Chapter 21: Sacraments

Tauriel felt awkward in her festive outfit. She could remember mere two times during her entire stay at the Elvenking's Halls where the garment came out the closet, once for a wedding of a close friend she had served with in the guard and the other time with the occasion of her closing ceremony at the Healing Halls where she had volunteered to complete a class on the art. More disquietingly, she did not know what to expect. Her life she was willing to lay down in the hands of her master, but the current prospects were entirely different than she was used to. Calming herself by acknowledging that it was to be expected that she would be quite nervous, Tauriel made her way back to the king's quarters, only to encounter Oenel and Mudor standing guard at the entranceway looking pointedly everywhere but at her. The door opened silently and they both bowed with a flourish as opposed to greeting her as they would a superior officer. Tauriel sucked the air in and blushed as there was no doubt those two at least suspected what she came for dressed like that. Further to her horror, Thranduil wasn't alone even though she had arrived at the time requested by him.

Feren stood to the side by Thranduil's chair, looking over to where the king was swiftly scribbling something onto paper on his desk. "Excuse me, muin nin, I will just quickly finish this order and I shall join you in a moment. Until then, please help yourself to something to drink. The goblets are on the table in my bedroom."

Tauriel complied in haste, getting out of sight, blushing further. That some guards would figure out what was going on would have been just about expected, but to be paraded around in front of the king's first lieutenant was a completely different deal. Of course if she would produce an heir, then everyone would obviously become aware of the relationship leading to it, but she'd never imagined it being out in the open before it even started and she wasn't sure how to feel about that mainly because the possibility never occurred to her. She was a warrior and her role in the bedroom had not been precisely defined. All she knew was that she could not be very good at being a mistress or child brooder, whatever, because she had no experience at either and she could not understand why the king would honour her with those roles, and so openly too. Because what if she failed? Engulfed in her worries, she mechanically raised one of the indicated goblets to her lips, taking a large gulp of what she expected to be soothing wine, knowing Thranduil. The redhead never felt more in need of the intoxicating liquid and she was intent on drinking a lot of it, make herself more amenable for the plan. She was already on her second gulp when she came to realise that her beverage was not alcohol at all, but a lot sweeter like honey that seemed to be there to mask another, more bitter tang that was still noticeable in the aftertaste.

"It's an aphrodisiac," Thranduil enlightened her seeing her puzzled expression as he approached, "mostly damiana, gokshura and ashwagandha." His crown or royal necklace was nowhere to be seen and yet his presence was just as assertive.

"Oh." She did learn about those when studying medicine, but it wasn't an issue she had encountered since. "Do I need it?" The question was innocent. She truly didn't know.

"Not necessarily, but drink, just in case," the monarch produced a single white flower of alfirin from the folds of his robes, "please accept this blossom as a sign of my intentions," he gave her a bow as if she was royalty and not the other way round. "May I?" He raised the flower, tilting it towards her.

Tauriel could barely speak, his behaviour and the situation was all too confusing. "Alfirin?" She mumbled. There were no more romantic flowers in the whole of Middle-earth for they were immortal and represented eternity. "And you called me muin nin in front of Feren. What why?"

"Because you deserve a pledge. You need to know that I am not taking our union lightly. We might not be able to give each other comfort in afterlife, but till then, I am here for all you need, just as you have offered yourself to your king," he stepped up to her, blew a kiss onto the flower and carefully attached the alfirin to her hair, fed through one of her plaits.

"We need to bond to some extent for the coupling to be fruitful," Tauriel interpreted.

"Well, there's that if you decide to put it that way," Thranduil rolled his eyes, "but my dear, I do think you need some more of that aphrodisiac if you do see it like that."

"How should I see it then?" The captain saw it best to comply and down the contents of the goblet.

"We will be making love," he leaned in to whisper, up close and seductive, then cupped her jaw to kiss her, in a similar manner to how he'd done in the morning, only more lingering, teasing, then he pulled back, "of course it's up to you how you'd like to spend the evening," he changed to his matter of fact voice, indicating the set table, "there's a light meal at our disposal with fruit and nuts, my tub ready with warm water and bath oils or we can simply talk and stargaze on the terrace."

"What would you like to do?" Tauriel couldn't leave behind old habits of pleasing the king.

"I'd like to pamper you," Thranduil announced roguishly, laid-back, "are you hungry?"

"Not really, too nervous I guess."

"In that case," the king took her by the hand and pulled her over closer to the table, where he picked up a single piece of honey soaked avocado with his long fingers and held the moist and slippery slice up to her lips. Tauriel opened her mouth obediently and the long, velvet finger food was slipped past her lips slowly and sensually, Thranduil finding her reaction amusing to the first bit of his pampering attempt. She was so stunned it rendered her pliant.

He then pulled her with him, into the bathroom where the fire lit made the whole room cosy and bathed in the shadows of merrily crackling flames. "No time to waste, we don't want the water getting cold," he poured a fragrant vial's contents into the large, angular tub in the corner, making the water fizz and bubble and steam invitingly. Without any more fuss, he unfastened his flowing, outer robe and let it fall onto the floor, "it might be imperial, but it's rather restraining of a wear," Thranduil commented, "I can't get to you in that," he teased.

Tauriel nodded her understanding a little surprised. Given the way he carried himself, everybody would've assumed he was most comfortable in the regal garments. For this not to be the case and him admitting to it bewildered her, but she didn't have much time to contemplate that either as he stepped up to her and kissed her again. He didn't only cover her lips with his this time however, but travelled dragging his lips to her jaw, and to the sensitive part under at her neck, then returned to her mouth to tease her lips with his tongue. Him barely touching made her ache for more and suddenly she found herself kissing back, tasting his lips, craving more. She could sense him smirking under her lips and then without any warning he grabbed the shoulder of her dress and ripped a space to reach the skin there. "I owe you a dress," he promised before nipping, sucking, biting, tugging at the exposed part hungrily.

The she-elf bit her own lips, overwhelmed by the sensation. He was careful not make it too uncomfortable and that margin between pain and pleasure made her gasp, wanting more and her hands wandered up to his silken, filmy shirt to feel his muscular body under her fingertips before she pulled them back self-consciously, not having been asked to touch. Thranduil pulled away only to grab her hands and slide one under his shirt and the other to the bulge in his breeches. Tauriel's eyes opened wide. While she had no experience, it was clear that the monster had awakened. The older elf ground himself to her, into her hand, towards her loins and moaned breathlessly. "It has been so long..." He swallowed and tried to reign himself in. He should not rush her. Straightening, he took time to shrug his boots off, distracting himself with the task.

Tauriel followed suit assuming it was what she was meant to do and found him staring at her when she was done. "You are beautiful, you are life," he established, "let me serve you."

And to her horror, the king knelt before her, falling on both knees and holding on to her thighs, looking up at her. It soon became more clear to her what he had meant when the king of Mirkwood buried his face into her loins and slid his hands up under her dress. Tauriel was not ready for that and neither was she ready to be served by her king, so she slid down to kneel beside him and initiated a kiss for the first time instead. His response was breathless and soft, lingering and teasing and then he grabbed her under her bottoms and her back with his other hand and slid her over to lie atop of a shaggy, decorative rug in the middle of the space where he rid himself of his shirt and breeches quickly and continued his kisses, down her shoulder and for the most part exposed arm, knees and up her thighs again. Scooting closer and in between her legs, he sat up, exposing her to the sight of his naked, glistening, godlike, smooth body and rubbed at her folds, through the cloth of her dress at first, then slipping his fingers under.

Tauriel was confused by the sensation, for it was wonderful and she didn't expect herself to be so flooded with need and wanting to devour him, her legs spreading wide open as if they had a mind of their own and how could she be so wet? Her hands found their way to his upper body again, exploring, rubbing, circling and there was an urge to own him, to have him close. Encouraged she was ready for the next move, Thranduil leaned down to gently and tantalizingly lick at her clit, his tongue going into the folds in a maddening manner. Tauriel could not take it anymore. "I want you inside me," she was surprised by her own audacity, but Thrnaduil didn't mind. His eyes took on a dreamy expression and he moved to place his keen member against her vagina, pressing into her slowly, gradually, checking her reaction each time.

The red-head moaned, somewhere the back of her mind additionally also appreciating the fact it was the king's and no other's penis that was inside her and her hips moved on their own accord, accommodating him, grinding against his hard rod cock. Both too keen, it was over before it really started and she felt herself full and gasping and yet still wanting more. He was of the same opinion. "The bath, melethril. Shall we try it in there?"

tbc

Glossary:
muin nin – my dear
melethril – lover