Chocolate Heat
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Harlette's eyes were closed.
It was warm here.
There was a sweet smell in the air, and that smell could not have been sweeter, for it was the smell of chocolate, she was sure of it.
Harlette opened her eyes.
She was in a humongous room, which, safe for being gigantic, at first glance, had nothing special about it. Harlette's gaze found her feet, and she remained absolutely stunned when realizing the floor she stepped on was thick liquid chocolate. This sea of chocolate all around her seemed to be rising.
When Harlette looked up, Thranduil came into view. He stood farther away from her with chains wrapped round his bust, securing his arms along his body. Despite having another chain wrapped round his ankles and connected to a wall behind him, his legs, however, were granted freedom of movement, and so, he took a few steps towards her till he could no more. His expression was, for once, incredulous. 'Harlette?' he said disbelieving the sight stretched before his very eyes. He smiled at her approaching self. 'I haven't got the faintest idea of how you survived the ghoul. I must confess I doubted you, and I beg for your forgiveness. I long to hear your tale.' He bowed to her.
Harlette grinned sheepishly at him. 'Oh, yes! I had to get a sword and I battled it mercilessly...' her tone faded when Thranduil watched her amusedly, his expression clearly showing he did not believe her. Harlette puffed playfully at his face. 'Well, no. I did not battle it. And I will tell you how I survived it later. It was quite fun, I was very much inspired!'
'I am glad to hear that, Harlette,' he grinned at her, and in his eyes there was kindness, and something else she did not know, something that destabilized her. Quickly, she carried on speaking: 'You know, if it was not for─' She stopped herself. She did not wish to tell him about the Shadow, for he would undoubtedly think her bonkers. Moreover, the Shadow was not to be trusted. Thranduil tilted his head to the side, waiting for the rest of her phrase. Harlette hemmed and spoke at last: 'If it was not for my romantic ideas for my next book, I would not have been able to make it out alive.'
Thranduil emitted a slight moan of pain when the chains around his body tightened suddenly, cracking his ribs. Harlette bolted to him, her hands gripping his shoulders. 'Thranduil! What is happening? Are you alright?'
Thranduil took a deep draught of air. Despite standing tall and proud, his voice strained slightly with the pronunciation. 'If not loosened in time, these chains will crush me.'
'But, you have magical skills, or whatever,' said Harlette panicky. 'You can break them!'
Thranduil sputtered a laugh, and he gave her an amused look despite the turmoil of not being able to breathe correctly. 'They are magical and impossible to break, even by the strongest of wizards. I can resist for a while, but they will eventually break me.'
Harlette slapped her hands on the metal, and her anger began to rise.
'Do not lose your temper. Remember Far-Flunga's spell,' Thranduil warned when sensing her hackles growing.
'I'm not losing my temper!' Harlette snapped. 'Sorry,' she managed when noticing her tone had been harsh. Thranduil nodded.
'How can I free you?' Harlette questioned rapidly, trying to pull at the metal surrounding him but to no avail. Panic rose in her heart; she had come this far, she was not going to fail now.
'There is a hint. Following the hint will break the chains,' said Thranduil.
'Where is that bloody hint?!'
'Behind you, written on the wall.'
Harlette turned around, and her eyes widened at the bold letters in red smeared across the white wall: TOGETHER, LET YOURSELVES GO COMPLETELY. 'What is that supposed to mean?' she inquired bitterly. 'What's with this land and riddles? Why don't they all just go buy themselves a life?'
Even though she willed her mood to stay gentle, anger, like burning log fire began to eat at her patience. 'What should we do, Thranduil?' she said, and then raised her arms up in the air. 'Let go!' she exclaimed, and her arms flailed at her sides in an attempt at relaxation. However, her stomach flipped at the realization that the chocolate had risen up to her calves. 'Oh no!' she yelled. 'We are going to drown as well! They are so stupid! I bloody hate them all!'
'Harlette, please, try to keep calm, do you not understand that this is what the spell wants? It wants you to lose your temper,' Thranduil forced out and emitted a gush of pain when the chains tightened further. He bent slightly. Harlette jerked when hearing his bones crack; a common man would have died then and there.
'I'm alright, do not worry about me. Let us just uncover a way to loosen these chains,' Thranduil dictated.
Harlette stepped away from him, and then she fired him a glare. 'Stop telling me what to do. You are not my mother! I mu─' her foot slipped on the chocolate and she fell gracelessly on her bottom. She emitted a gush of outrage and she tried to scramble back on her feet, but kept on slipping helplessly on the ground till she was brown and glistening all over. Harlette, for no reason, began to grumble angrily and senselessly.
Ignoring Harlette's manifestation of ire as she still tried to get back up, Thranduil read again and again the words on the wall: Together, let yourselves go completely.
There was no way Harlette would let go, for she was getting angrier by the minute due to that spell which affected humans. Silly humans, Thranduil thought. He needed to uncover a way for the both of them to let go. Suddenly, it dawned upon him.
Harlette, at last had risen to her feet, the liquefied chocolate now up to her knees.
Thranduil watched her intently as she muttered curses to herself, smoothing her dress frantically in an attempt to rid it of the thick coat of chocolate.
Thranduil reared till he had his back against the wall. He summoned her in a very peremptory manner: 'Harlette, come here.'
Harlette's eyes were wide with rage. Thranduil smiled to himself: his tone had had the desired effect for Harlette responded: 'I will not let you order me about! I came to rescue your sorry ass!'
Thranduil grinned wickedly. 'Harlette, you are absolutely useless,' he let out bluntly. Thranduil emitted a gush of pain when the chains suddenly tightened much further.
Harlette's eyes became dark. 'How dare you insult me!' she said, taking a step towards him, but still, she was too far. Thranduil needed to act fast. 'You heard me, you silly toddler. I am sure Melian -oh, dear Melian- would have uncovered a solution by now.'
At the mention of that bloody she-elf, Harlette flew off the handle and she shot towards him like a bullet. She reached him, slapped the wall and she yelled at him, telling him he was a big buffoon, a big chained up buffoon.
Thranduil looked down at her and he smiled faintly: 'I am truly sorry for what I am about to do.' And Thranduil did the unexpected: he smashed her against the wall with his body.
Harlette tried to break free, but it was impossible, she could not move. She was powerless as Thranduil's face plunged for her mouth.
Harlette's scream was muffled and her eyes went wide.
When she had stopped squirming, Thranduil redrew his face from hers, looking into her terrified eyes. He smiled at her, a smile that made her heart quaver and melt and her cheeks hot.
Again, his lips came to graze hers, but this time, gently, softly, and this mere touch was electrifying, sending waves of excitement through her veins, and she actually trembled against him. Harlette's chest heaved dementedly when a sudden tingling sensation around her nipples scattered swiftly everywhere beneath her skin. Lost in his scent of ever green forest, her previous anger melted away like snow in spring time.
The Elven king realized, with profound horror, his deep appreciation of the feel of her lips that were like the petals of the softest of roses.
The chains round Thranduil loosened a little.
'Thranduil...what...what are you doing?' Harlette asked feebly, her eyes closing.
Thranduil's cheek came to rest against her own as he whispered in her ear: 'Let go, Harlette.' Like a spell, the rich sound of his deep, murmuring voice lulled her into a state of quiet trance and abandon. His breath upon her neck sent chills coursing down her spine to taunt the area so intimate between her thighs. Harlette stiffened at this new sensation and she felt utterly vulnerable. 'I feel strange, Thranduil...I feel...' she trailed off, utterly dazed, her body limp and throbbing with yearn; this feeling was dangerously growing within her, like a ripening rose.
'Let go, Harlette,' Thranduil whispered and nibbled gently at her ear. She gasped in surprise at the unexpected pleasure which tormented her will to remain impassive. 'Don't be shy,' he chuckled, and the tip of his tongue teased her lobe, and Harlette let out a sound of profound satisfaction she could no longer repress. 'That's it,' he said.
The chains round Thranduil's body loosened further.
Thranduil nibbled her lower lip till his tongue ran along it, demanding entrance. Harlette's mouth parted and their tongues met, sliding against one another with growing boldness. Harlette had been kissed once, yet, that kiss which had been passionate was but a mere peck in comparison to Thranduil's; it was strong yet gentle; it was magical and utterly sexual, and it made her feel desired beyond compare; it made her feel wholly woman. Warmth radiated from his skin like light from the sun, and any self-control that might have been left in her body evaporated and she called his name, moaning it in complete abandon. Suddenly, she felt damp there, between her thighs. His pulse quickened at the scent of raw desire emanating from her every pore, and he wanted to take her right here, right now.
The chains round Thranduil's body abruptly fell loose at his feet. He was free. The spell was broken.
Thranduil withdrew his mouth from hers. He studied Harlette who stood there, at his mercy; her eyes were closed, her hair disheveled, her lips were soar and parted, and her cheeks were rosy, blushing like a wild rose. Her dress, drowned in chocolate, clung to every contour of her body, and her erect nipples were clearly discernible through the fabric. She was beautiful and she was utterly sensual.
Just as her eyes opened to be confronted with the reality of things, his lips muffled her own once again, and this kiss was more violent and demanding. His body covered hers, and it was hard and it was hot. Harlette rubbed herself against him, smearing liquified chocolate all over his clothes, and with her mouth meshing with his, her fingers drowned in his hair as she whimpered from pleasure.
His hands slid down her arched back to her bottom, pulling her hips to his till she was gingerly hoisted up to straddle his waist.
Harlette's head was spinning, and all she wanted was to be his.
Clapping thundered from behind them.
Thranduil and Harlette froze. Their kiss slowly broke as their eyes met. Thranduil's expression was tranquil and simply indescribable, actually, it was cold. Harlette's countenance was a horrified one and it grew even more so when she looked straight in front of her: one of the white walls imprisoning them had disappeared, and thus gave view to a large room filled with merry giants clad in all colors, mostly blues and pinks: the throne room. The King and Queen of Far-Flunga had risen from their seats and were clapping vigorously. They had been watching this whole time, and by the look of things they had enjoyed the show.
Goldie and Bernard were also present, and from the lines drawn on their faces, it was clear to see that they were struck by profound relief and undeniable shock.
Harlette gasped and she wriggled vehemently till she managed to push herself away from the elf's embrace. Thranduil heeded not Harlette's manifestation of shame and he addressed the cheering giants: 'The test has been passed. I desire to speak with you, King and Queen of Far-Flunga.'
Harlette felt naked as much as she felt embarrassed. She had moaned his name in his ear, she had abandoned herself in his arms, she had showed him she desired him beyond compare, and all he could do was ignore her confusion, and consider his duty fulfilled. Had he kissed her just for survival? Yes, naturally. Yet, had he enjoyed kissing her? Did he have any kind of esteem for her person at all? Harlette recalled hearing the clang of chains being broken and fall at his feet, and even so, when Thranduil could have stopped kissing her, he had continued doing so. Harlette could not help it, she clutched at his arm. Thranduil spared her a glance. 'What happened?' she asked, her voice wavering, her cheeks garnet, her heart trembling with curiosity and a need to, somehow, cry. Bernard watched the disconcerted Harlette, pity in her wide blue eyes. The giants in the room, especially the ladies, watched the altercation with vivid interest.
'We kissed,' Thranduil deadpanned with a coldness and casualness that could have crushed an elephant.
'Ye-es w-we d-did bu-ut i-i-it...' her stammering faded in confusion and discomfiture.
Thranduil raised a brow at her. 'yes, we kissed,' he repeated casually. 'I am sorry about what I put you through, but it was the only way to break the spell.'
Harlette nodded vaguely, her mouth trembling with a need to weep, but she did not. Clearly, he did not see her as being more than a trifle.
'How did you k-now tha-that wa-as the only so-solustion?' she stuttered, crimson cheeked.
Thranduil sputtered a brief laugh at her, 'I did not. But it seemed rather logical. The spell was about anger and hate. To break it, one must do the opposite, and the opposite was to mend what was breaking; a kiss seemed the only solution.' Sliding a casual hand below her chin, his thumb ran briefly on her cheek, wiping away some chocolate. 'You should consider a bath, Harlette.'
Thranduil left her side and went to talk the king and queen.