The King's Mistress
K. Rayne
Rating: T for now. M in later chapters.
Summary: Lady Lostariel was more than happy to be hidden away in the library with her books and scrolls, until she catches the eye of the Woodland King and nothing she has ever known will be the same again.
Pairing: Thranduil/OFC
Notes/Warnings: This will be slightly AU. Sex between elves doesn't mean their married. Personally, that never made sense to me since they live forever. So, I would think that they will take lovers throughout their lifetime and that remarriage is ultimately an option. If you're a canon purist, then this is probably not a story for you. Also, set pre-Hobbit.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to The Lord of the Rings. I own my own original characters and ideas... but I am just playing with Tolkien's genius.
Chapter One
I glared at my sister through the mirror as she tugged particularly hard on a strand of hair.
"Ouch! Is that really necessary?" I grumped as she ran the brush through my waist length hair again.
"You will get over it," she commented as she tugged again. "Naneth told me to make you pretty and believe me that is proving to be difficult."
I gritted my teeth. Caldawen had always been the pretty one. She flirted with literally everyone. All of the King's guard wishing for an introduction. She was tall, lithe with soft golden hair and bright blue green eyes. That might be the only feature we shared. While I, on the other hand, had inherited our father's darker looks. Mother said my hair reminded her of rich earth, Caldawen called it mud.
I personally couldn't care less about what color my hair was, how neat it was or even the dress I wore almost was two sizes too big. I spent most of my time in the library anyway, and no boy paid attention to me, so why did it really matter.
"If I have to stand next to you all night, you better be presentable, I can't have you scaring off all my suitors." Caldawen tugged on the hair again.
"If you keep pulling as you do, I will be bald!" I bit back.
"It would be an improvement," she hissed.
I whipped around to glare at her. I wanted so desperately to smack the condescending smile from her lips.
"Get out."
"But Naneth said…"
"I don't care what she said. Get out. I can ready myself."
Caldawen threw the brush at me and I caught it before it could hit me in the face. I stuck my tongue out at her as she spun on her heel and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Spoiled brat.
I tried to push her from my mind as I finished brushing my own hair. Getting up from the vanity I went over to the dress that had been laid out for me, made special for the occasion. It was a deep blue with hints of purple, silver threads making it sparkle along the neckline and around the short sleeves. Somehow it reminded me of the night sky in summer when it was clear and every star was visible. It was beautiful, more beautiful than I was accustomed to wearing. Mother insisted that I look presentable, even if I had no idea why. I secured the thin silver belt around my waist.
It was the Prince's begetting day celebration. Everyone who was anyone was going to be there. Every eligible maiden in the kingdom was invited, something about the King forcing him to choose a bride. I snorted just thinking about it. If Mother thought she could dress me up and parade me around like my sister and the other empty-headed maidens, I was going to be sick.
The Prince would never show interest in me. I wasn't his type. Yes, I saw the other girls he made eyes at. My sister being one of them. Ugh, the whole idea was ridiculous. Besides, he was arrogant, self-centered, haughty even. No, he would pick someone pretty without a single thought in her head.
That was the scary part, I realized, that whatever moron he chose for a princess would one day become queen. Now, I really was going to be sick. Maybe I spent too much time reading or helping the other scholars in the library, but he really needed something else. Something more than some dimwitted female that would hang on his every word. But who was I to judge. My father was one of the King's Captains and my mother a seamstress. With any luck, I would spend the rest of my eternity up to my elbows in dusty old scrolls and be perfectly content.
I sank back down on the chair in front of the vanity and tried to pinch some color into my suddenly pale cheeks.
"Lostariel!" my mother shrieked from the doorway and I shuddered. She used my full name, now I was in trouble.
"Yes, Naneth?" I asked sweetly as I turned to face her.
"What did you do to your sister that has her all upset?" She stood in the doorway, her hands planted firmly on her hips.
"She called me ugly again."
Mother just sighed with a rolled of her eyes. "She makes it sound like you wanted to gouge her eyes out."
"Yes, well, there is that, but then I would be stuck with a sister who is as blind as she is dumb and I really don't want to be burdened with that."
"One of these days, your tongue will be the better of you," she commented as she entered the room.
She reached into the small bag dangling from her wrist and pulled out a long string of white pearls.
"I thought you might like to wear these. They belonged to my mother." She secured the necklace around my neck.
"Thank you."
"You will be on your best behavior tonight. No more arguments with the King's councilors."
"But Naneth, Lord Arandur had no idea what he was talking about, if he had actually read the scroll, he obviously would have known…" I stopped, biting my lower lip hard at the glare she gave me. I huffed a sigh. "Yes, Naneth, I will not argue with the councilors."
"Good. Now, let us find your father and Caldawen so we can head down to the feast."
Consequently, we find them together. My sister no doubt complaining to Father about my treatment of her. But unlike Mother who liked to blame me for most of our arguments, my father understood. I was more like him, while my sister was more like our mother. Father and I understood each other in that way.
We walked together with Mother and Caldawen in front of us. I looped my arm through his.
"You look beautiful this evening," he leaned down to whisper.
"You have to say that, Ada."
He chuckled. "I mean it. The Prince will be pleased."
"He will not notice me, Ada. He never does. Not with her in the room." I jerked my head in my sister's direction. "Or any of the other girls in the castle."
"Nonsense. Even if you don't catch his eye, there will be plenty of others."
"Trying to get rid of me by marrying me off?" I teased.
"Never." He kissed the top of my head. "I just want you to be happy."
"I am happy, Ada. You are the only man I need in my life."
He just chuckled as they approached the great hall. I sucked in a breath. It seemed like every elf in the entire forest was here. It was truly overwhelming. I didn't like people as a rule and didn't like large groups of people even more. But once my mother decided that I must attend the Prince's feast, there was no way out of it.
At least I got to see him.
My eyes immediately found him at the far side of the room as soon as we entered. My heart jumped into my throat and I grew warm just gazing at him from afar. My girlish crush on him was positively ludicrous. He didn't even know I existed. And while it hurt a little to think that he didn't even know my name, I made myself accept it. If anyone, let alone Caldawen, knew I had feelings for him, I would never ever live it down.
Father cleared his throat, breaking my stare. He leaned down to whisper in my ear, over the sounds of the party. "You do not have to stay longer than is necessary. The Prince will be announced and as soon as you are presented to him, you can discreetly disappear."
I gave his hand a tight squeeze. "Thank you, Ada."
Besides, I couldn't stay in the room with him, longer than was needed either, least I find an excuse to make a fool of myself. My mother liked to think I argued with Lord Arandur because I wanted to. Really, I was just trying to get his attention. It didn't work.
"His Majesty, King Thranduil of the Woodland and his Royal Highness, Prince Legolas!"
The entire room turned at attention to the King and his son on the far side of the room. Prince Legolas was welcoming the guesting and speaking about something, but none of it sank in. I simply watched the King, where he now sat up his tall throne, his golden hair spilling over broad shoulders, the circlet of mithril upon his brow and the cloak of dark forest green spread out around him.
It had been a long time since last I laid eyes on the King, since I very rarely attended public gatherings and he even rarer visited the library. And it was probably a good thing. I was nothing more than the daughter of one of his numerous Captains. No doubt still a small girl elfing in his eyes. But in my eyes, he was everything.
I sent a prayer up to the Valar as my father laid my sister and myself closer to the dais, awaiting our introduction to Prince Legolas.
"Caldawen and Lostariel, daughters of Captain Veryan."
Caldawen grasped my hand and practically dragged me with her as we approached the Prince. I dipped down into a deep curtsey, keeping my eyes fixated on the floor, knowing full well that Caldawen was batting her lashes.
I couldn't look up even if I wanted to, knowing he was right there in front of me.
"A pleasure to meet you both," Legolas said warmly.
"Thank you, your highness," I whispered before I quickly moved away. Caldawen lingered for a moment longer.
I quickly found my father off to one side. He wrapped an arm around my waist as I laid my head on his shoulder.
"You did well."
"Thank you, Ada. Can I go now?"
"Of course." He kissed the top of my head before releasing me.
I quickly weaved my way in and around all the people as I made for the exit on the far side of the room. I had almost reached the door when I heard my name being called out. I sighed, the voice my masculine at least and therefore not my mother or my sister catching me in the act of trying to leave.
"Lady Lostariel, please wait!"
I stopped by the door and turned around, frowning at the sight of the sentry jogging my way. Beleg, I believe his name was, one of the guards under my father's command.
"Can I help you?" I asked politely.
Beleg stopped before me with a short bow. "His majesty would like a word."
My heart stopped and dropped into the pit of my stomach. I suddenly felt very lightheaded.
"Yes, of course," I managed to force past my lips as I allowed Beleg to take my arm.
I couldn't deny the King, who was known for his rather furious temper. But it didn't seem to matter in that moment. He wanted to speak with me. Me! I made myself promise that I would not throw up on the King.
How long had I dreamed of an introduction to King Thranduil? His name alone sent shivers down my spine.
Before I knew what happened, I found myself standing before him as Beleg made the introductions once more.
"My king," I murmured as I dropped into another curtsey and I stayed there staring at his feet.
I felt his hand upon my chin, forcing me to look up into his crystal blue eyes. His face remained placid as he gazed down at me. I suddenly wanted the floor to swallow me whole.
He took a step back and offered me his hand. I just stared at it.
"Dance with me." It was not a question but a command, his voice soft and hard all at once. Deep and smooth.
I numbly placed my hand in his as he helped me rise back to my feet. I followed him blindly out onto the floor, the crowd parting as we passed. He stopped in the middle of the floor, wrapping an arm around my waist. I picked up my skirt with one hand while the other connected with his over our heads.
I found myself gazing into his eyes, trying to figure out why this was happening to me. But he was unreadable. So, we danced. Our feet gliding instinctively across the floor, I followed his strong lead not missing a step. Even if I spent most of my time surrounded by books, I loved to dance. And the King? He was a better dancer than I could have imagined.
His grip around my waist tightened as he pulled me closer, lifting me off my feet and expertly spinning us both around. I was dizzy by the time he set me back on my feet, every inch of me that had been pressed up against him tingled.
As the song neared the end, he pulled back, taking my hand in his. He pressed a feather light kiss to the top of it.
"Thank you for the dance," he murmured against my skin, and I barely heard him over the thundering of my own heart.
"Sire," I answered softly before bobbing into a quick curtsey.
As soon as he released my hand, I turned on my heel and ran out of the hall. The gathered people moving to get out of my way. The room suddenly feeling too hot and too close. I couldn't breathe. My heart threatened to burst from my chest as I ran all the way back to my room, not caring who saw me.
I threw myself down on the bed, burying my face in a pillow as I gave out a wretched sob.
Thranduil had asked me to dance with him. The object of my affection had finally taken notice of me and what do I do? I run away like a scared child. But even if that was all I was ever going to get, that one dance, that one chance to be in his arms, it would be enough.
It would have to be enough.
TO BE CONTINUED….