An: j.r.r. tolkien's world twisted to my wicked imagination of the elven realm before the hobbit
A Dark Night in the Woodland
A knock echoed through the desolated hall, the door creaked open in response. Tiptoeing inside, slipping off her moccasins, and crawling into his arms she entangled herself in the sweet comfort his grey eyes always managed to provide. Murmuring pointless nothings into each other's pointed ears- none of the words they will remember in the morning- the red haired elf kissed her way up his pale collarbone. She toyed with the wisps of silver hair resting at the base of his neck, staring intently at nothing, and dragged her fingers across his marbled chest. Eventually settling, she twined her hands behind his neck and looked him head on, straight into the cold nothingness. Her eyes traversed his body- observing his grim smile etched in amusement and his soft silver hair that glimmered iridescently in the moonlight.
"Beautiful," they both managed to say at the same time.
Taking back control he flipped so that she was beneath him, utter dominance in the dark elf's iron grip. His pure, silken trousers brushed against her ridden up dress, taunting her endlessly with contact. He took his hands and grasped her wrists- preventing her from even thinking of touching him. Dark eyes sparkled with mischief just imagining the blissful torture he would put her through, culminating in both of their releases.
She stared at him, wondering what he was going to do to her, if it would be similar to the last time she was trapped in his chambers, or something completely different that he had devised. Nothing happened for the next moments, but it felt like a millennia to the young elven Captain of the Guard. The rain pattered and tapped against the walls, a sound drum for her racing thoughts.
Finally he leaned down and kissed the outside of her lips softly, teasing her horribly. She arched her back, trying to touch him, to feel something other than the gap of space in between them. His silvery eyes lifted in soft laughter at her useless movements, which matched the somber attitude of the weather outside.
"Just close your eyes, Ei. Don't think, feel." Those were the last words he spoke that night, one single hint to her to enjoy what was going to occur.
Her face as red as a cherry flower in the midst of spring in Middle Earth, she quietly slipped back on her clothes. Lacing her boots, she hoped to leave the room unnoticed as he slept peacefully. She looked at the tangled sheets she was leaving behind, at his curled sleeping figure on the bed. Her mind raced with thoughts that would ultimately do her no good. It was nothing more than one night- one repeating, sinful night that had occurred for the past year.
Standing tall and firm she looked around his sparse room. No personal artifacts to decorate the walls, nothing but beautiful tapestry gifted upon the young prince for his birthday lined the walls. The auburn rug beneath her feet matched her hair, an undertone not quite noticeable in the dark woodland they were so accustomed to.
Looking longingly at his bedside table she sighed. A note was there- one she had written a few nights ago that she debated leaving. She simply couldn't- wouldn't- bear a secret affair with him any longer. It was hurting her, and him as well. They knew they would be utterly destroyed if his father found out- she might even be exiled… She shook off her grim thoughts and spun around to face the door. Her hand grasped the knob and pulled it open just as the young man wakened and opened one eye lazily at her. He said nothing, simply turned sides and faced the cold windowpane on the opposite side. The tall mistress stepped outside and shut the only door that would have provided her solace that night.
Her brown boots made of boar hide made no sound, no echoes as she floated through the hallways and to the room she shared with another being.
"Tauriel, I'm home."