Linwe knew all about having a heart of steel. You have to, when your mother dies as you're just a small Elfling, your older siblings treat you like a leper and your father is too busy with the Council to deal with you. And when he does deal with you, it's to tell you that you cannot learn to fight and, oh yes, you need to leave and go halfway across Middle Earth to live with a king even he can't stand.
Linwe wasn't even sure she had a heart, until that silver-haired angel appeared. Now she couldn't comprehend what she was feeling, never knowing that Thranduil was feeling the exact same way.
As she thought of him, there was a knock on her chamber door. She opened it and an Elf handed her clothing to train in: the green and brown uniform Legolas and Tauriel wore, not the armor worn when actually in battle.
Disrobing and happily discarding the flowing dress she had been wearing, she donned the leggings and tunic, feeling much more comfortable and free to move. There are no doors in the kingdom (except gates in the prisons), and she had no idea someone had been watching her.
Thranduil had come down her way only to be sure she had received the clothing when he saw her standing there in naught but her leggings and boots. Heat creeped up his neck and a blush suffused his cheeks. Her long dark hair covered her pale, perfect skin and as she was about to turn around, common sense took over and he crept away so she wouldn't see him.
He ducked into the nearest empty room he could find, so he could catch the breath he had been fine with moments ago. He noticed that his pants were uncomfortably tight, a feeling he had not experienced since he had first met his late wife. He had not meant to see Linwe in such a way, he told himself. And he also tried to tell himself that he had not wanted to stay and see her as she turned, but he was no fool. At nearly six thousand years old, he might not have been the wisest or oldest Elf, but he had more common sense than to lie to himself. He had wanted to see her, and he had wanted her to know he was watching.
"By the Valar, I am losing my mind," he said, wishing that his hard-on would go away so he could get on with his business. But he was not losing his mind. He was regaining his heart.
Linwe joined Tauriel outside the gates of the Woodland Realm for training. They were near enough to the kingdom that spiders wouldn't be an issue, but not so close that they would accidentally injure one of the other Elves.
What surprised Linwe was the fact that the prince was there as well.
"Just interested to see the sort of fighters Imladris breeds," he said when she questioned his reason for attendance.
"Show me what you can already do. Are you an archer or a swordswoman?" Tauriel asked.
"Swordswoman. And dagger-woman, I suppose. I never did well with longbows," Linwe said. She surveyed the chest of weapons Tauriel had brought and selected a long sword, two daggers and two spares.
Tauriel pulled her daggers and they immediately began to spar, Tauriel going very easy on Linwe, as she didn't believe that the princess could fight as well as she claimed. But she was very wrong in her assumptions.
Linwe was a fighter of the likes of Legolas, graceful, beautiful, precise and deadly. Had this been a real fight, Tauriel was certain that she would not have survived more than five minutes. As it was, she lasted about seven minutes before Linwe had her in a choke-hold, a dagger to her throat.
"I win," she said with a knowing lilt in her voice.
Legolas looked shocked, and he went to Tauriel to see if she was all right. Aside from being breathless, she was fine (to his relief), though her pride was wounded.
"Want to have a go?" Legolas asked Linwe, eager to test out the skills of a new fighter (and avenge Tauriel's loss).
"Are you sure you can take me, Princeling?" she challenged. She stood tall and proud, her sword at her side and her chin raised. Tauriel watched her carefully, knowing that she was not like any of the other Elves. She was different. She was harder, wiser and much more dignified. Tauriel was not an Elf blessed with foresight, but she knew that this was a true ruler, an Elvenqueen.
The fight with Legolas took longer, and there was no clear winner at the end of it. Legolas had never lost a fight, nor had he ever met an Elfling who could actually match him in battle. He was very impressed.
"Why did you let Ada make you agree to train? You should be training us," he commented.
Linwe gave a mocking bow. "Because Thranduil does not trust easily. I agree to train, you go to him and tell him I'm already good, and he will just say I need more training, because he won't believe you. I could fight him, and he would still order me more training, because he is a proud king, and won't admit it when he is bested or wrong. So it was easier to just agree right away and forgo all of that."
"How do you know his personality so well?" Tauriel asked.
"Because in many ways it mirrors my own," Linwe revealed, wiping off her sword. "So we just have a little fun sparring and pretend I'm learning."
Tauriel shrugged. She kind of liked the princess, despite her similarities to Thranduil. She wouldn't mind getting in some extra exercise with an Elf who could beat her. Thus far, the only other time Tauriel had been beaten was when she fought Legolas.
"Legolas!" a sharp voice called. All three Elflings turned to see their king, who never, ever ventured further than the gates of the Woodland Realm. "I did not give you leave to hang around the guard all day. You are needed." His icy eyes traveled to Linwe, who tried to ignore the flutters in her stomach. "I will have need of you tomorrow. You are to sit in on a meeting with an emissary from Lake-Town."
Legolas gave a playful pout at his friends and told Linwe, "Better you than me," before he followed his father through the trees and back home.
Linwe kept looking in the direction they'd disappeared in before sheathing her sword. Was it inappropriate to be thinking sinful thoughts about the king who had graciously taken her in? She was fairly certain that it was.
"Good luck having to hang around him all the time," Tauriel scoffed. "If I were in your place, I'd go running back to Imladris, begging to be let in."
Linwe gazed down at the Sylvan Elf and said, "I do not beg, Tauriel. If you would prefer to take my place, why don't you leave instead of insulting your king?"
Tauriel watched as Linwe glided away, her grace evident in every movement even when she was vexed. Tauriel wondered about Linwe's feelings regarding Thranduil. By Elvish nature, sex equaled marriage, and once an Elf had sired or birthed a child (as Thranduil had) they no longer had any interest in romance. But Thranduil's boy was grown, and his wife had been dead over two thousand years. Was Linwe's possible love misplaced or would Thranduil be the first Elf to take a second wife? The thought of anyone sleeping with the king made Tauriel feel ill, as she had never liked him very much. But she did see the different way Linwe acted around Thranduil. It was not very obvious to most, but to her it was clear as day.
"Linwe, if you get your heart broken, do not come and seek me for comfort," she muttered, sorting the weapons to take back into the kingdom.
Thranduil's first rise since his wife died did not leave him completely throughout the rest of the day. Thankfully, his long robes and gowns covered up the evidence of his arousal and no one, not even his observant son, noticed. But he knew about it, and he felt quite ashamed and disgraceful. He had loved Celeblasbes with all of his heart, and had never wanted another Elf since her death. The physical reaction he was having towards Linwe was disturbing him. This was not Elvish custom, and he worried what the Valar thought if they saw him.
But he could not get the sight of her beautiful body out of his mind. After dealing with some minor business with his son, he realised that he needed relief.
"Ada, why did you pull me away?" Legolas asked, and Thranduil told him a lie he had barely formatted in his mind. He had really been spying on Linwe. He watched her defeat Tauriel and come to a stalemate with his son. As impressed as he was with Linwe's fighting skills (and her accurate assessment of Thranduil's personality), he was disconcerted at how close she and Legolas appeared. He had been jealous of his own son!
"Tell me, are you getting along with Linwe?" Thranduil asked him.
"Yes, I am. She is...interesting. I am not sure if Tauriel likes her or not. She told me Linwe reminds her of you," Legolas said with a small chuckle.
"She is not of our world, Legolas. She will leave us as soon as her adar sends for her, so do not get too attached to her," Thranduil warned.
It dawned on Legolas what his father really meant. "Oh! No, Ada, I do not like her in that way. She does not attract me. It is not Linwe I am interested in...in a romantic way."
Thranduil did not say anything, lest his relief be evident in his voice. He simply bid his son a goodnight and went to his chambers to relax. He spent some time reading, and even a little more writing in his daily log. He did everything he could to make the uncomfortable feeling below his belt go away, but to no avail. The sight of her smooth back and long, silken hair was burned on his brain and every time he closed his eyes he saw her, and he had no problem imagining her completely naked, spread below him on his vast bed, his name on her lips repeatedly as he thrust inside of her, seating himself in her warmth…
He banged his hand on the table, making a crack in it. His mind had gotten away from him and now the hard-on was back in full force. He knew how to take care of it, obviously. But he also knew that that was forbidden amongst Elves as well. Pleasuring oneself was for heathens like Dwarves and Men, not the Eldar. But if it was between pleasure himself or possibly injure himself by staying that way, he'd choose to pleasure himself.
He slowly divested himself of his robe and gown, removed his crown and let his hair hang freely around his aristocratic face before he got into his bed and lay propped up on his pillows. He felt ashamed at what he was going to do, but his long cock was swollen and leaking as awful thoughts danced through his head. He needed immediate relief and so he took himself in hand and began to stroke.
Linwe was charged with adrenaline as she decided to wander the vast halls, going deeper in than she had on the first two days of coming to Mirkwood. Many rooms were unoccupied, and she did see Legolas reading at a desk in another.
A few meters down, she heard a light moan that stopped her in her tracks. It was not a moan of pain, but rather of pleasure.
Curious, she walked towards the sound and nearly fell back in shock and awe. In what could only be described as a hall of its own was Thranduil, reclining in the center of a large, white bed, propped up on soft pillows and naked as the day he was born.
Linwe knew she should walk away, hurry back to her room before she was discovered, but how could she? The sight of her new king was arresting and beautiful. His long, pale legs were spread, his hard torso was lean and well-muscled, and his large, strong hands were gripping his impressive length, pumping it at a leisurely but rough pace.
Her heart sped up and she had to bite her lip to keep from gasping as she watched him. So far he was only using one hand to spread precome down his length and caress it tightly. His face was flushed and his eyes were half-lidded, dark lashes casting shadows on his face. His lips were parted in pleasure, soft sounds escaping them and making Linwe's knees weak.
He looked so sensual, so beautiful there, bare and spread and vulnerable. She watched him and imagined that it was her hand that was caressing his engorged length, her hand that was giving him those moans of pleasure that sent shivers through her body. She felt heat pooling between her legs, a warm wetness that was entirely new to her. She was not ignorant. She knew about sex and desire, she had just never experienced it before now. She did not know, however, that what Thranduil was doing was against the Elven code. All she knew was that she was enjoying the sight.
She bit her lip harder, and without thinking found her fingers trailing to the thin leggings and pressing against herself through the fabric, wishing it was his tongue instead. She moved her fingers to the same pace he was moving his hand.
She watched as he threw his head back and started pumping his hips up into his hand in a motion as graceful as every other thing he did. He pumped his hips harder and she moved her fingers quicker, barely aware that she was doing it. Her every thought was on Thranduil.
Thranduil let out a moan that went straight to Linwe's wet nub and she came (quietly, she had enough control over herself to not be discovered), biting her tongue to keep him from hearing. As soon as her heart rate began to slow she watched the Elvenking's hips still and his long, beautiful cock spurt come in thick ropes, covering his hand and stomach as he kept moaning and gasping.
When she realised that Thranduil could now sit up any second and see her, she bolted, heading straight back to her room and burying herself into her bed.
She closed her eyes, replaying what she saw in her mind until she fell into a blissful slumber, grateful that she had not been caught.
Thranduil knew it was wrong to pleasure himself the way he did, and he also knew that it was very wrong to put on a little show for his unexpected audience of one. He smirked to himself that the princess had thought she had come and gone unseen. But it was her presence, and the fact that he saw her fingers trying to pleasure herself while watching him, that made him come so violently and moan so wantonly.
He shamefully hoped that she had liked what she'd seen and come back for a more...personal demonstration.