Chapter 5

Hauled from the Ballroom, Thranduil roughly leads you through a labyrinth of corridors by your upper arm. Twisting and turning, you are pulled into a room so grand, it's undoubtedly his chambers. Letting go of you, he slams the doors shut. He moves past you and begins to pace around the room. You hate the silence as you stand immobile, too scared to move.

Stopping, he turns to look at you. His eyes are blazing. You can tell he's pissed.

"So you prefer to dance with lowly elves…"

You remain silent.

"…did you enjoy the feeling of his arms around you?"

You can't answer.

"Did you yearn for him whilst you were dancing with me?"

You look away from his piercing stare. The rumours about his temper flooding your mind.

"Did you wish it was he who had asked you to the Ball?"

"But…I wasn't-"

"I WATCHED YOU THE ENTIRE TIME, DO YOU THINK I'M A FOOL?!"

You wince at his words as your timid attempt to challenge his interrogations had caused him to roar. Trembling with fear, you begin to sob quietly.

Ignoring you, he continues,

"Lavishing attention upon him like…like a dwarf overcome with greed! Do you really think I would have chosen you, should I have known you preferred some common elf over your King?!"

He sneers at seeing you recoil. You feel completely powerless as he walks towards you.

"Oh, my flower...why must you persist to resist me, hmm?"

Your throat swells.

"I have wanted you from the moment you set foot in these halls. I have watched you every day since. Heed my words when I say that I will have you."

Grabbing your hand, he traces his finger all the way up to your collar bone. His voice grows darker, his hair grazing your exposed shoulders as he leans in close to your face,

"Do not think I am intolerant, my love. I am patient."

He kisses your cheek and wipes away a stray tear.

"I can wait."

God, you want him.

As he goes to move his face away, you catch him (and yourself) by surprise, kissing him quickly on the lips. Unsure if this is what you really want, you shut your eyes tightly, not knowing what his reaction will be.

"Oh, my darling…" he hums,

"...you cannot simply tempt your King without promising to deliver satisfaction..."

With your heartbeat ringing loud in your ears, you run towards the door, but your efforts are in vain as you are lifted from the ground. You squeal as Thranduil picks you up wrapping your legs around his waist. His muscular body pushes you back against the closed doors.

Your chest rises and falls in anticipation as his eyes twinkle with desire,

"You drive me insane woman."

You can't breathe. He is so close to you with one knee in-between your legs you can feel the growing bulge in his trousers as his arousal deepens. Inhaling his vanilla and cinnamon scent, you can't help but imagine what his skin must taste like. It's killing you not to succumb to him, but your inner voice tells you it's not a good idea…what if it is a trap?

Curling his finger around a strand of your hair, he pulls you in, kissing you hard. You soon run out of breathe as he drinks from your mouth, tasting you, quenching his lust for you. Pushing your hands lightly against his chest for support, he reluctantly pulls away from your lips, causing you to moan. His eyes are alight, lips smirking as he takes hold of both your hands by one of his. Placing them above your head, he lifts your chin and growls,

"You are mine."

Back at the ball, the King's actions have caused quite a stir. Everyone appears uncertain of how to act.

Taking control, Elrond reassures them,

"Fellow elves, do not be alarmed. The King has to attend to some, umm…urgent business. I can assure you he will be back presently."

The music slowly pipes up and the atmosphere becomes less awkward. Tarron, worried by the King's outburst at you, tries to find Legolas. Shoving his way through crowd, Tauriel is hot on his heels,

"Tarron, wait! He's over here!"

Surprisingly, she appears to express concern about you and upon finding Legolas, she is the first to ask about you,

"What happened? Where did he take her?!"

"I'm sorry Tauriel, I do not know…but he wouldn't dare harm her, you know that."

"Well we don't know that, do we." Tarron spits irritably, "didn't you see which direction they went?"

Shaking his head, Legolas apologises for a second time. Tauriel's face contorts in confusion,

"What was he even mad for?"

Nym, steps forward, looking embarrassed,

"We…we were just dancing and then the King pulled her away. It was as if-"

"So this is your fault?"

"Erm, no-"

"Clearly it was, otherwise she would be here."

Legolas interrupts, defending his best friend,

"Don't blame this on Nym, if I recall, you weren't much help either. Both of you were stood chatting…and whilst I think about it, why are you so bothered? You haven't even spoken to her."

He directs the question at Tauriel,

"It may come as a surprise to you, Legolas, but it's nice to have some female company around here that isn't the King's maids…and I haven't found an opportunity to talk to her yet."

Tarron erupts, "Can we just find her!"

"Look, let's just wait till the Ball is over, then you and I will go looking for her. We can check the throne room first."

Legolas goes to protest but she places her hand on his arm,

"It's best if Tarron and I just go. Neither of us are allowed at the conference anyway, and if the King doesn't show up, they'll need someone to represent our realm."

He sighs as she smiles, he knows it's for the best.

"Are you always going to insist on being right?"

His smile is playful and his gaze lingers on her for far too long, noticing this, Tarron pulls the focus back on him, worried that there may be something more between them than friendship,

"Fine. But if we have to wait, may I at least have this dance with you?"

As Tauriel hooks his arm, the pair strolls off, leaving Legolas to simmer. Although he liked her, he wasn't ready to let her know it and he certainly wasn't ready to let some ill-bred elf get in there first.

It's fast approaching midnight and the conference is minutes away from getting started.

Unaware of this, King Thranduil's hands continue to roam over your body, pawing hungrily at your dress to expose more of your milky skin. Carrying you over to his bed, he places you down softly onto the crimson sheets. He lifts you up and opens your legs over his, so that you are straddling him.

As he claims your mouth over and over again, his tongue revelling in control, you moan into his mouth wanting more. He breathes heavily as his chest rumbles at the pleasure he gets from hearing the sounds you make.

Exasperated by the layers of clothing, he rips the silver fabric of your dress in half - it seems he wouldn't have had the patience to wait for you after all. You feel a blush creep over your cheeks, you hate being this exposed. Noticing this, Thranduil gives out a low chuckle. He pushes you back so that you are lying down, head against his golden pillows. Clothed in nothing but your underwear, his hand delves between your thighs, casting aside the material, he plunges two fingers deep inside you. You cry out as he begins to move them in and out at a frustratingly slow pace. He is teasing you, and you can't help but love it.

You whine, out of breath from the pleasure,

"Please…Thra-"

He kisses you again,

"…I need..."

"Demanding more of me already, my sweet? Shame on you."

He pulls back from your kiss-swollen lips to study his work as the pressure builds in your lower stomach.

"Oh, but darling…how can you blame me…"

"…you have no idea how divine you look, squirming beneath me, dripping wet, just for me. I want to savour every moment."

You writhe and wriggle, trying to create as much friction as possible, but he refuses to quicken the pace. His huge body is almost twice the size of yours, but this appeals to him; making his dominance all the more apparent. As he moves away from your lips, he leans down into your neck, placing feather-like kisses. Your moans increase in volume as his long fingers continue their work and just as you feel you can't take any more, his head dips down to find your most sensitive spot.

"Oh God."

You thought his tongue had worked wonders in your mouth, but this was sensational. He barely gets going when the door springs wide open.

"My King, the conf-"

Seeing Thranduil between your legs, he flushes red. The King turns round to shoot him an icy stare and the guard backs out slowly,

"Get. Out."

"Yes, my King…I, I apologise. I did not kno-"

"If you are not gone within two seconds, I shall have your head as my doorstop."

And with that the guard flees. Looking back to you, Thranduil caresses your cheek and smirks, as if he enjoys leaving you on the brink,

"Well, my Lady. I'm afraid that I am needed elsewhere…"

His fingers still deep within you, he retracts them, licking them clean.

"…mmmm, I can't wait to taste you again….do not leave this room."

Moving off the bed, he places a kiss onto your forehead. Straightening up his appearance, he struts over to the door whilst you let out a frustrated sigh,

"Oh do not worry, my love. I'll soon have you screaming my name."

As the door closes behind him, you lie still on the King's bed, taking in what just happened.

Your thoughts are then scattered, as the door unexpectedly creaks open again, but this time, not to a welcome face. As you scramble to cover yourself, you freeze. Recognising the intruder as the elf who you overheard from the Ball, his words whirl around your head.

Shutting the door, he sniggers,

"Well, well…it appears you look even more tempting without that dress covering up your pretty body..."