Chapter Five
First Time
As the warm Mirkwood glow settled on Nienna's pale skin, Legolas lay in awe; her sleeping form laying identically to the morning they met. Suddenly, his awe morphed into anger at the memory of her lifeless body under the stocky Orc who sought to have his way with her and Legolas clenched his jaw in fury. The idea of anything harming her was abhorrent to him. And yet, the exact opposite thought, the possibility of someone else saving her had the same effect. He carefully wrapped an arm around her, careful to remain above the bed sheet and resumed his gaze on her pretty face.
Nienna could feel his steady gaze and occasionally felt it fall from her unmoving eyes to her lips then down the arc of her throat before resuming their position on her face. It was admirable, she thought, that Legolas showed so much restraint even as she feigned unconsciousness while she lay naked mere inches from him. His actions rekindled the hope she held onto when she arrived at Mirkwood.
Chirping birds soared over Mirkwood, under a fierce blue sky that stretched for miles and keeping with printanier spell of the past few days. Nienna, fully conscious of Legolas' muscled arm encircling her waist from the side, felt his exquisite warmth and nearness to her unbridled body which made her feel protected and a familiar languor fell on them.
"Are you awake, my Prince?" She asked softly after a few moments.
"I am."
Sweet silence followed before Nienna rolled under his arm to face him. His gaze, the only other pair of eyes she's ever woken up to, possessed not the misery of Him but her salvation in the bottomless depths of those blue eyes.
She knew, her nakedness discomfited him but his will was strong; and in that moment, like a ray of light breaking through a cloud, she understood something. Legolas was not Him. He was the antithesis.
"You saved me." Said Nienna.
Legolas gave a small smile, "it was only seven Orcs."
He brought his hand to her face and she didn't flinch away, he would not hurt her. He brushed away a stray black lock and tucked it behind her ear before leaning in to kiss her. It was sweet and gentle, it was so Legolas and she accepted him of her own volition.
Her hand snaked under the sheets to the apex of his thighs and her fingers began to fumble with the opening of his breeches. She was no stranger to the criss-cross of those laces but this was different, this time it was her choice. A large hand wrapped warningly around her wrist and Nienna looked up unto his confused face.
"I don't expect you to do…anything." He said reassuringly but Nienna only smiled.
"I know." She replied before kissing him and resuming her ministrations under the covers.
When his laces gave way, she drew his manhood from his breeches, its length already hardened at her touch. He pulled her lithe body closer to his, her breasts pressed against the muscled wall of his chest. Her hand pumped his arousal while the tip of her thumb smeared the little drops of cum over the head and Legolas groaned into her mouth.
"Nienna…" He whispered breathlessly and he groaned louder before pushing her into the bed to lean over her. Nienna lay on her back, his blonde hair creating a curtain around their faces, and gazed up at the panting Prince. It elated her to no end, that her slightest touches had drawn this kind of a reaction from him.
He hovered his hand above her skin, desperate to touch any and all parts of her but he hesitated; unsure of her. He lightly trailed the tip of his finger across the valley between her breasts leaving a trail of goose pimples in its wake. His thumb brushed against the skin of her soft mound before retracting quickly, like her skin was scalding hot. Nienna's own movements slowed, until she looked into his eyes and saw something so unfamiliar.
Apprehension.
Nienna took his hand and guided it down her chest, pressing down so he could truly feel her; all the while keeping eye contact with him. She took his other hand and brought both of them to her sides and smoothed them over the small of her waist to the sides of her ribs. His usually piercing blue eyes were softer, in awe of her.
"I want you to touch me," she blurted, surprising herself. It never began with her wanting it.
She let go of his hands and let his fingers explore the pale expanse of her skin. He was gentle and careful, so unlike anything she's ever felt that she couldn't help but feel precious…significant. Her fingers returned to his engorged cock, her silkiest touch eliciting a hiss from him.
"Nienna…I can't please." He begged before wrapping her bare legs around him. He looked into her eyes, the jade pools drowned with lust, his heart thumping his chest.
"Do you want to?" He asked and she nodded. She kissed him as he entered her slick channel, her walls clamped down on him with exquisite tightness.
"Nienna," he moaned, clenching his jaw. Then he began to move, the delicate friction sent shocks of pleasure through her body and she writhed under him. Soon his thrusts picked up speed, their moans echoed throughout the room, their peaks coming ever closer.
He snaked his hand over her chest, cupping her soft breasts while her pale thighs hugged his hips. His touch was gentle and deliberate, his concern for her was evident in every thrust, every caress.
"Legolas, yes!" Nienna cried as she orgasmed with Legolas' following shortly after.
Legolas fell onto his side, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Then, as quick as lightning, he shot out of the bed and began to scavenge for his clothes. Nienna, still lost in her post-coital bliss, was dizzy with confusion as she watched Legolas scurry about her room putting his clothes on.
"Legolas, what is the matter?" She asked.
Legolas opened his mouth to answer before immediately closing it, telling Nienna that his father was waiting for him did not seem a good excuse but Thranduil would be angry if he came late or, Valar forbid, he didn't turn up. Ambivalent, Legolas rushed to the door, his head downturned so as to not give anything away. It was common knowledge that he was a terrible liar.
"I have, a, erm, prior engagement that I cannot delay thank you for your time." And with that he shot through the door.
Nienna remained in her bed, the sheets drawn up around her naked body and the over familiar feeling of being used wrapped around her mind. She stared at the door, long after it had closed, Legolas' beautiful white blonde hair swirling behind him as he escaped her.
Escaped.
Yes, she thought, escaped.
Tears came hard and fast, her chest wracked with uncontrollable sobs at her own, new realisation. Legolas was Him, or perhaps, was Nienna just being…Nienna?
She rose from the bed and approached her ornately framed mirror. Her green eyes assessed the image presented to her, from the long black hair that tumbled down her shoulders over her bare breasts to the tips of her small, pale feet.
What's to want? A thing like me, of course they'd not want me, no, not in the way I want them. I have nothing to offer a Prince, no earth-shattering beauty, song-bird voice or divine wisdom. Just a hole, a tight hole, to spill their distraction.
A strange feeling overcame her, unlike anything she'd ever felt, a novel consciousness that dawned on her.
I am worthless.
She held herself, feeling unequivocally empty, a cold dribble slid down the inside of her thigh, the feeling of which was enough to make her sick. So Nienna turned away from her reflection toward the vast expanse of Mirkwood framed by her window, her insignificance exaggerated when she saw the splendour of the forest and the world around it. The birds navigated between trees, the wind blew with force and direction but all Nienna saw was purpose. She turned away, back to her reflection in the mirror with Mirkwood in the background and asked herself.
What do worthless people do?
He had dreamed that her lifeless body on the make-shift bed was just her sleeping form as she lay next to him; her pink lips puckered slightly, her ample chest rising and falling with each breath. However he tried to imagine her eyes, from their shape to their colour, all he could see was just closed pale eyelids with long dark lashes. Thranduil relaxed into his chair and stroked his long hair, letting the strands slip between his tapered fingers.
Knock knock
"Your Majesty, YOUR MAJESTY!" Yelled a familiar stocky voice. Sighing, Thranduil turned to the door and announced for Maeglin to enter and only raised an eyebrow as his huffing, out of breath advisor tumbled in.
"The Prince is missing and the elleth of yesterday, I assume he discovered her missing and went after her." His tone was lined with dread. Immediately Thranduil stood, his heart preforming the same violent thumping of the previous day at the thought of his missing son.
"Assemble a group of guards to search the palace, send Tauriel and at least five others into the forest. I want every guard on the loo-."
"I didn't know you cared so much, Ada," an amused voice spoke belonging to an elf who leaned against the door frame. Thranduil's rigid demeanour softened at the sight of his fair-haired son before his eyes narrowed into angry slits.
"Of course I care! How could you say that to me?! I raised you and this is what you do to me…" He droned on about the sacrifices he made for the betterment of Legolas.
Maeglin was the only elf to spectate their King and Prince speaking to each other in that way and made no move to comment on it.
"And lest I forget! You cannot go chasing after every elf and elleth who gets into trouble! Your life is precious and vital because you are a Prince. Need I remind you of what happened when you went after Lores? You need to let The Guard do their job and keep in mind that as the heir to this Kingdom and my son, you need to be more vigilant about yourself."
"Ada, yes I understand! I wasn't chasing her, she just wante-" Legolas replied, exasperated before being interrupted.
"I don't care about the specifics! You are always putting yourself in danger and I won't have it! Now sit and eat your breakfast or are you going to disobey me in that as well?" His voice was laced in warning and Legolas had no strength in him to prolong the argument with his father. So the fair-haired Prince walked morosely across the room and took a seat in his usual position at the breakfast table under the steady gaze of Thranduil and Maeglin.
"Thank you Maeglin," the King turned to his stocky advisor whose muscles were thick and bulging under his robes, "you may go."
Maeglin bowed to both his King and Prince, his gaze lingering on the back of Legolas' head a little longer than necessary before departing. Thranduil whirled around, his exuberant and rich robe twirling about him, and came to sit opposite his son whose face resembled that of a sour grape.
"Eat." Commanded Thranduil, not in the least swayed by his sons' obvious pouting. Legolas reached for the steaming hot food in front of him and piled them onto his plate with his father following soon after.
"How many orcs were there?" Thranduil asked as he popped a segment of an orange in his mouth.
"Seven." Legolas didn't even look up as he broke off a piece of buttered bread and ate it.
"And you were just ambushed?" Legolas sighed at his father's disbelief.
"Yes, Ada. But nothing terrible became of it." Thranduil scoffed and turned away, plopping another orange segment in this mouth. They ate in silence before Thranduil looked unto his son and asked:
"How did she get hurt?"
The stillness following this question was like emptiness between breaths. Thranduil sat eagerly awaiting an answer while Legolas was trying to contain his rage at the memory.
"An orc forced himself on her, knocked her out." He gripped the bread with an angry fist and swore under his breath while Thranduil sat back in his seat.
"At least she is safe now." Their eyes met in understanding before continuing their breakfast without another mention of the previous day's events. Thranduil watched his son continue his breakfast in a hostile mood.
"Do you remember when you cut that hole in Maeglin's breeches?" Legolas choked on his food before swallowing and bursting into laughter. His eyes watered as they recalled the memory of Maeglin, built like an ox, screaming when he realised he'd been flashing his pubes all day. Thranduil relished in the fact he made his son happy, hoping his dear wife witnessed his triumph.
The ominous red and orange sky stretched over Mirkwood as the sun settled behind the Lonely Mountain. The rain of the afternoon long gone leaving Mirkwood in its dewy aftermath. Nienna reclined on her window seat, her raven hair loose from its restricting braids as she read from a scratched library book named, Imladris: The Hidden Valley.
She sat engrossed by the vigorous detail of the geographical standpoint of Rivendell, its cumbersome structure well-hidden by the Misty Mountains. Nienna spent the better part of her day in ardour, remembering with a smile the slight details described by the book of her old home.
Knock knock
The exactitude of the knocks were obviously Legolas' and the knowledge that he stood just outside her door made her feel overwrought. She was determined to not let the events of this morning make her contemptuous toward him but grant the Prince a stern, affable manner that would hopefully send him on his way.
Slowly pushing the handle of the door downwards, she became suddenly aware of the cold, moulded metal her deft fingers wrapped around and all the world seemed to still and stagnate as it usually did when she was with him.
"Nienna," he gave a gracious smile and her stern, affable manner melted, "I must apologise for my manner of leaving this morning. It was hasty and rude and I fear I may have hurt you."
His openly honest apology coupled with his entreating blue eyes had destroyed all the doubts about herself that had beset her. She offered a forgiving smile and he moved toward her, scooping her up in an all-encompassing embrace that left her breathless.
"Why have you come so late, Legolas?" She asked as he set her feet on the ground.
"I am on patrol tonight," he sighed, looking down at his feet, "I wanted to make sure you were well although I suppose Larien would be the better judge of that."
"Larien?" Nienna queried.
"She is my father's personal Healer, she attended to you yesterday. Your bruise has healed nicely and you seem yourself again." He smiled sweetly.
Nienna smiled back at him, her eyes animated with internal happiness at the thought that the King had offered his most esteemed Healer to her. She made a mental note to go see the King and thank him for his special attention.
"Are you on patrol all night?" Nienna asked, looking out over dusky Mirkwood.
"Yes, it will be long and boring and I will be alone to my thoughts most of the night." He gave a sad smile which gave Nienna an idea.
"How about I give you something to think about all night long?" Her smile morphed into a smirk and she trailed a tapered finger over a brown leather strap that crossed over his chest. Looking into his eyes with a suggestive twitch of her eyebrow she hooked her finger under the strap and pulled him with her as she walked backwards into her living room. Legolas kicked the door shut behind him as he gave her a matching smirk of his own and Nienna turned to push the armoured Prince into a chair. She hiked up her silky nightdress revealing a hint of pale skin before kneeling before him. Her deft fingers undid the belt of his breeches that struggled to contain his obvious arousal.
As he sprung out in front of her, Nienna looked into his needy blue eyes before letting her mouth descend onto the engorged head of his cock.
Her footsteps echoed through the hallway, the grandiose designs of the interwoven ubiquitous beech roots only increased her diffidence as she felt banal among such splendour. Her violet silk dress hugged her small frame, caressing her tiny waist to the gentle flare of her hips and the heavy material swirled around her dainty ankles as she walked. Two guards poised at the other end of the hallway stood at attention as the pretty elleth approached, their curious eyes wandering over her exquisite body.
"What business do you have with the King, my Lady?" Asked the burly guard on the left, his silver and green uniform stretched over his taut muscled chest; he had a knavish smile that unnerved her.
"I would like to express my gratitude to His Majesty for having his personal Healer attend to me." Her voice was soft and lilting in comparison to the gruff tone of the guard. The armed elves shared a lewd look and a crude smile before turning back to the elleth, her wide green eyes holding much consternation. The right guard knocked on the door behind him twice before opening it for Nienna.
"Take your time expressing your gratitude," whispered the right guard as she walked passed him, "no one else is scheduled for the rest of the night." He spoke directly into her ear making her flinch away which incited a laugh from the guards and she scurried into the Hall. The door closed behind her, muffling their laughs, and Nienna took her first tentative steps into the King's Hall ignoring their lewd laughter.
He sat high above her in an imposing throne made of twisted wood that curved into a throne. His pointed crown bedecked in woodland flowers wrapped around his head and over his tipped ears, his recognizable white-blonde hair hung loosely over his broad shoulders. Nienna was startled by the similarity he held with his son although his features were more mature and distinguished. His face was sharper, with eyes that dominated her with their striking blue hue and demanded her submission. She found that him somewhat familiar.
Her arrival sparked surprise in him which he masked with a cordial look. He evaluated her as she stood by the entrance, his gaze unwavering.
Green, he thought, her eyes are green.
Thranduil found himself entranced by the unusual colour and he leant forward in his seat to get a closer look. He beckoned her forward with a flick of his finger and she slowly, shyly made her way towards him, offering a simple shallow curtsy and an affable smile when at the foot of his throne.
"M-my King," the closer she got to him, the more nervous she felt. How does one so low ranking address a King? "I wo-would like to thank you for your…profound…generosity when you lent the services of your…personal Healer to me. I am deeply indebted to you…and…thank you…for the sentiment."
The sentiment? Nienna wanted to punch herself in the face, the sentiment! I am an idiot.
She looked up to the King, his face was passive, indifferent. His blue eyes seemed dull and his entire countenance seemed…bored. Nienna immediately grew worried that her gratitude would not be accepted by the King and fretted over reasons as to why. Was her thanks too late? Had she angered him by saying the sentiment? She was suddenly constrained by a need to please him, resurrect the reason as to why he gave his special attention to her. She pleaded with her eyes as he gazed down at her but he continued to seem disinterested.
"Name?" He asked apathetically.
"Nienna, my King," she replied, her eyes downcast.
"I accept your gratitude most humbly," his tone was sarcastic and it perplexed Nienna, "you may take your leave."
Nienna quickly bowed and was overwhelmed with anguish, she quickly scuttled through the same doors and she hurried passed the guards who snickered behind her.
Thranduil stared at the door long after she left, her deep jade green eyes still swirling in his mind as he recalled the promise he made to his lost wife. He shifted in his seat and tugged at his breeches to accommodate his now swollen member. He took a deep breath and looked out the pane-less window.
It is going to be a long night. He thought.