Chapter Eight
The trip to Gondor didn't go as Ayla had expected. Long story short; it was the last time she went to a human dominated city.
Years passed and the fame of the Lady Healer grew quiet as sightings of her wandering the roads between kingdoms of men became fewer and soon she became a legend. Her true name long forgotten and simply remembered as the Mother of Mercy. She became a deity to mothers who would pray to her while looking after their children when sick, praying for her to turn her healing hand to their child and take away all ailments. Surgeons in armies prayed for her wisdom to touch them while they tried to save lives. Apothecaries would claim to sell the tonics blessed by Mercy, and merchants would sell pendants and trinkets with claims that it once belonged to the Great Mother.
Although mankind had long since forgotten her true name and face, she was not at all gone. Ayla had merely grown weary of mankind, her unnaturally long life and the unexplainable ability to come back from the dead separated her from them, because she wasn't them. Not anymore. Ayla simply moved between elves and dwarves, since they accepted her immortality with few questions, each race believing she was either blessed by gods long since gone or was the last of those gods. Whichever they believed made no difference to Ayla as her search for a way back to her world had ended long ago when she fell in love with a certain Elvenking.
And there was relative peace between the dwarves and elves.
It was only through the relationships she had made between the two races that she became the final voice of reason during troubling times of war and disputes. An ambassador to the elves and dwarves and only for a short time to the humans whose king showed his gratitude by attempting to rape her and then charged her for witchcraft and then burning her at the stake. Since then she figured it was best to simply stick with non-humans.
Ayla spent much of her time in the Woodland Realm, raising Legolas with Thranduil into a fine young man. Although she still doted on him like he were small. She supposed that's how mother will always feel about their children, no matter how old they get they will always be those little be those little scamps. And so Legolas will always be the adorable little boy who followed her around like a puppy.
Thranduil kept his word, staying by her side even through troubling times. The love he gave always warm and welcoming. Ayla couldn't be happier than she was right now.
When Thror, King Under the Mountain, had called for her audience, he showed her the Arkenstone and boasted to her of it solidifying his claim to the throne. As a doctor, Ayla could already see the beginning of a mental illness taking hold of the elderly king and she had expressed her concern to his son, Thrain, warning him that it was only going to get worse. Thrain brushed off her warning, denying his father's slow descent into madness while Thorin, the king's grandson, heeded her warning.
"How have your travels been?" asked Dagna, wife of Prince Thrain and mother to Thorin, as she and Ayla sat comfortably on a stone bench that was situated to look out at the impressive city in the mountain.
"No more exciting than crossing the streets here in Erebor." Ayla said, smiling at her dear friend who reminded her so much of her friend Valka, Thror's grandmother. "I haven't seen much of your son, has he finally found a young lady to fawn over?"
Dagna laughed behind her hand, the skin around her eyes crinkling from her laughter and her round rosy cheeks dimpling. The soft curls of her red hair swaying. "Oh yes, but she is no dwarf maiden I'm afraid."
"A human?" Ayla asked, getting a nod from her friend. "Is she from Dale?"
"He's been spending long hours with the forges, and I can only guess that he is making his proposal gift."
"Oooh, it must really be serious then. She's a lucky woman."
Dagna's eyes sparkled as she put a hand adorned with the finest rings upon Ayla's knee and leaned forward. "I believe he is making it for you." She laughed again at the stunned look on Ayla's face as she leaned back against the backrest of the bench.
"For me? But why?" Ayla asked.
"He's always been fond of you, Ayla, and his affections for you have only grown every time you visit."
"But I was the one who delivered him when you gave birth to him. I even was there when his father was born! And I'm in a committed relationship with Thranduil." She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest and also hooking one knee over the other. "You're his mother, you should be discouraging him."
"And why would I do such a thing? Love is love, Ayla. As much as I wish he were pining for another dwarf woman, he has chosen to pine for you. At least the woman he's infatuated with is someone I like."
Ayla scoffed and clicked her tongue, getting another giggle from the dwarf woman. "I guess I'll have to let him down easy if it's true."
"My dear friend, if you married my Thorin then I can rest easy knowing that he chose a dependable woman. Plus, think of the scandal! My Thorin, stealing you away from the Elvenking! Everyone from here to the Iron Hills will gossip and call you a witch!"
"Oh, ha ha! You're a wicked woman deep down."
Dagna laughed again and Ayla shook her head.
xxxxx
"Ayla, is this accurate?" Kwenthrith asked, holding up one of her journals that she used for cataloging medical curiosities. They were currently walking along the stone pathway, crossing the deep chasm near the Great Hall. Ayla took the journal that was handed to her, her eyes scanning over the beautiful calligraphy of Kwenthrith's writing. Accurate sketches of the skeletal spine from all sides was on one page.
"You're such a talented artist; I can barely draw stick figures." Ayla said.
"Nothing is amiss?"
"No, nothing. All thirty-three vertebrae are present. Twenty-four presacral vertebrae, the sacrum and then the coccyx. Seven, twelve, five, five, and four. All of them are accounted for." Ayla said, "Are you planning on drawing out the central nervous system next?"
"The what?" Kwenthrith asked. Ayla smiled at the elf but before she could explain they were stopped in their path. Thorin stood before them, looking oddly nervous as he looked between the two of them.
He cleared his throat. "Lady Ayla, may I have a moment of your time please?" he asked, and then quickly adding, "Alone?"
Ayla handed the journal back to Kwenthrith who then took her leave, gracefully heading back the way they came. Thorin shifted on his feet and cleared his throat again. The sound of Dagna's laughter rung in her ears as she waited for Thorin to start. Ayla knew Thorin since he first took his breath, and every time she came to visit he grew taller and older (and handsomer). When he stood before her, he came to be at eye level with her sternum. He was a good looking man, there was no denying that. His dark hair and roguish features were right up her alley but clearly her taste in men have changed.
Once upon a time, in a world far, far away, there lived a wild woman who had low self-esteem… that was definitely more than a lifetime ago for Ayla.
"I, um…have been thinking as of late…" he began, obviously trying his best. Ayla didn't want to embarrass or hurt his pride and waited patiently for him to get on with it. "I had it all planned out in my head…this has turned out to be harder than I imagined. I…well I…" he reached into his pocket and stepped closer to her as he held up his hand to her, presenting a beautiful silver chain with charms of different shapes; leaves, stars, hearts, keys, a crescent moon, all linked to the chain. "I made this…for you."
"For me?" Ayla asked, not taking the bracelet but instead looking past his gift to his face, his blue eyes looking up at her.
"Yes, it's…it's a pro-proposal gift."
"Proposal…as in marriage." it wasn't a question.
He quickly looked away and closed his hand into a fist as it dropped to his side. "I've always had feelings for you. At first I only knew you as my mother's friend, and you had always been so kind and generous towards me and my people. I had regarded you with great respect, but that respect turned into love. And I know I'm being foolish, mother tells me I'm too impulsive, that I don't think things through…but I have given this a lot of thought and I'm taking a risk by laying my heart out to you."
Ayla smiled down at him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Thorin…you've become a fine young man, and I'm flattered that you feel so strongly for me. If our circumstances were different then I wouldn't hesitate to accept your proposal, but you know I can't. I'm sorry, Thorin, but thank you for thinking of me."
"I want you to have it anyways as a token of my affection." he said, taking her right hand and slipping the chain around it to rest at her wrist. "It's made of mithril. Whenever you look at it, think of me." He kissed the back of her knuckles before releasing her and hurriedly walking away.
She looked down at her wrist, the beautiful chain glimmering there with its charms. He wanted her to think of him whenever she looked at it, and she was sure he wanted her to think of him fondly but all she thought of was the hurt and embarrassment he obviously felt. Wonderful. Regardless, though, it was still a beautiful gift and she was a woman who enjoyed shiny trinkets now and then (not that Thranduil had ever given her any jewelry, not even a fucking engagement ring or her own damn crown of twigs and berries! Wait…were they engaged? Or are they already considered married? Elven laws and traditions still elude her to this day.).
Is this considered cheating, then?
xxxxx
A kiss on the cheek and a strong, warm embrace from Legolas (now a fine young man), Ayla was welcomed back into the Woodland Realm. And like always, she would enter the halls of the kingdom, walk along the familiar path towards the King's throne where he would be sitting, like always, in his arrogant pose. The air intensifying with every step that brought her closer to him, boldly holding his stare. Once, she was intimidated by such a piercing stare that held so much animosity and disdain towards her, and then the meaning behind those eyes slowly changed over the years.
Irritation. Tolerance. Amusement. Challenging. Respect. Friendship. Lust. Love. Adoration.
The list goes on.
To be honest, even several hundred years later, Ayla was still affected by his piercing stare, but instead of anxiety it was lust. Pure lust. Love played a part but the way that man looked at her brought out a carnal need in her. She considered herself lucky to even have his affections as they currently were. Once upon a time they could hardly stand each other (alcohol sure played a significant part in their early relationship). He was one of the Sindar, of whom he once arrogantly told her as being superior to all other elves, and Ayla being human, was obviously at the bottom of the hierarchy. Not like that made a difference in the bedroom (or on his throne that one time).
"Sometimes I wonder if you ever move from your throne whenever I leave." Ayla said sarcastically as she stopped in the center of the platform.
"Well, you will never know if you continue to come and go as you please." he replied smoothly as he uncrossed his legs and stood up from his throne in a fluid motion, and descended the steps to the platform to stand before Ayla. "At the very least you appear unharmed." he caressed the side of her face with the backs of his knuckles, curving down to hook under her chin and tilt her head up so that he may kiss her lips in welcome. Ayla accepted his kiss, returning it in kind, reserving the heat he sparked in her for later. "Have the dwarves treated you well?"
"You know they do. Unlike you, they're very delightful hosts. Fun even." Ayla replied, her fingers playing on the lines of his regal robes. "Thorin has grown into a fine young man, and it was good to see Dagna again."
"If they are so pleasant to be around then perhaps you should go back to them."
"Hmm, was that a hint of jealousy I heard?" a sly smile playing on her lips.
Silence.
Ayla stifled a giggle, "You know I can never stay away for too long, your son is very reckless. What if he falls into needle thorns again? Or worse—gets a girlfriend that you don't approve of?"
"You're teasing me, I can tell." Thranduil said dryly though she could see a hint of a smile on his delicious lips. "Legolas has proven himself capable so there is no need to worry."
"He also seems to have grown fond of Tauriel."
"My General knows her place."
"If you say so."
"I do say so."
Ayla rolled her eyes at him. Centuries together and he still remained obtuse to certain things, especially when his son was involved. With a last kiss Ayla departed to their living quarters to unpack and unwind from her travels. A hot bath was waiting for her like usual, and after bathing Ayla would then sit out on the veranda, listening to the forest and breathing in its fragrant perfume. The same earthy scent that lingered on Thranduil. She smiled to herself, thinking about her life, of all the struggles and heartbreak she endured in her youth; then she reflected on her life in Middle Earth, with Thranduil. Her treatment now was a far cry from back then. Accepted by all of the elven and dwarven kingdoms as a friend and liaison, while she had been driven out by humans.
Such irony.
She picked up the long outer dress to put on over her gauzy chemise, clasping the three buttons in the front below her breasts, making a V-line from the collar and an A-line from the waist down. It always amazed her how the elves could make such delicate looking materials only for it to be so strong and durable—and not to mention light and comfortable. She lifted her right wrist, pulling back the sleeve to see the gift Thorin had specially forged for her by his own hands. A chain bracelet made of mithril with an assortment of dangling charms of the same ore of various shapes. The bracelet wasn't a perfect fit around her wrist, as it hung loosely and risked slipping off if she wasn't careful. It was a beautiful gift to receive, especially one made of such a rare metal, but its history now will be a sad memory of a young Prince's broken heart.
She had heard that male dwarves would specially make jewelry for a specific woman in mind for a proposal of marriage. Never in a million years would she have believed to be proposed to by a prince (not to mention sleeping with an elven king), let alone a prince she helped deliver into the world. She wondered how Thranduil would react if she told him about Thorin's proposal. Would he be jealous or nonchalant about it?
Pulling the sleeve back down to cover the beautiful gift, Ayla leaned forward on the railing, staring out at the trees. She liked how the setting sun cast shadows on the branches. Her finger toying the charms on her bracelet as she watched the shadows dancing in the trees. It wasn't Netflix but it definitely captured her attention.
"Why is it that I can always find you in that very spot at this time of day?"
She turned her head to look over her shoulder at him, smiling softly at him before turning to gaze back out at her favorite pastime. "I like the way the trees look as the sun goes down." she replied, unable to resist the urge and turned her head again to see him still staring so intently at her as he slowly walked up to her, stopping just close enough for her to feel his body heat radiating off of him.
"It does capture the waning light, casting the illusion of the trees moving." he said, finally closing the gap and pressing his chest into her back, wrapping his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. She pressed back against him, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.
"Nothing stays the same forever." Ayla said, "Seeing my friends again in Erebor, it got me thinking about the last time I had visited the Iron Hills or Moria even. It's been so long I'm sure my friends there are old and grey."
"It is as you say," he said softly, pressing his lips to the top of her head and planting a kiss there. "What is life without change? Ayla…" the sound of her name rolling off his tongue sent a hot shiver down her body as he pulled back and turned her around to face him. "Tell me what troubles you. What is it that makes you act stranger than usual?"
Stranger than usual…that made her laugh softly, as she placed her hands on his chest. "In Erebor…"
She watched him take hold of her right hand and pushed back the sleeve where the bracelet hung on her wrist. "Is this a gift from them? The dwarves?"
"Yes, from Thorin…he made it for me." She felt her heart picking up speed in her chest.
"It is a lovely gift of which I will allow for you to keep…but that dwarf cannot have you." Ayla looked up at him, seeing something in his cool grey eyes. Was that…jealousy? Was he jealous? Why did that make her so happy? Does she want him to be jealous? Fuck, she felt like a hormonal high schooler craving for a bit of teenage drama. His hand cupped her cheek while the other wrapped around to the small of her back and pulling her closer to him until she was pressing right up against his firm body. "You are the one treasure the dwarves cannot have."
He lowered his head down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. She felt joy and heat spread from her chest to the rest of her body, their mouths melded together in perfect harmony. She let out a giggle and pulled back from their kiss. He was jealous. That couldn't make her any happier.
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me to leave." she said, finding his jealousy to be quite the turn on for her. "I love you, Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm. All of me belongs to only you."
His beautiful face that had once been a mask of no emotion was now expressing so much to her that it made her bones melt. His touch was gentle and warm against her cheek, her eyes falling to his lips…those painfully perfect lips. Lips that she had tasted before had her running her tongue over and bite the supple flesh between her teeth. Her eyes returned back to his, falling into the spell of their clear depths as she felt his other hand on her other cheek, holding her face up to him. She placed her hands gently on his wrists, unable to break eye contact. She didn't push him away or pull him closer; she just simply allowed her eyes to feast on his beauty.
The pads of his thumbs stroked her cheeks, the sensation leaving a trail of searing desire, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. It suddenly dawned on her that the space that still remained between them was too large a gap that needed to be closed immediately, but she couldn't move. Her body ached and wanted so badly for him to relieve that aching.
As if hearing her need he lowered his head down, pulling her face upwards as his lips descended upon hers. Soft, warm, and oh so perfect as their kiss started off slow and gentle, testing the waters of possibility. When they slowly parted and looked into each other's eyes again she felt breathless and weightless. Reaching up, Ayla pulled Thranduil's head down, pressing her lips to his again, passionate and hot. He released her face to press a heavy palm into the middle of her back, pulling her body closer to him while the other cradled the back of her head to hold her in place.
The kiss was everything and more, his touch lighting a fire within her as her heart raced inside her chest. The longer their lips stayed together, the more heated the kiss became and the bolder their touches got. Ayla then suddenly felt like their clothes were too much of a barrier, preventing her from being closer to him. She slid her hands over the silky fabric of his tunic, feeling the firm, taut muscles of his stomach and chest. She heard him groan softly into her mouth, his hands pressing harder against her body and she felt a very pleasant hardening pressing below her navel.
She couldn't wait to have him inside her.
He pushed her back with his body until her rear hit the railing of the veranda and then was lifted up onto it like she weighed nothing. His hands pulled up the skirt of her dress and pushed her legs apart with his thighs as he nestled himself in the cradle of her legs. She sucked in air through her teeth, the feeling of his bulge pressed into her sent liquid fire into the pit of her belly, making her ache even more for him. His face close to hers, allowing her to breathe in his woodsy scent while his hot hands trailed up heavily on her thighs, moving under her dress to hook his fingers over her smalls, ripping the flimsy fabric like paper. She gasped at his action, her need for more of his touch growing stronger.
Her lips found his again, opening her mouth to him as their tongues explored each other. She dragged her nails down his front and then tugging on the waistband of his pants, her fingers undoing the ties that secured his pants to his hips. She sucked in a sharp gasp when she felt a finger nimbly slide past her nectared lips between her legs. She let out a moan, unconsciously opening her legs wider to his plundering fingers, momentarily forgetting what her own hands had been doing.
He added another finger past her lips, and then a third, already her inner muscle quivering and clenching from his touch. His long, clever fingers stroked her in slow, torturous movements, dragging out a whimper from her as she dropped her forehead into his chest. Her eyes squeezed shut and she bit her bottom lip.
"Ayla, look at me." came his sultry voice, his other hand tilting her face up under her chin. She did as she was told, opening her eyes and looking at him. Her face was flushed and her eyes begging him for more. Clearly whatever her expression was pleased the spoiled elf King as his fingers began to move faster, deeper, resulting in another moan from her, bringing her closer to the edge with every stroke.
Her hands fisted the front of his silk tunic as she threw her head back, an unrecognizable sound escaping her throat as her body convulsed from a very long and overdue orgasm. Thranduil had moved his free hand to her back, keeping her from falling back while he watched her, enthralled with the face she made at the height of ecstasy from his very touch. Her inner muscles contracting and squeezing his fingers tightly as she rode out her release. He pulled out his fingers, slick with her juice as he moved his hands to grip her thighs and picked her up. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his hips as he carried her inside the room towards the bed. Ayla had undone the clasps of her overdress and quickly discarding it before pushing off Thranduil's coat from his shoulders of which he assisted with. He kissed her red, swollen lips as he laid her down, pushing her body further up towards the center of the bed.
Ayla looked up at him, running her fingers through his silky platinum hair, her nails gently scraping along his scalp. She relished the feel of his weight on top of her, her thighs hugging his sharp hips. He pulled away from her, sitting up on his knees to take off his shirt and tossed the light material aside. Ayla admired the beautiful work of art he was, her eyes tracing the perfect contours of his chest and abdomen, his broad shoulders balanced out by the graceful narrowing of his torso to the sharp triangle of his hips; and just below that was the straining bulge beneath his breeches. His arms lined with the perfect curves of muscle, thick lines of blue veins running up the inner part of his forearms and up his perfect biceps.
So strong, so beautiful, so very touchable, and he was hers. She watched him come back down to her, his lips descending back to hers while his hands roamed up and down her sides. With his shirt now off, Ayla was able to indulge her sense of touch as she traced her fingers over every line of muscle within reach. She moaned into the kiss, his touch keeping the fire inside her burning hot and the aching between her legs returning as his bulge rubbed up against her. Suddenly their remaining clothes were simply offensive as they were still preventing her from touching every inch of him with her body.
She reached down between them and yanked at his waistband again, sliding her hand in and grasping his hard manhood. Hard, hot, smooth, and pleasantly thick and long. She heard him gasp and then groan, his hips pressing into her hand.
"I must have you," he growled, the huskiness in his voice sending a thrill down her spine. Taking her hands and locking them over her head with one hand he pushed his pants down further on his hips with the other and guided himself to her core and slowly pushed in. Ayla's back arched upward, her stomach pressing up into his as he stretched her open as a throaty moan escaped from her. The slight pain was delicious as he buried himself completely in her.
Finally joined.
Thranduil closed his eyes, lowering his head down to touch his forehead to hers, lost in the sensation of their joining. She was hot, tight, and soft all at once. It always took him by surprise whenever they had sex, her body always receiving him and making it feel like their first time every time. The feeling of her soft thighs around his hips, her hard nipples teasing through the thin fabric of her chemise, grazing along his chest from the gentle rise and fall of every breath she took. The sound of every sigh, moan and mewling from her were like beautiful music to his ears and he wanted to hear more as he opened his eyes and looked into her brown ones, darkened by lust and desire as they stared back up at him.
He released her hand and immediately he felt her fingers in his hair, her nails lightly scraping over his scalp was soothing and arousing at the same time. He pressed another kiss to her already swollen lips, devouring her mouth with greed as he slid a hand down over her throat and to one of her breasts, squeezing the soft mound of flesh and then teasing the nipple with a hard pinch, eliciting another musical moan from her and her hips bucking up into his in response. He moved his hand down her side and stopped at her hip, sliding his hand underneath her to grasp one of her cheeks and pulled her hips up, earning him another moan from her.
He pried himself away from her addicting lips as he slowly pulled out with only the head still in her before sliding back in, repeating the movement, slowly increasing the pace. Her back arched and her head rolled back, exposing her throat to him that he graciously accepted, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. His lust for her burned brightly as he trailed his mouth up her throat, along the line of her jaw and back to her lips and delving his tongue into her mouth, craving her taste as their tongues twisted and explored. His hips gyrated against hers, thrusting deeper, harder, faster. The intensity of their pleasure rising.
The pressure building higher.
Ready to release.
His grip on her hip was firm and tighter as his body moved on its own, his mind clouded by the primal need as his movements became faster, hungrier. He barely registered the sharp sting running down his back as Ayla dragged her nails along his hot skin before sliding back up to grasp at his shoulders. Her moaning turning into cries of pleasure, her body writhing underneath him, her hips meeting his in rhythm.
She cried out his name as she came, sending the King over the edge as his body strained and released himself inside her. His hips still jutting as the last of his seed spilled into her before finally every muscle in his body relaxed, letting his complete weight rest atop of Ayla's smaller frame as he grew soft inside her. He rested his face in the crook of her neck, both of them catching their breaths. Ayla's arms wrapped around his shoulders, one hand lazily stroking the back of his head.
They spoke no words as none needed to be said and laid in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of their incredible lovemaking. Ayla wanted nothing more than for time to stop right then and there, her heart so full and her body sated by the very man who was resting atop of her. It was almost too perfect that it frightened her. Could this truly be real? Could such a beautiful, powerful man truly love her so unconditionally? When she reflected back to when she told him about her past and her tragedies; and to their own loss after the orcs had kidnapped her, he stayed by her side. He didn't cast her out or took pity on her. He continued to treat her the same. He never looked at her with pity.
Come on, Ayla, you've been with this man for centuries now. You two are practically married. Of course he loves you, and you love him.
She felt him shift, lifting his upper half up, his beautiful face hovering over hers. His normally porcelain skin was blemished with the tint of red, still flushed from their lovemaking. A gentle, warm smile was on his perfectly curved lips, his usually light, icy grey eyes were several shades darker to a near stormy grey and his pupils still dilated. She smiled back up at him, knowing for certain that she looked a wreck compared to him, but at that very moment she could care less because he made her feel like the only woman in the world. He made her feel whole again. He took away all of her self-doubt and made her forget her painful past. He made her so happy.
Ayla stroked his cheek, his skin still hot under her touch and she watched him close his beautiful eyes and released a contented sigh before opening them again. She lifted her head up to press her bruised lips to his, immediately gratified with her kiss being returned. Resting her head back against the soft mattress to look at him some more, trying to wrap her brain around the reality that this gorgeous being was with her.
"I love you," she said, stroking his cheek again.
"And I you, mui mel."
They remained together in heated passion, what remained of their clothes had been long since thrown aside. Their naked skin sliding against each other, their hands exploring every inch, every curve and dip. They alternated between fast and hard to slow and gentle, relearning what made the other moan and sigh with satisfaction until their spent bodies could no longer go on. Both were equally sated but could not get enough of each other's touch.
Ayla slept in the comfort of Thranduil's embrace, his strong arms around her and their legs tangled together. Her face rested in the crook of his neck, breathing in his woodsy scent of cedar and spice. When she finally awoke the sun had been up for hours but the time of day was the least of her concern as she blinked open her eyes to a vision of Thranduil. He was lying on his side, his head propped up languidly against his knuckles, his grey eyes watching her while his other hand gently traced lines over every inch of her skin that he could reach. He watched her with a tenderness that she had always pined for and now had, and it filled her chest with happiness.
She smiled shyly back at him, her eyes taking him in as she remembered last night. His eyes were brighter than they had ever been, his normally steeled face was soft and relaxed, his platinum hair glowed in the daylight like a halo, and his lips…his perfect, bowed lips…dusky pink and still slightly swollen from being kissed all night long. It was hard to believe that such a perfect being of ethereal beauty loved her back.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, his voice was so gentle and carried such warmth.
Ayla nodded, "Yeah, did you?" she asked, inwardly cringing at the sound of her voice. Her voice was hoarse and she sounded like a heavy chain-smoker, but that didn't seem to bother him as he lifted his hand to smooth back her hair from her face. Her hair…it probably looked like a bird's nest by now! She tried to be as discreet as possible under his stare, sliding a hand over her mouth to check for drool. Oh thank goodness, no drool. She supposed immortality had its ups and downs; the up is that she'll never have to worry about dying in a nursing home from neglect. The downside, she'll never have the perfection the elves seem to ooze from every pore, from the tips of their toes to the ends of their hair, nothing on them was ever out of place. Lucky bastard probably never had to suffer the agony that was puberty and teenage acne that required a five month course of accutane.
"Having you sleep in my arms again gave me comfort in the night." He leaned into her, pressing his dusky lips to her swollen and bruised ones. As sore as her lips were, she didn't mind a little pain if it meant she could continue to kiss this man. "You are so beautiful like this, naked in my bed, and just waking from a night of pleasure."
A shiver ran through her body and heat pooled between her legs. She moaned softly at the feel of his hot hand slowly grazing down her bare back and over the curve of her bottom and going further between the line of her cheeks. His long fingers reached for her still swollen lips and dipped a finger into her, taking in a sharp breath to find her wet and pulsing under his touch. His mouth found hers as he pulled her body up against him, the feel of his stiff morning wood pressing into her thigh lighting a fire in her belly. She was rolled onto her back with him on top, his hips settling in the cradle of her legs and she welcomed his weight by wrapping her legs around him and locking him in place until he gave into her need to be fully rejoined. She hissed at the stinging pain of his engorged cock pushing through her raw and tender folds, but she didn't stop him and welcomed the pain as her body granted him easy entry.
All awareness of the world that was not Thranduil faded away into nothingness. She was consumed by everything that was him, his kiss, his touch, the salt in his sweat, the feel of his skin sliding against hers. Their bodies rocking like a boat in a stormy sea, their pleasure swelling up like waves racing to crash into the cliffs. A sharp intake of air and Ayla was already riding upon the waves of her orgasm, her walls tightening and clenching around the hot, hard appendage that continued to stroke her insides, the head continuing to hit the hidden bundle of nerves. She heard a feral growl rumble out of Thranduil, feeling it vibrate through his chest as his body tensed up atop of her, a final thrust that buried him to the hilt as he released his hot seed into her, filling her up with his essence. His hips jutting forward into her as her inner walls milked every last drop from him.
Breathless and once more sated, they relaxed into the softness of the bed. Thranduil pulled himself out of her slowly with a low groan before rolling onto his back beside her. Ayla could hardly move a finger without putting effort into it, her body still humming from her climax. Any thought of the world beyond the bed was far away; her only concern now was if she will ever be able to walk again.
xxxxx
Two days and three full nights. That's how long she and Thranduil had indulged in one another's company until it was time to move beyond the world outside of his quarters and rejoin society. It seemed they would always fall into this pattern whenever she returned from an extended period away. They acted like horny teenagers unable to keep their hands off of each other, always needing to be touching. It had felt like a dream…a blissful, beautiful, shameless dream, and to wake from it was a regrettable but necessary act. And a small part of her felt terrified that she will never have that dream again, but she knew that fear would leave her as soon as she saw his smile. It was hard to hide the broad smile on her face and the rosy glow of her cheeks, especially since everyone knew.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror Ayla eyed at all the red and purple hickies on her neck and chest, she sighed at the sight of them. The memory of how she received them made her flush from her chest to her ears, and she would now have to hide them under a high collar until they faded in a day or two. Her bruised and swollen lips however were a different matter, but she had serious doubts anyone other than Kwenthrith would ask.
"How was your…eightieth? Eighty-first honeymoon?" Kwenthrith asked as she entered her room. Ayla immediately closed her gown, pulling the collar up high to hide her neck before turning to face the elf maiden. She saw the knowing look on her face, the smirk tugging at her lips, and the amused glint in her purple eyes.
"Are you keeping track?" Ayla asked, feeling her face getting hot. Kwenthrith let out a musical laugh as she approached her and took her hands in hers.
"You're happy and in love, I can see it." she said, "And Lord Thranduil, he too is happy. Happier than I have ever seen him to be when he is with you." Kwenthrith gently tugged open Ayla's collar and the amusement returned in her eyes tenfold. "It appears the past few days you've been…occupied." Ayla's face turned bright red as she clutched at her collar closed. Kwenthrith laughed again at her reaction. "You know as well I do that your love for each other is known, and it is something to be quite envious about."
"Well, I can certainly endure another's envy." Ayla said, feeling her ego swelling up at that thought.
"With all this physical activity you and Lord Thranduil have been doing then perhaps I should prepare the nursery?" Kwenthrith turned to look at Ayla, but her teasing smile faltered at the sight of her friend's expression. The elf maiden had momentarily forgotten and recognized her error. "Forgive me, melon, I misspoke."
"It's fine. That was a long time ago." Ayla reassured, giving Kwenthrith a warm smile. "I've moved on from that now."
xxxxx
(Past)
Sitting with Pamela and their two mutual friends, Stacy and Becky, for their bi-monthly get together, celebrating. It had been four years since Ayla's divorce, which meant it had been four years since Stacy go married and had just announced to the group that she was pregnant, and of course, in her early stage every waft of smell that passed her nose made her gag.
"Three-way Stacy now a mother-to-be," Becky mused, "Clearly miracles still happen in the modern age."
"You're married, why don't you have any kids?" Stacy asked with a hand over her mouth as if to keep herself from vomiting.
"Because I like to travel to exotic places, drink alcohol, eat sushi, and smoke cigars." Becky said, "And I'm not giving that up for nine months just to grow a freedom-eating parasite. Kids are nothing but a cesspool of sticky fingers, funky smells, and conjunctivitis."
Ayla snorted. Good ol' Becky, the poster-child of anti-motherhood. Although Ayla had no follow-up comment on the topic because she was the only one in their group who had multiple failed pregnancies; and she was the one who wanted children the most.
"I think I'd like to have a baby." Pamela said, giving the group pause as the three women looked to her in collective shock. "I've given it a lot of thought and I think I'd go with IVF."
"You can't be serious." Ayla deadpanned.
"Why not? I can shop around for the perfect donor, have myself inseminated, and get pregnant with no baby-daddy drama. Donor gets paid and I get a mini-me." Pamela said.
"And have you picked a donor?" Stacy asked.
"Oh heavens no! I'm not doing it now." Pamela said.
"Thank god!" the three of them all breathed together in relief.
"You bitches are supposed to be supportive friends." Pamela scoffed, "You support Stacy's alien but reject my carefully laid plan."
"Can you blame us? You're not exactly…motherly." Ayla said, "But if that's what you want who am I to stop you?"
Pamela smiled giddily as she leaned over and hugged Ayla's side. "Oooh! I knew you'd be on my side!"
"What about you, Ayla?" Stacy asked, "I know it's a sore subject for you but if given the chance, would you?"
"I think after last time it gave me a clear sign that my body just isn't made to have babies." Ayla said.
"Well, what about adoption?" Stacy asked.
"I'm a divorcee who works long hours at the hospital and is on-call every other weekend and doesn't own a car. I seriously doubt any agency will view me as a suitable parent or even as a foster parent." Ayla said, picking up her cup of coffee and taking a sip of it.
"Wait, are you saying you've already looked into that?" Pamela asked. Ayla just shrugged her shoulders.
"Leave her alone," Becky said, being the first to sense Ayla's darkening mood. "Priorities change as we get older. We're all in our thirties, we're established women with careers. Some of us are married, some of us are single, and some of us are planning to have a family. I'm proud of us all."
"How far along are you, Stacy?" Pamela asked.
"Not very far, I'm just sixteen weeks in." Stacy said.
"Four months…you're just going into your second trimester." Ayla said, "Have you done a gender test yet?"
"Isn't it kinda early to tell the gender?" Stacy asked.
"Nope, you can have a blood test done to determine the sex of the baby." Pamela said.
"Shit, medicine and science certainly is changing fast." Becky said.
"I do wanna ask you guys something," Stacy began, looking at Ayla and Pamela. "Will one of you be there to deliver my baby?"
"I deal with stupid patients and interns." Pamela said.
"I cut open stupid patients with stupid interns." Ayla said.
"But you're trained doctors; don't you all go through every aspects of medicine, including delivering babies?" Stacy asked.
Ayla and Pamela looked at each other and Ayla shook her head. "You take it, I'm tagging out on this one."
"Technically we can deliver babies but our special areas of interest in medicine don't usually put us in a scenario with infants." Pamela said, "If it were an emergency situation such as stuck in traffic or stranded in the mountains, then yes, we will deliver your baby."
"Well I still want all of you girls there, including Amber." Stacy said.
"Where is Amber these days?" Ayla asked.
"Last I checked her Instagram feed, she's somewhere in the Gobi Dessert." Becky said.
"The fuck she doing there?" Ayla asked.
Becky shrugged, "Nat-Geo sends her to the weirdest places."
"Y'know, her last gallery show was fantastic. I wonder if she'll do another one when she comes back." Pamela said.
The four friends continued with their brunch, reminiscing about their crazy twenties and complaining about their jobs. Ayla enjoyed these gatherings, cherishing the moments as she had very few people in her life that she could easily call her family, and these three were certainly those few people, including Amber (wherever she is). Their history together spanning over ten years now, and she hoped for another ten and then some. Seattle was their home, the four of them strongly agreed on that, always saying they can't see themselves living anywhere else in the world.
"To another brunch of us crazy bitches not getting ourselves kicked out!" Pamela toasted.
"To three-way Stacy!" Becky added and the four of them clinked their glasses together.
xxxxx
(Present)
Ayla sidled up to stand next Legolas who was looking down at the training field of elves practicing their skills. One elf in particular, Legolas watched with great interest. A red-headed elf maiden who Ayla knew to be a kind and curious young woman, always interested in looking through Kwenthrith's tomes. She was certainly unlike the others, making Ayla like her more.
"She's very good." Ayla said, looking down into the field.
"Yes, but as are the others." Legolas said.
She smiled, "You know, women like it when men bring them flowers. Even complimenting them on little things like what qualities you find endearing about her."
"I'm not…"
Ayla pinched his nose playfully. "I've known you since you were a troublemaking little boy. I know your tells, especially when you want something."
"Does my father bring you flowers?" he asked, rubbing his nose. Ayla smiled up at the Prince.
"No, he never has."
"Has he given you compliments of your endearing qualities?"
"Aside from our usual public banter or him belittling me at every chance he got?" Ayla smirked, keeping what Thranduil says to her in private…private. She patted his arm. "All I'm doing is giving you some motherly advice."
Legolas placed his hand over hers and looked at her. "You have always looked out for me and I will always be grateful."
"Well, I'm just relieved that you didn't grow up to be a psychopath." she laughed. Legolas chuckled and leaned down, kissing her cheek. She giggled up at him, touching his cheek affectionately before she stepped away from his side and began to walk off.
"So flowers, then?" he asked after her.
"It's a good start." she said over her shoulder. She continued walking, wandering around the maze of winding paths of wood and stone. Spring was approaching but the days still felt cold, and the forest remained quiet and still. It almost felt lonely but in its loneliness it maintained its eerie beauty. The smell of pine and dirt and ferns mixed with fresh rain brought back old, distant memories of a life that she could barely remember. A life she was ready to finally let go of in favor of the life she now lived…with the man she loved…
Yes…she was more than ready.
She thought back to that morning when Thranduil kissed her goodbye before he left to pay homage to the dwarves of Erebor for the discovery of the Arkenstone, and to continue their alliance, regardless of the strain between their people. Ayla had faith that without her going between the elves and dwarves, peace will continue. Peace had to continue. She had already seen more wars than she cared to admit, and she was tired of it all (not to mention all the traveling back and forth).
Peace had to continue.
She wasn't one for praying but she prayed to whatever deity that was out there to hear her, because she hated the smell of death. She hated looking into empty eyes of the dead. She hated having her clothes and hands stained in blood. She hated the sounds of crying from the men and women who lay dying. She's had enough of it.
"Ayla," Kwenthrith called, approaching the woman. "You look absolutely listless."
Ayla looked up at the blonde elf, gazing into her purple eyes. "Do I? Hmm, I guess I do. I just have a lot on my mind."
"Nothing worrisome, I hope." Kwenthrith said, giving her a wry smile. "Erebor is only a half-day ride from here. He'll be back before you know it."
"Wha—no, I wasn't thinking…hmph. I'm just nervous, Thror was unstable when I last saw him and I'm concerned of just how fast his mind is slipping. Not to mention Thranduil isn't the type for having a lot of patience."
"Is there no treatment for it?" Kwenthrith asked.
"There is but unfortunately it's unavailable here." Ayla said as she walked with Kwenthrith. "Even then it's a slim chance that medicine from where I come from can help."
"Do you still miss it? The place you come from?"
"Strangely I haven't thought about it in a long while."
"Does that mean you have stopped your search for a way back?"
"I've already found my way back." Ayla said, the words light and warm in her chest. Smiling, Kwenthrith hooked her arm with Ayla's as they walked in good company.
xxxxx
(Past)
Pamela rolled with laughter as she threw down the invitation card on her desk. "This is the funniest shit you've brought to me yet! What are they thinking? Were they drunk when they mailed this?"
"Clearly it's another attempt by Charlotte for rubbing it in my face after I broke her nose." Ayla said, propping her feet up on Pamela's desk. They were sitting in Pamela's new office where Ayla presented the absurd invitation she received in her mailbox.
"So are you going to attend the monster's wedding?" Pamela asked, still trying to reign in her laughter.
"Why the fuck would I want to attend?" Ayla asked, disgusted by the idea. The invitation came from her half-sister, inviting her to her upcoming wedding where she would marry Ayla's ex-husband, Greg.
"Just think of the scandal! The gossip!" Pamela said dramatically, "Oooooh! At least go and take me with you! I want to be there and watch the shit show begin."
"I'm sorry; did you forget that my bitch of a half-sister is part of the reason why I got divorced?"
"Oh please, Greg was a vein scumbag from the get-go. He's a hack of a doctor, who has been riding on the coattails of his parents' money. He's a cheating, unreliable bastard who never deserved you in the first place. To be honest, I don't even know what you saw in him to begin with."
Ayla rolled her eyes. "He wasn't always an asshole. Believe it or not I was very much in love with him once."
"Once—that's the key word."
"True. I guess our relationship soured after my first miscarriage."
Pamela seemed to have sobered up from her earlier mirth. "Soryn, you and Greg were having problems long before the miscarriage. Here's the clear cut truth, your marriage fell apart not even six months after getting hitched and a year in you catch him in the act with that spoiled slut. And I say as revenge, you crash that bitch's wedding and announce to all of her guests how she met her new husband."
Ayla couldn't resist but laugh, and was then joined by Pamela. "Well, when you put it that way maybe I should bring the girls with us."
"I'll message them." Pamela grinned, grabbing her phone. "We should go out tonight. When was the last time you got laid?"
"Pam…"
xxxxx
(Present)
"She liked the flowers I gave her." Legolas said, lying down on the chaise beside Ayla. He smiled at her, reminding Ayla of the cute little boy she remembered as she smiled back.
"Tell me about it, what did she say?" Ayla asked, eager for a distraction from her yearning heart. She was pathetic, feeling like a dog waiting for her master to come home so that she could wag her tail and jump around and bark in excitement. She seriously needed to get a hobby.
"She thanked me, saying it was a thoughtful gift."
"And?"
"That's all, there's nothing more."
Ayla sat up and twisted around to look down at Legolas. "That's it? No romantic walk to get to know each other, no kiss on the hand with a promise of more?"
"N-no, I just gave her the flowers and then we parted."
Ayla closed her eyes to keep herself from rolling her eyes. "Well, there's always a next time." she sighed, lying back down. "It's not as if you'll never see her again."
"Then what do I do next time?"
"Oh for heaven's sake—don't you know anything about women?"
"If I did I wouldn't have taken your advice about the flowers."
"Obviously."
"So…should I be expecting a new sibling soon?" Ayla smacked his arm and Legolas laughed.
"You and Kwenthrith, I swear." Ayla huffed as she shifted to lie on her side facing him, "The answer is no, so you can relax because you can continue your reign as being the only child."
"Father truly loves you," Legolas said, turning his head to look at her. "He's loved you for a long time. Possibly before I even realized his feelings for you."
"Hmm, what tipped you?"
"The way he looked at you whenever you were around showed it, and whenever you left he would become listless."
Ayla snorted, "Listless? Thranduil? I find that hard to imagine."
"It's true, and I'm relieved that he has you."
Ayla smiled and moved down to snuggle against Legolas. "Tauriel is a lucky girl. Getting the attention from a handsome prince." he chuckled, moving to situate his arm under her head. "I want to see you happy, too. Ah, I never thought I'd be giving dating advice to you. A part of me wishes you were still that little boy with the scraped up knees and bringing me toads from the river." she gave a dramatic sigh. "You grew up too fast. Next thing I know you're getting married and having children of your own."
"I think I need to get better at courting first, otherwise I'll never get to marriage and children." They laughed together.
"Tauriel…she's a Sylvan elf, right?"
"Yes, and you're a human, right?"
"Questionable at this point, I'm gonna shelve that for a later date. So back to you, what does your father think about you going after Tauriel?"
"I don't think he knows. Quite possibly he will voice his disapproval and give me that glare he's so infamous for."
"Mmm, I've been on the receiving end of that glare many a time. However I did build an immunity to it from constant exposure. Besides, you're father can't disapprove of you being with a Sylvan elf, I mean he and I are together and I'm not even an elf! He would be a hypocrite if he forbade you."
"Perhaps."
They laid in silence for a few breaths. "Who the fuck are we kidding, he's gonna say no."
Legolas let out a long sigh. "Yeah."
xxxxx
Ayla welcomed Thranduil home from his journey back from Erebor, happy that he was back. Even if it had only been two days. Seeing him in armor and looking so regal and perfect—was it weird of her to be turned on by his shiny armor? Now that she thought about it, sleeping with a man in medieval-like armor has suddenly appeared on her bucket list. Dirty thoughts aside, Ayla missed him and she was going to show him just how much. Taking that back—dirty thoughts never left.
"Welcome home." she said, seeing the affection in his eyes as he kept up his image as the King everyone knew him to be. They walked in through the gates together, his hand gently on her lower back. "So…how'd it go?"
"Terribly," he replied.
"Okay, you're gonna need to give me a little more than that. What happened?"
"Their greed has reached new heights. Those dwarves have gone back on their promise and refused to give me the heirlooms of my people."
"Heirlooms? Why would dwarves have—never mind, I'm just glad you're home." Ayla said, smiling up at him. "So I'm guessing Thror's mental state hasn't gotten better?"
"No, and he even called me a backstabbing thief and a traitor to Erebor." Ayla shook her head, but couldn't help but think it a little funny. "He even said something about his grandson's wounded pride, I stopped listening and simply left."
An image of Thorin flashed through her mind, the heartbreak in his eyes when she rejected his proposal. The bracelet on her wrist suddenly felt heavy, but she had to push all thoughts of him aside.
They arrived to their quarters and Thranduil opened the door to let Ayla enter first. "Let them deal with their mad king." he said, closing the door behind him and turned Ayla around to ambush her with a searing kiss. Ayla immediately melted into the kiss, opening her mouth to him and standing on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. In a flurry of desperate hands, Ayla helped Thranduil take off his armor even though he did most of the work, letting the metal fall to the floor while trying to keep their mouths together.
Before Ayla knew it she was pinned against the wall with her legs around Thranduil's hips, her hands running over his smooth chest, shoulders and back. Thranduil had undone the buttons of her gown, the top part pulled off of her shoulders and bunched around her waist, his palms running along her bare back and up her thighs. Ayla gasped into his mouth when she felt him enter her without guidance, stretching her and filling her completely. Every thrust was slow, languid, and measured, meant to draw out the pleasure from the both of them as they looked into each other's eyes.
Their breaths, the soft sighs and the slick sucking sound from their joined bodies intensified everything. The slow, even tempo gradually increased, the sighs becoming moans. His thrusts were coming in faster and harder and Ayla could do little else but bury her face into the side of his neck and hold onto his shoulders as she felt her first climax coming. His hot breath in her ear, coming in loud pants before she heard his beautiful voice, a shuttering moan escaping from deep within his throat as his body tensed up against hers. Their mouths found each other again as Thranduil gripped her thighs and carried her away from the wall and towards the bed where he set her down upon the silk sheets. He removed his boots and pants while Ayla pulled her wrinkled gown over her head before welcoming Thranduil into the embrace of her body.
It had only been two days without his touch but her body craved and ached for him, almost as if she couldn't live without him. It was worse than any withdrawals she's ever had and she had been through a few. He was better than any high she had ever experienced, everything about him was addicting. His touch, his kiss, his smell, his stare, the sound of his voice when they made love. And it was all hers and hers alone. If the world was coming to an end then this is where she would want to spend her last seconds, in his arms and looking into his stormy grey eyes.
The midday had turned to late afternoon, and the two of them were lying in bed in complete silence, no words needing to be said. Ayla was lounging back against the pillows with Thranduil lying against her with his head resting on her shoulder. She was drawing lazy circles on his chest with her fingers while he had a hand resting against her inner thigh.
"Your son has been teasing me, asking when he should be expecting a sibling." Ayla said, feeling his hand on her thigh squeeze gently.
"Shall we work on giving him a time frame?" Thranduil asked, a slight smile on his lips. Ayla's hand stopped their lazy trail along his chest as her brain seemed to have short-circuited. Did she hear correctly?
"Honestly, I'm terrified."
Thrnaduil took her hand and kissed it. "Any child we have from our union will be in your image. They will be beautiful, strong, and sharp-tongued like their mother."
"What if I can't carry to full term?" That was her real fear. She's had so many failed pregnancies and she worried that it was because she was just incapable of actually having children. She knew was had the capability of getting pregnant, the challenge was staying pregnant until giving birth.
"I understand your fears, mui mel, but know that I will always be at your side."
"Would you be fine with them being half-elf?"
"Only if you are their mother."
xxxxx
(Past)
"I can't believe you're actually doing this." Ayla said after injecting the hormone stimulation into Pamela's ass inside her office, being an oncologist, Pamela had a way better office than Ayla. Of course Ayla's office didn't exist since she was a surgeon, maybe if she was head of the department, but she didn't want that responsibility. That would mean more responsibilities and paperwork, which would make coming to work the next morning hungover harder than it already was on a normal basis. Besides, it also meant she didn't have to deal with young interns screwing things up on her watch.
"I said I wanted to do things my way and so I shall." Pamela said defiantly, pulling her pants back up. "Besides, it's just another week before they can extract my eggs."
"Ugh! I said I'd be supportive and I'm keeping that promise to you but I draw the line if you want a water birth and ask me to be in the tub with you." Ayla said, capping the syringe and placing it on Pamela's desk.
"Oh please, I have no intention of doing something so mainstream." Pamela said, "I'm gonna do what the celebrities do and have the baby cut out of me. I'd rather have a scar than ruin my vag."
"You know, you could just do a series of ThermiVa treatments, Stacy says it rejuvenated her vaginal tissue and says it's like she never gave birth."
"What the fuck is ThermiVa?" Pamela scuffed as she walked around her desk to sit in her chair.
"She says it's a safer alternative to surgery. Apparently her dermatologist offers the service. Plus, this doctor is actually good at his job. I've even gone to him a few times."
"You? What for?"
"Oh, I had a funky mole on my ankle and it turned out to be an atypical nevus. The scar healed up remarkably well, I can barely see it now."
"I thought you didn't believe in dermatologists."
"Well he's not associated with my ex, plus he was a close friend of my dad's."
"Hmm, I'll do some research before I consider it."
"Do you need me to hold your hand when you go in to get your potential spawns extracted?"
Pamela smiled, "Yes, please."
"Also I'd be more than happy to cut you open, it'll be like reenacting the scene from Alien." Ayla said before she left the office. Ayla had to sigh as she walked down the hallway towards the other end of the hospital towards the Surgeons' wing. Pamela was going through her plans of intravenous fertilization, another of her friends aiming for motherhood. Even Becky mentioned having her IUD taken out and said "we'll see what happens." Was Ayla the only one who felt like babies were not in her future?
