The Seven Seeing Stones
Author's Note:
Thank you so much to Laurenke1 for all your constant support for this story so far. If anyone else is still reading this I'd love to hear from you so please review.
Nine
First Blood Spilt
Dinner was going as well as could be expected. Avaanta had lost none of his past charm and before the main course was served he had the King's daughter fluttering her long eyelashes at him, coyly tracing her foot up his leg beneath the table.
He would have her in his bed before the night was through and then it would only be a matter of time before he made his move to discover the whereabouts of the King's Palantir.
Avaanta hadn't eaten well for the past few weeks and it took a lot of self-restraint not to devour the meal like a starved animal. Rohan's King turned out to be quite the bore and Avaanta found himself flirting with his daughter simply to pass the time, even though he already had her wanting him more than he had ever expected. He had thought perhaps the mask would work against him but it seemed to be surprisingly to his advantage, almost as though she seemed to find something oddly fascinating about what could lie behind the reflective surface.
Either way Avaanta didn't care, he need to get her into bed before the night was through if his plans were going to work.
Avaanta raised an eyebrow and coughed slightly as her foot strayed a little higher up his thigh than it had been previously, he couldn't believe how easy this was going to be.
The next thing for him was to test the King's opinion of him flirting with his daughter. So as the main meal was cleared and they prepared for dessert Avaanta became suddenly more open with his flirtations. She responded with equal enthusiasm and the King didn't seem to have a bad thing to say about it, or if he did he certainly kept it to himself. In fact if Avaanta didn't know any batter he'd say that the King of Rohan didn't mind or didn't care if his daughter flirted with a soldier from Gondor, or a man he thought was a soldier of Gondor, and it was not long before the King excused himself to leave them alone.
"It's a shame you're only staying for one night Avaanta. There are a few things I'd sure like to do to you."
She smiled suggestively as she traced a now bared foot up the inside of Avaanta's thigh. He caught her foot in his firm grip and gently began to massage the sole of it.
"What could you possibly think of to do which we couldn't achieve in a night?" He lent down and placed a kiss upon her toes before raising his eyes to meet with hers.
Lothiriel licked her lips and drew her foot carefully out of Avaanta's grip and held a hand out to him instead. He placed his hand in hers and let her pull him up to stand. He wrapped an arm firmly about her waist and pressed a fierce kiss to her slightly parted lips. She kissed back and was about to ask him to come back to her room with her when his voice cut into her thoughts.
"Join me in my room?" He breathed huskily into her ear.
She shivered against him before nodding and allowing him to lead her off towards the guest room he had been provided for his stay. As they walked quickly down the halls Avaanta hoped that Celeborn had vacated his room by now cause he certainly didn't want to have to explain that tonight.
The two slipped into Avaanta's guest room and quickly devastated one another of their clothing as they made their way to the bed. Avaanta had a sly feeling that Lothiriel may make a habit of treating many of Rohan's visitors to the kind of treatment Avaanta was now experiencing.
Avaanta took her hard and roughly, her fingers tracing over the scars marring his pale well-muscled torso excited him as much as his brutal advances excited her.
Several times she reached for his mask but each time Avaanta would rip his head from her grasp and growl low in his throat before thrusting harder into her.
Both climaxed quickly, a strangled howl from Avaanta & a long low moan from Lothiriel, as she arched up against her midnight lover, vocalised their pleasure.
Avaanta lay awake for sometime, long after Lothiriel had fallen asleep across his chest. He sneered disdainfully down at her sleeping face and wanted desperately to remove her from his body, but for the moment could not risk waking her.
Finally he was sure she was sleeping deeply and he carefully rolled her off him and held his breath as she curled into a tight ball beneath the sheets. As she settled again he let a long breath out and slipped silently across the room and to the door.
Hand poised on the door handle he froze as the soft feminine voice of his bed partner called out through the dark.
"Legolas!"
His breathing ceased as he waited for her to continue, praying that she was merely calling out in her sleep.
"That was your name once wasn't it? You're the Prince of Mirkwood."
She was sitting up on the bed now, the sheets pooled about her waist, exposing her naked breast to the night air.
"I knew it from your ears, you had to be Elvish. That's why you wouldn't let me see your face isn't it? Why are you calling yourself…"
Quick as lightning Avaanta was at the bedside and had a firm grip upon Lothiriel's delicate wrist, hauling her up by her arm he pulled her to him.
"What do you know of anything?" He hissed, baring sharp white teeth in the dark. "My name is Avaanta, you will never tell another soul that I once went by another name."
"But why hide yourself, you're protected under Gondor's laws Legolas."
She let out a strangled cry as the Elf pressed a long knife to the pale, delicate skin of her exposed throat.
"I am not Legolas, do not address me as such or your life will be cut remarkably short."
She whimpered quietly as Avaanta spun her around so her back pressed to his naked front, his strong arm pining her waist to him while he pressed the knife ever more firmly against her supple skin.
"Now, while I have you in such an obviously vulnerable position, tell me where does your father keep the Palantir?"
"I don't know what you're talking…" She gasped in fear and Avaanta quickly moved a hand over her mouth to muffle her cry as he pressed the knife more firmly against her neck, drawing pearls of blood to the surface, pooling along the knife's edge.
"Don't toy with me girl you will tell me where that Palantir is or I will kill you, and no one will find you till morning you slut." He hissed in her ear, flicking a tongue out over the shell of it as he did. "Do you give yourself so freely to every guest who visits your father's kingdom?" He chuckled cynically as she sobbed at his cruel words.
"Now, about that Palantir." His voice was no longer sly or teasing but dangerously firm.
She choked out a sob but Avaanta only pushed the knife's sharp edge deeper into her flesh.
"Alright! Alright, please just don't kill me!"
Tears stained her cheeks as the poured from her fear filled eyes.
"Good girl. Now, where does he keep it?"
"There's a trapdoor in the floor of the throne room. It….it's hidden under a…a…a red rug. Go down the stairs and you'll find it. The door isn't locked, father only locks it when he leaves Edoras for travel."
"Well done Lothiriel. You have served your purpose."
Cruelly Avaanta pushed the blade deep into flesh and drew it swiftly across her neck as he tugged her head back with a fist full of her hair. The wound gaped open as he cut all the way through to her spinal column, blood pulsed from her served arteries and leaked from veins. A watery gurgle sounded from her severed windpipe as it filled with her own blood.
Her body fell limp in his grasp and he released his hold on her, her dead weight slumping to the bed. The white sheets now crimson with her sprayed blood.
Avaanta sneered in disgust at the angle of her head to her neck as he wiped his knife clean on the sheets.
Her body would not be discovered until morning, of the he was certain. All he had to do now was collect the Palantir and fetch Celeborn from the servants sleeping quarters. The second task was easily done; no one would blink an eye at a guest of the King requesting the presence of an Elven slave in the middle of the night. The first would be harder as he knew the throne room was well guarded, even at night.
A sly smirk crossed his face, a plan formulating slowly in his mind. It depended on a lot going the way he needed it to but for the moment it was his best shot. First he would need to retrieve Celeborn from the servants sleeping quarters, he was going to need a small amount of input from the other Elf for this to work.
He quickly dressed but decided against carrying his bow and quiver with him, it would only make his appearance in the throne room suspicious. In fact, now that he had lit a lamp and checked himself in the mirror, he decided his soft leather outer tunic was best done without also. Pulling it off over his head he placed it on a chair that he had lent his bow and quiver against.
He stood before his reflection, adjusting his longer silvery tunic on his torso before checking his dark green leggings and face for any blood traces. Finding his appearance adequate so as not to arouse too much suspicion he quietly slipped out the door and down the corridor.