~

Anborn, it turned out, had met Legolas, who was a frequent visitor to Ithilien now that the roads were safe, and had been extended an open invitation to visit Mirkwood. They had fought together against the forces of Mordor on the Pelennor battlefield, too. After he was finished telling me how impressed he had been by the son of my king on that dark day and ever since, I was nearly ready to fall asleep and the night's breeze was beginning to turn chilly.

"What else did the twins tell you about me?"

"They said that I might enjoy the company of a mortal woman who dwells among the elves. And they told me that you were pleasant company, and on that they were correct."

For a moment, I wondered what Elladan and Elrohir were up to, perhaps another rescue attempt with reinforcements from the south now? I could feel Thranduil's presence in my mind, however, and he was not disturbed, although neither was he very interested. I assumed he was busy in the council, but I knew that he was always capable of keeping track of my whereabouts no matter what he is doing.

"What they did not tell me," Anborn continued, leaning forward now, his voice suddenly deeper with eagerness, "was anything about your unusual and interesting background. Could you favor me now, my lady, with a demonstration of wolf speech?"

"Oh dear," I sighed. "I was afraid you were going to ask me that. But, you see, it has been so many years since last I was among my four-legged family that I have quite forgotten most of it." Again, the ranger's face fell, and he sat up straighter and sighed. "Would you rather see my scars?" I offered as a substitute.

"Scars?" That got his attention, he leaned forward again.

"Yes, well, as you can probably imagine, having wolf puppies for siblings was not an easy childhood." After a pause, I added, dramatically, with just a tiny quaver in my voice as if remembering a painful experience, "You see, I was bitten and clawed every day, although I did not ever realize that it was not a normal way to be treated."

"I had not thought of that," he admitted, nodding his head. "Naturally, they would roughhouse with you as they did with each other..." he began.

"Exactly," I said as I stood, interrupting him. "But it is too dark out here for you to see anything, perhaps we could go inside?" Now that I did not have to think about barking anything, it was easy to find my way to my room. The gentlemanly ranger hesitated for a moment at my door, as if he felt uneasy about entering alone with me.

"I promise that I won't bite you," I said, as sweetly and innocently as I could manage and then added, "Although I can't promise that I won't lick you a little." I shrugged when his eyes widened at the thought. "It's one habit that I have never been able to break," I explained. "Especially when I am alone with someone I like." I leaned forward and patted his chest. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Ah, mind? No, no, why should I mind? Not at all." He followed me in without struggle, although he looked a bit dazed now. At this rate, however, it would be hours before I got him naked and I did not want to wait. I directed him to sit on the couch, if anything the elves of Imladris always make sure there is somewhere soft to sit on, and stood before him. The room was dim, with only a single lantern behind me that gave off as much light as a candle does. Perfect.

"Close your eyes," I said, for no other reason than to prevent him from seeing that I had no underclothes on. It would not be a good idea to shock him before he got comfortable. "No peeking." After I took off my dress, I folded it in half and held it in front of me for his sake, so that only my bare legs, shoulders and arms were visible.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now." When he did, I lifted my left leg, kicked the shoe off, and put my bare foot on the couch beside him, so he was forced to nearly come face to face with the inside of my thigh. I had only the hem of my dress covering my most private area. "Do you see anything?"

He made an effort, poor thing, peering intently at my leg and turning his head this way and that. And since I was mostly in shadow he probably could not have seen anything even if I did have a scar.

"Give me your hand," I said. He did, and I placed it on my lifted leg. "It might be easier for you to feel than to see in this dark room." Tentatively he touched me where I directed his fingers. "Do you feel anything? No? Try a little higher."

I removed my hand from his and let him feel his way, first upward and then back down, all the way to my ankle. "It has been many, many years since I have been touched by a man," I whispered, closing my own eyes and smiling. "A real man. A manly man. I forgot... I forgot how nice it is." And that was probably the most truthful thing I had said to Anborn yet. His hand moved slowly back up and stalled before it got anywhere interesting. "Still no luck? Would you like to try my other leg?"

"Yes, please," he said, croaking a little. I pretended not to notice the distress in his voice as I kicked off my other shoe and obliged. After his thorough exploration of my right leg, with no success, I was ready to stop playing around. Really ready.

"I have a confession to make," I said, panting a little. His hand slowed and I could feel heat coming from his fingertips now as they caressed me. "Don't stop touching, yes, keep going, just like that. You have very nice hands, Anborn." He had to clear his throat before he could speak again.

"What, ah, what do you have to confess?" Before I answered, I stopped smiling, looked directly into his open, trusting eyes, and licked my lips, slowly. His eyes followed my tongue.

"I wasn't really raised by wolves," I said. "But I really do like the way your hands feel on me." I dropped my dress to the floor. "A lot."

I forgot how hairy a mortal man's chest and legs and other various interesting places could be, too. But it was good to be reminded. And that ranger could undress nearly as fast as an elf can.

~ Mal ~

I was a fool to trust the twins. The door we finally arrived at was royal-looking enough to lead to the best guest quarters the Last Homely House could muster, but Elrohir betrayed himself at the very moment when I stepped over the threshold.

"Welcome to our wing," he said, sweeping with his arm in a wide gesture. "The best part of the house," added Elladan. "With the finest food, the best view, the nicest company..."

"And the softest beds," put in Elrohir. "Or the hardest tables, if you should prefer that!" He grinned like mad, and I had a difficult time deciding if that last remark was seriously meant.

"Please excuse my brother's boldness," Elladan said apologetically. "He was just a little carried away by your presence, and means no harm."

"Apology accepted. But I really can't accept the invitation right now. I have duties to King Thranduil, and I look forward to fulfilling them. So perhaps I can come by another time? And you could show me where his room is?"

"Naturally," replied Elladan, while Elrohir put on a very sweet pout. "A lady's wish is our law."

This time, they did take me where I wanted, and after a long walk up to the very tallest tower, I finally arrived to the king's room. The twins left me at the threshold and after thanking them I threw myself on the large bed, in need of rest and not at all sorry that I might have to wait a little before the king would join me.

I woke up to a munching sound and the delicious smell of food. The Elvenking was sitting next to me, propped up against the headboard with his long legs stretched out, boots not removed, and a plate of delicacies on his lap. He was biting pieces off a roasted chicken leg with a vengeance and wordlessly handed me one before I could even ask.

I sat beside him, close but not touching, and for the next minutes concentrated more on the food than the company. I tried feeding him a few of the infamous crayfish tails, before the danger of losing a fingertip became too imminent. But they were scrumptious and Elrohir's repeated sin in the kitchen suddenly became easier to understand.

We finished off the contents of the plate quickly, the bread and the fish, and the juicy grapes that the king plopped into my mouth. When he had put the plate aside, and we had both sipped from his wine glass, I moved closer and whispered in his ear: "I have missed you."

"If the silly smile on that insufferable balrog slayer is any indication, you entertained him well." The hint of jealousy in his voice did not bode well.

"He entertained me well, too." It was not as if I had thrown myself at the feet of the golden-haired Noldo and begged for a chance to service him. He had been a very attentive lover and made me feel like a princess for every second of it.

"And I know that it was you who sent him," I added in a quieter voice, laying my head on Thranduil's chest. "Thank you."

"Show me," he said. "Sit on my lap and show me." He patted his thighs.

I sat sideways, but he swung my legs around so that I ended up with my back against his chest and my legs over his. By turning my head just a little I could easily nuzzle his chin.

"Sit still," he said, putting one arm around my waist and resting the other hand on my thigh. "For now, just sit, and show me." He could not have been too unhappy about my squirming, though, because I think what I was sitting on had stirred, too.

"But you know already, don't you? Were you not watching as it happened? From inside my head, I mean?"

Thranduil started drumming his fingers against my thigh and I sensed his growing impatience. I had better begin, but how? Opening my thoughts to him consciously was still new to me, and not too easy. I imagined my room as it had looked then, with clothes spread about, and the bed with its covering... red? Or was it green? At least I knew that it was thick silk, or maybe velvet...

"Think about him," the king said gently. "Think about what he did with you, and how it felt."

Suddenly I saw Glorfindel before my mind's eye. At first it was only his happy face glistening with my moisture, his agile fingers trailing over my skin, and the play of light and shadow over his body as he lay on my bed. But then, as I started to recall the sensations he had brought me, to feel more than to see, I began to relive my favourite parts of it.

I vaguely registered Thranduil's hand cupping my breast, and then deftly opening my bodice, continuing to caress me there. It matched perfectly my remembrance of the other elf licking my nipple. Then intense pleasure flowed through me as one of them massaged that place between my thighs, and the other put his tongue there. The hand must be Thranduil's then, I decided as I became aware of the bulge poking my behind. I opened my eyes briefly, but sank back into my memories again as I was overtaken by the added excitement from feeling what it was like for him to move his fingers in and out of me.

Afterwards, as I lay panting on his chest, I wondered what we could possibly do for the rest of the night that would even come close to that.

"Undress me," he growled raggedly, but somehow making it sound like an imperious command. The way he said it made me smile, but I looked away, to allow him to pretend not to notice. I nodded meekly and then knelt on the floor, eyes downcast as I began to remove his boots. This was my favourite game, and he knew it.

~ Mary ~

In bed, what Anborn lacked in skill and imagination, he more than made up for with his eagerness to please me, and possibly, a desire to live up to being called a manly man. After the first heated, passionately vigorous, demonstration of his might, which left us both spent and breathless, I had to suggest other positions, besides the standard missionary one.

When I got into a crouch on my hands and knees on top of the bed and lifted my tail end, he asked, with an almost shocked tone of voice, if I had truly been raised by wolves. But he was an awfully good sport about trying anything, once, and a fast learner, too. After he was through, I had a feeling that he would try it again someday,

"That," he said afterwards, when he could talk again, "was amazing." We had more or less collapsed sideways and I disengaged myself carefully in order to turn and lie on top of his broad chest. I played with the black curls of hair that grew in a vee-shape over the firmly muscled surface.

"Haven't you ever wanted to try it that way?" Before he could answer me I had to kiss him a few times, now that I could see his mouth again, because he looked so adorable all sweaty and exhausted, and so unlike an elf. "Well?" I asked, after I finally let him come up for air. "Have you?"

"I do not think I have ever thought of it," he admitted with a touch of chagrin in his voice. "I too have a confession to make," he added as I ran my hands over his arm, with its smooth defined bulges in just the right places; the arm of a swordsman.

"Whatever could that be?" I asked. "Are you married or something? That doesn't bother me." I sat up to pull the covers over me because the night air was starting to feel too cool on my damp skin.

"No," he smiled. "A ranger does not often marry. But I have not been with very many women, so you will have to forgive me if I have disappointed you. I am sure you would be too kind to tell me."

"You haven't disappointed me at all, yet," I told him. "And the night is still young." He chuckled a little in disbelief and wiped his brow.

"Maybe for you it is young, but..." Anborn started to say, but I put my finger to his lips.

"Remember I told you that I have a habit of licking people who I like?" Anborn nodded, powerless to stop me as I slipped down under the blanket and showed him what I had meant by that. His male parts would not put the elves to shame, but compared to the average human man, he was excellently equipped. From the timber and quality of his moans, I was pretty certain this was new for him and when he rose to the occasion for the third time, he was more surprised than me. This time I made him lie on his back while I climbed on top.

"Relax," I said. "Don't move. Let me do the work for a while." It seemed that at some point I had felt the king return, interested, but then it did not feel exactly like him in my mind. Or maybe there was more than just him... perhaps Thaladir was there, or, who could it be? I could not concentrate and just accepted the extra attention as part of the overall experience and willingly merged with all the minds within me as I rode the valiant ranger into the night.

And that was possibly the last coherent moment either of us had for that night, at least as far as I can remember.

When I awoke the next morning to the screech of the peacocks' mating call, Anborn was still there, sleeping soundly. How nice. It was not usual to wake up with a warm body to snuggle up next to and I took advantage, but gently. The manly ranger deserved his rest and I could tell it was early.

I dozed off an on for a while, as I contemplated my night with Anborn and the king, and, whoever else was there, peeking in on us. But my stomach was getting surly with me, as I had not had dinner the night before, and I slipped away finally to find some breakfast.

The corridor outside my door appeared empty, but I did not have to go far before being accosted by the only other rangers I had ever been intimate with, and I was not surprised to find them hiding in wait for me.

"You did not have enough sleep," Elladan stated matter-of-factly, but he did not seem overly concerned.

"Have you seen our friend, Anborn?" Elrohir could barely contain his grin as he acted worried. "We have lost track of him..."

"After we left him with you," finished his brother.

"I can't believe you expect me, a mere mortal, to keep track of a ranger, sheesh," I told them. "I am sure if you try, you can find him yourself." As we progressed toward the kitchen Lord Celeborn passed by us along the way. His eyes were twinkling with merriment as he smiled and nodded at me, but he did not stop to chat.

"He looks happy," I said to the twins. But there had been something in the Lórien lord's glance that reminded me of the night before, for some crazy reason, and the various peeking minds who had shared my bed with me and Anborn. Could it be? I paused and turned around, only to see the silver haired elf stepping out into the garden. I was tempted to follow him.

Would he be any more forthcoming that my own king if I asked him about the night before, and his possible participation? I sighed. Probably not, and I was too hungry to care that much. I decided that I would bring some breakfast back to Anborn and teach him a few new wolfy tricks, instead.

~ Mal ~

As was his habit, Thranduil was no longer by my side when I woke up the next morning, so there was little reason to remain in bed. A little exploring in the room revealed a table behind one of the screens, where I found some fruits and bread left over from the evening meal. No doubt there would be a real breakfast served somewhere, but I decided to go for a morning swim before I went looking for more to eat.

Finding my way from the king's bedroom turned out to be a lot easier than going there had been. It was just down and down for a long time, and without the detour to the twins' wing of the house I soon ended up on the garden side of the first floor. From there I just had to follow the windows until there was a door that opened towards the terrace.

As soon as I opened the door to the bath-house, I sensed that I wasn't alone. There was nobody in the water, but when I looked left I saw a smiling Celeborn reclining comfortably in a chair. He studied his nails as if he hadn't noticed me, but then he suddenly looked up, his smile broadening. He nodded.

I nodded back, and then went to the opposite side, where the clothes hooks were. I had not prepared for an audience of a scantily clad elf-lord, but was determined to show him that I was neither shy, nor ignorant about the customs here. There would be no strip tease, however, and I stood turned towards the wall as I removed my dressing-gown and placed it on the hanger.

A deep breath, and then I took a few quick steps and jumped into the water with a splash. It felt as wonderful as the morning before. Celeborn could watch if he wanted; it suddenly didn't seem to matter. And I could look at him, too. In fact, it turned out to be a very enjoyable experience to swim while resting my eyes on the silver-haired elf in his white towel loincloth.

After that, I took my time choosing from the soaps and shampoos, opening many of them and sniffing their contents. I finally picked the one I had my eyes on since yesterday, the large bottle that was a deep pink and had a spicy, bitter-sweet smell.

"Is this a good one?" I asked my silent audience, pointing to my chosen soap. Not that I thought I'd find anything bad there, but I remembered that Glorfindel had steered me away from it and thought it better to ask. Celeborn told me that it was the one he preferred, and although I suspected he said that mostly to be nice, it must at least mean that it wasn't reserved for Lord Elrond's personal use or something like that.

I quickly lathered myself and rinsed, then swam a few more circles in the pool, until I began to feel funny. Not in a bad sort of way, but my skin tingled all over, and particularly over my chest and between my thighs. I was fairly sure that I had an allergic reaction to one of the ingredients, and tried to wash it away. That didn't help much, and I hurriedly went out of the water and began to rub myself with a towel.

Celeborn must know where I can find some cooling salve. I'd rather not disturb the master healer himself, and alerting the twins to my condition was too risky. Elladan would be helpful, but I couldn't possibly live with the teasing from Elrohir if he found out exactly how, and where, the soap had affected me. It would be quite comical, actually, if it hadn't been so embarrassing.

I put on my dressing-gown and then turned towards the Lórien elf to ask where I might find one of Elrond's assistants. The words stuck in my throat when I saw him. He was the most desirable male I've ever seen, and I suddenly knew that only he could help me out. And not by giving directions.

He lifted an eyebrow when I went towards him, and the other one, too, as I slowly opened my dressing-gown and let the garment glide off of my shoulders and down to the floor. "Help me," I told him, and became surprised at the throaty moan that was my voice. He sat up straight in his chair.

I straddled his legs and kissed him desperately. His hands on my back increased my heat, and without letting go of his mouth I tugged at the towel around his waist. "I want you, now," I said, as if that hadn't been clear already, and he promised that the feeling was mutual. I rocked my hips against his hand as he freed himself of the towel, and then he finally entered me. Not very deep, but it was pure bliss. Ah, if we could do this forever!

A persistent, throat-clearing sound interrupted my blissful bouncing. I ignored it as best I could, but eventually the silver-haired elf lord stilled my hips and lifted me off of him with a sigh.

"There is nothing wrong with her that is beyond my abilities," he said to Thaladir, but the seneschal did not look convinced. He did look attractive, though, despite the stony expression and the distinct frown.

"The lady Malinorne requires professional treatment," he replied, "and I have been instructed to escort her to Lord Elrond." I noticed that he was holding up my dressing-gown, and shaking it in a demanding way. A look at both of the elves told me that there was no hope of delaying my departure from the bath-house, so I obediently allowed Thaladir to dress me. I managed to press myself against him a couple of times before he was done.

Outside the small building the tingling between my legs worsened to a burning itch, and I was desperate for more of the cure that I had only got the first taste of when the seneschal interrupted us. He was so handsome with his stern face, and as we passed a well-placed wall of greenery I stopped abruptly.

"Come with me behind the hedge," I whispered, grinding my chest against his front. "You know what I need, and you can give it to me."

"It would be far from me to take advantage of a lady's misfortune," he protested, "and I am not prone to engage in frivolous pursuits while executing His Majesty's orders."

"But I want you," I said through ragged breathing, "and you want me too."

"My personal inclinations are irrelevant and of no concern to you." His reply came short and sharp, and I grinned triumphantly. He was not unaffected then.

"Thaladir," I whined needily, "Your Excellency, please fuck me." I heard a shocked gasp, and then a slightly louder 'smack' as his hand connected with my rear more rapidly than I would have thought possible. It felt surprisingly good, too.

"Yes," I moaned, "spank me, and then f..." The seneschal's hand clamped down over my mouth.

"My lady," he said in a somewhat strained voice, "the use of profane language by His Majesty's concubine is most unfitting, and especially in the current situation. Furthermore, your affliction is more properly treated by a healer, than by subjecting yourself to the carnal gratification of undeserving recipients."

Even in my present state I could recognize that as a 'no', and I made no further attempts to hinder the seneschal as he led me hurriedly towards the house.

To be continued...

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Chapter posted: November 16, 2005

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"Long live Thranduil, great Elf-king of Greenwood!"