Captives

by Amber815

When Tauriel sets out to investigate suspicious activity beyond the borders of her homeland, little does she know that this is just the beginning of the greatest adventure of her life. The young Dwarf she encounters in captivity fascinates her in ways she cannot quite comprehend and she follows him on a quest that may decide over the lives of many as well as her own happiness.

21. On Borrowed Wings

21: On Borrowed Wings

Without their usual tasks to perform, the day preceding the Harvest Hunt passed with agonizing slowness. Tauriel wasn't sure what Gansukh had imagined they would be doing with all the time they suddenly had on their hands, but it was somewhat hard to relax with the uncertainty of what tomorrow would bring looming over their heads. But then again, he had never struck her as particularly capable of putting himself into their shoes. Or sandals, in her case.

Despite her reservations about the event, she was thus rather glad when the sky turned first orange, then red, heralding the arrival of the evening hours and the feast which was to be held there.

All afternoon, she and Kíli had watched the house and the surrounding grounds be groomed and decorated for what looked like a big occasion indeed. They had tried to distract each other with idle conversation about topics of both little and large consequence, but in the end their eyes had kept drifting back to the party preparations in nervous anticipation.

Now, Tauriel tried and failed to suppress a slight shiver as the rapidly cooling air touched the skin left exposed by her gown's low neckline. Kíli squeezed the hand she had intertwined with his.

"Do you want to head inside?"

"Not particularly, no." She sighed. "But I suppose we should."

Kíli slid off the bench and tugged on her hand until she followed. He stepped closer, close enough that he was forced to tip his head back to hold her gaze, and took her other hand as well.

"Whatever tomorrow may bring, I don't think tonight will be so very bad. Perhaps there will be some decent food at least." As if on command, his stomach gave an impressive growl.

A smile tugged at the corners of Tauriel's mouth. "Is food all you think about?"

His eyes dipped to her lips, lingering there for a bit. "Hmm, no, not by far," he said rather distractedly. He swayed forward on his feet, and Tauriel felt her own heartbeat quicken in response. Kíli's stomach rumbled again, even louder this time, and they both laughed.

"It is rather high on my current list of priorities, though," he amended a little ruefully.

Tauriel could not resist ducking her head to steal a quick kiss from his lips. "We had better make sure you do not starve, then."

And wasn't it curious how even with all the nervous anticipation coursing through her about the evening ahead, she still had more than enough mental capacity left to wonder if they would get a chance to spend some time away from prying eyes before they were taken to the mainland the next morning. For while she had been nothing but grateful for Kíli's steady presence at her side during the whole day, even the more secluded corners of the garden had been public enough for them to refrain from anything more expressive than a mere brush of lips or holding hands.

From the way Kíli tugged her closer to his side as they reluctantly made their way over to the house, she suspected that he, too, would not mind having a secluded corner to themselves for a bit. Well, the night would tell what might be done about that. But first, they had to get through whatever Gansukh's idea of a feast might be.

Kíli had not been wrong, at least, to hope for a rich supply of food. Upon their arrival at the house, they discovered that the many floor-length windows on the ground level had been opened and thereby allowed the party to spill from the inside of the house onto the surrounding grounds. They were greeted by the sight of tables which were laden with plates of colorful fruit Tauriel had never seen before, large baskets of crusty bread, and trays of cheese and thinly cut meats. And there was wine—plenty of it, in fact, being poured from large jugs into the goblets held out by guests.

The wine appealed to Tauriel more than the food itself, but she judged it a bad idea to indulge in it when she was expected to give a demonstration of her skills with bow and arrow later on. Unless she wanted to continue Kíli's tradition of impaling members of the audience. But while they had gotten away with that back in the arena, she doubted that Gansukh would be so very lenient in his punishment if it were a member of his own household that was affected. She'd wait with having a little sip until later, then. If she was allowed, that was.

For one thing still had not become clear to her: what role were they expected to adopt during this strange event? Were they here as guests, and invited to partake in the enjoyments the celebration offered, or were they simply here to provide a particular kind of service without being an actual part of the feast itself?

Kíli did not appear to share in her insecurities on the matter and made a beeline for the food as soon as they had stepped into the circles of soft light provided by both lanterns and torches. Tauriel followed close behind, not wanting to risk becoming separated in unfamiliar territory. As she went, though, she was painfully aware of the crowd subtly moving around them, making way while simultaneously gathering closer to stare at them. The attention was causing her skin to prickle uncomfortably and did nothing for her appetite.

Despite not feeling hungry, she plucked a few grapes from their stems at the table Kíli had selected, cradling them delicately in her palm. "Perhaps we can find somewhere less. . . exposed while we eat?"

At her whispered suggestion, Kíli looked up from his delighted examination of the table's offerings as if he had quite forgotten where they were and glared at the curious faces he was met with.

Quickly piling a selection of cheeses, meats, and bread onto a plate he had rather unceremoniously cleared of the fruit it had previously held, he balanced the plate on one hand while grasping her elbow with the other.

"Yes, let's go. Shouldn't be that hard to find a place to hide in that convoluted house."

They headed inside, where their hopes of finding a secluded spot in the maze of the indoor garden they had glimpsed during their morning visit with Gansukh were dashed almost immediately. In the center of the garden, the master of the house himself was holding court, his wide face—already flushed from food and drink—breaking into a delighted yet unpleasant smile as soon as he spotted them.

"Ah, my guests of honor! Come, come, such fine silks as you have been so graciously provided with are not made to be hidden in shadowy corners."

His eyes roved over them, lingering longer than necessary on the plunging neckline of Tauriel's robe and, if she was not mistaken, on the way the flamboyant fabric of Kíli's tunic stretched over his broad chest and muscular upper arms. All she wanted to do was hide in the shadows Gansukh had just mentioned so derisively, but she refused to be cowed by his overconfident manner and kept her head up and her shoulders down as she moved towards the small island of floor cushions their host had been gesturing at, tugging Kíli along with her.

With Gansukh at their center, a small group of people was already gathered on the plushy seats, most of them young men and women dressed in robes even more exquisite than Tauriel's, their expressions ranging from placate over carefully bored to outright vacant.

Across from them, Tauriel spotted Timon perching on one of the large pillows, looking like he had eaten something that had left a bad taste in his mouth.

He couldn't possibly be vying them the attention they were receiving, could he? If he was, then he had even less sense than she had begun to suspect earlier that day, in the garden.

Tearing her eyes away from Timon's sulking form, Tauriel noticed that Gansukh was leaning forward in his seat, his beady gaze fixed on the newcomers.

"You are just in time," he said, "to regale us with the tale of the last combat you fought for me, and the highly amusing outcome."

There were two things wrong with his statement—one, they had not fought for him, but for themselves, for their lives. And two, there had been nothing even remotely amusing about it. Still, Tauriel said neither of these things, lowering her head to hide her frown instead. "Seeing that you were a spectator then, do you not think that you are able to give a better, more complete rendition of the events?"

If Gansukh caught on to the implication that his presence in the audience back then might as well have earned him a spear through the heart instead of his rival, he did not show it. Instead, he launched into a liberally embellished tale of the last time Kíli and Tauriel had fought in the arena, the men and women seated directly around him hanging onto his every word, while the rest of them listened with polite impassivity.

Throughout Gansukh's increasingly dramatic narration, Kíli somehow managed to maintain a thoroughly indignant expression even while his mouth was crammed with the food he had brought with him. That, in itself, was a tough test for Tauriel's composure and more than once she fought the urge to laugh hysterically. Yes, their situation was precarious, but wasn't it also outright ridiculous?

Gansukh's flair for the dramatic had not been exhausted yet, it turned out, and after a few similar stories designed to put him in a favorable light in front of his followers (those, thankfully, did not include either Kíli or Tauriel and they were free to sit and listen in detached bemusement), their whole group ventured outside into the courtyard which stretched almost all the way to the main gate, the smaller buildings framing it like a crowd of innocent onlookers. Night had fallen completely during the time they had spent as reluctant members of Gansukh's audience, but the square was brightly lit by blazing torches and smoldering bonfires, bathing the graveled paths in crimson light. The tension in the air was palpable among the guests who had flocked outside at their host's command and were now waiting for the spectacle they had been promised to begin.

The demonstration itself turned out to be somewhat anticlimactic, at least in Tauriel's opinion. The arrows (or spears, in Timon's case) they were handed had been dipped in lamp oil and were now blazing bright, which was a nice touch against the night sky, she supposed. Other than that, however, her task was pretty straightforward: nick am arrow, aim, breathe out, release.

She struck the target which had been set up on the other side of the square right in the middle—once, twice, and a third time, for good measure.

Timon launched his burning spear across the considerable distance to his target with ease, nearly knocking the construction over with the force of his throw. Tauriel could not help but be impressed and did not quite understand why the applause he received sounded so much more polite than the ovations she had drawn out of the audience. Neither could Timon, judging by his sour expression.

The only small hiccup in this otherwise smooth, utterly predictable performance was provided by Kíli. It did not escape Tauriel's notice that when he stepped up to take up his stance, arrow already held between his fingers, his eyes darted left and right, calculating, no doubt, whether a repetition of his performance in the arena would be feasible, tonight.

Her heart skipped in her chest. Don't do it, she cautioned him silently. If he did try to fight his way out of there, she would follow him, only she doubted they would get very far.

And so it was with some relief when his arrow hit straw instead of flesh, not quite as centered in the middle of the target as her own, but still a competent enough shot to cause the audience to cheer and Gansukh to beam. They were playing his game, for now. Not for much longer, though, if Tauriel had any say in it.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

It was earlier than Tauriel had dared to hope when she was released from the festivities and taken to the chamber she had been surprised to learn to have been assigned to her for the night. It was on the first floor of the house, and below her she could hear the party continue without her, the sounds of music and laughter carrying up to her through the open window.

Well, she did not envy them, not in the least, and breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the door fell shut behind her, the guard who had chaperoned her to her room wishing her a muttered goodnight.

For a few seconds, she listened to the steps of the guard fading down the hallway. Her door was neither locked nor watched, but she was confident that should she venture beyond the long corridor which housed her room, she should find one or perhaps several of Gansukh's men stationed there. It was just as well—she had no intention of trying a risky escape tonight, when tomorrow would yield much better opportunities to regain her freedom.

And also—she smiled to herself as the sound of footsteps softer than those of the guard could be heard padding along the corridor—the presence of guards somewhere close by could not hinder her from doing what she had longed for all evening. And, to be honest, all day.

The door opened somewhat hesitantly and Kíli poked his head in, looking relieved when he saw her.

"Good, this is the right room after all," he said as he slipped inside, quietly pushing the door shut behind him with his foot. His hands were occupied by two goblets of wine. Under what reasoning he had managed to sneak those away from the party, Tauriel did not even want to know. "I was a bit worried that I was about to walk in on the sight of Timon baring his pale arse before hopping into bed."

Tauriel giggled. "How do you know it is so very pale?"

He came to stand beside her where she had been looking out the window and handed her one of the goblets. His fingers were warm when they brushed hers, the touch sending a delicious tingle of anticipation down her spine. "Have you seen the rest of him? For someone who spends hours on a beach every day, he has maintained what one might call a somewhat delicate complexion."

Which was true, Tauriel had to concede. In the few days they had been here, Kíli had acquired a more substantial tan than Timon, and even Tauriel herself had noticed the small freckles, which only ever became visible when she spent extended periods of time in the sun, make an appearance.

Taking a sip of her wine to hide the blush which had crept onto her cheeks when she remembered how Kíli had started a delighted investigation into how affected the parts of her which rarely saw the sunlight were by this particularity of her skin, she smiled. "I believe his room is one door further down from this one if you would like to put your theory to the test."

Kíli gave a snort. "And abandon my current company? I think not."

His dark eyes glinted at her in the muted light emanating from a single lantern placed on a low bedside table and Tauriel gripped her drink a little more firmly, not wanting to betray how strongly his closeness affected her. She was not one to play games, but still she did not want to make it quite so very easy for him.

She sipped her drink again, relishing in the warmth which began to pool in her belly. The wine was different from the ones which her king stored in his wine cellars, less potent and not as sweet, more on the fruity side instead. She found that she quite liked it. Not that that mattered much, for she intended to have no further opportunities to indulge in it after today. As for tonight, though. . .

She swallowed another fortifying mouthful and placed her now half empty goblet on the narrow window sill. Turning to Kíli, she plucked his own drink from his fingers and set it down next to hers. The question in his gaze quickly turned into intrigue when she stepped closer and slowly ran her fingertips up his arm. She cocked her head to one side.

"I believe that is enough talk about Timon's pale-or-perhaps-not-so-pale body parts, don't you think?"

Kíli's pretense at serious contemplation of the matter was somewhat foiled by the visible shiver running through his body when her fingertips reached the neckline of his tunic and traced it to where it dipped down toward the center of his chest.

"You might be onto something there," he managed, his voice strained. Her hand dipped below the top layer of his wrapped tunic, finding warm skin and coarse hair underneath. Her thumb briefly scraped across a puckered nipple, which was when Kíli's resolve broke and he yanked her into his arms.

The force of his kiss nearly caused them both to topple over and Tauriel was glad that the small chamber was so sparsely furnished that there were no items to trip over as they stumbled across the room, regaining their balance with Tauriel's back against one of the walls and Kíli pressed flush against her.

His lips left hers to trail hot kisses down her throat and along her collarbone, his hands abandoning her waist to toy with the embroidered neckline of her dress. "All day I've dreamt about getting you out of this dress." His cheeks were flushed as he gazed up at her. "Can I?"

Tauriel managed a breathless nod. "Please," she said, the husky quality of her voice causing her to squirm and Kíli to grin.

"As my lady commands, then."

Only the slight shaking of his hands betrayed that he, too, was struggling with his composure as he slid the garment off her shoulders with agonizing slowness, his eyes eagerly trailing every new inch of skin he uncovered. The cool air drifting in from the open window was a delicious contrast to the warmth radiating off his skin and Tauriel bit her lip to hold back a moan as the dress slid past her breast, creating a brief moment of friction before loosely pooling around her waist.

"You know there is a proper bed in the corner, don't you?" Tauriel breathed into Kíli's hair as he pushed forward to attack the area around her collarbone with his lips, his urgent arousal pressing into her thigh.

Kíli's growl did not indicate whether he had heard her question, but he did seem to experience a certain amount of frustration over the fact that due to their difference in height, their bodies did not align properly in their current position. With a firm grip, he all but swept her legs from underneath her as he pulled her legs around his hips, using the wall at her back for support. Ah, this was infinitely better, Tauriel decided as she felt him twitch against her where she needed him the most.

With her arms looped around his shoulders and his clever mouth and even more clever tongue teasing first one achingly hard nipple and then the other, she thought for a moment that the ground had begun to sway beneath them. Only it was them who were moving, across the room and towards the low, narrow bed onto the edge of which Kíli sank with her still held firmly in his lap.

Confident now that they would not simply crash onto the hard floor, she undulated her hips and felt his breath stutter in response, hot gusts of air brushing across her breastbone.

"This is still too much dress," he complained, gathering large fistfuls of fabric and tugging at the garment rather ineffectively.

Tauriel hummed in agreement and braced herself against Kíli's shoulders while she rose on quivering legs to allow the gown to slide down her hips and pool around her feet. Satisfied with the quick result, she sank back down onto his lap, the fact that she was completely naked while Kíli was still fully clothed only a fleeting thought at the very back of her mind.

"You. . . hmm, you are exquisite," Kíli hummed against her lips before claiming them in a world-tilting, air-stealing kiss. Tauriel gave as good as she got, even while she tried to right some of the imbalance in their current clothing situation by pushing Kíli's tunic down his shoulders. He seemed to get the general idea and shrugged off the jacket-style garment the rest of the way.

In slightly better lighting than in the loft and without the mad urgency of the night before, Tauriel took her time to examine the tattoos which had already fascinated her so when she had first glimpsed them back in their cells. Around his left upper arm, an intricate pattern wove together to form a handsome cuff. On his other side, a series of runes ran down from his ribs to just above his hip bone, each inky character standing out sharply on his pale skin. She had no idea what they meant and was afraid to ask, lest the question should drag up painful memories.

"Did that hurt?" she asked instead as she traced the inked shapes with her fingertips.

"Like a bastard." Kíli's grin as he glanced down at his torso was wry. "That's why I only got the two. Couldn't be arsed to sit through all of that pain."

Tauriel clucked at the trace of self-deprecation she detected in his voice. "Not choosing pain where it can be avoided is nothing to be ashamed of." She looked at the tattoos again, struck by sudden inspiration. "Still, those are very handsome. . ."

With her palm flattened against his chest, she pushed him backward until his elbows hit the mattress, supporting the weight of his upper body. Before she had time to change her mind, she dipped down to alternately lick and kiss along the runes adorning his flank. A stuttering sigh punched its way out of Kíli's lungs.

Emboldened by the way he writhed beneath her touch, Tauriel continued her exploration past the tattoo and across his hip bone until she was met with the waistline of the loose-fitting trousers he had been given this morning. She glanced up at Kíli and found him watching her with rapt attention, his lips parted slightly and his cheeks flushed with anticipation.

Well, she'd better give him something worth anticipating then, she mused, and hooked her fingers into the waistband, freeing him from the constraints of the garment with a few careful tugs. Her heart beating inside her throat, she realized that seeing someone without their clothes and actually undressing them were two very different things indeed. Despite the tremor in her hands, she finished her task and slid the trousers down the rest of the way, so that Kíli was able to step out of them.

Kneeling between his legs now, she ran her hands slowly up his thighs, gathering her courage for what she was about to do next. Pleasuring a partner in this way was something she had never even considered before, and yet, with Kíli, she found that she wanted to with a desperation that had her own knees turn wobbly, the already rather persistent ache between her legs intensifying. This wasn't just because he had shown her the same kind of attention that same morning, no. She was curious to see how he tasted, how it would feel to have him joined with her in this yet unexplored way.

And so she shooed away the lingering thoughts about her own inadequacy, knowing deep down that Kíli would not care about any clumsiness. Even after the night they had spent together without any inhibitions, it was still a novelty to feel the heaviness of his arousal when she wrapped her hand around his hardness, giving a few experimental, gentle strokes. Not allowing a pause for any new doubts to enter her mind, she leaned forward on her knees and enveloped him with her lips, taking just enough of him to feel him brush against the roof of her mouth.

Kíli went entirely still beneath her, even his breath getting stuck in his chest. Then, on a forceful exhale, he breathed, "Oh, Mahal, oh, fuck, I can't take this. . ."

For a split second, she wondered if she ought to stop, but seeing that he made no move to deter her, his hands fisted in the sheets underneath him tightly enough for his knuckles to turn white, she ventured one step further and bobbed her head slightly, tightening her lips as she did so. Kíli flopped back onto the bed as if his bones had turned to liquid.

"Do that again," he pleaded breathlessly, followed by a string of words in his own tongue which were so obviously incoherent that she would have smiled had her lips not been otherwise occupied. Instead, she did as he asked and repeated her motion, setting up a tentative rhythm and adding a swirl of her tongue here and there, which each time caused Kíli's hips to buck, no matter how hard he fought to keep still.

She lost herself in the flood of sensation for a bit, the slight ache in her jaw outweighed by the heady rush caused by holding this sort of power over him. So consumed was she by the combination of his scent in her nose and his taste on her tongue that she did not immediately realize when he began to squirm and shift beneath her, not until his hands grasped her elbows and he pulled her up and on top of himself, his lips and tongue immediately seeking out her own.

Tauriel wondered if it was as strange to him to taste himself in their kiss as it had been for her only this very morning, when their roles had been reversed. He did not seem to mind one bit, though, and even deepened their kiss while he flipped them both over, pinning her to the mattress with his weight.

Breaking their kiss, he glanced down to where his thigh was pushing between her legs and licked his lips. "Do you want me to—"

With another kiss, she silenced him and guided one of his hands to where she knew he would find her hot and slick with her need for him. There was only one thing she wanted from him and she wanted it now.

His head fell forward to rest against her collarbone while he stroked her with his fingers, slipping first one and then another inside her. This time it was her who could not help bucking her hips.

"More," she demanded and was, for a moment, nearly bereft when he withdrew his hand. But then she felt him settle between her legs and sink into her inch by glorious inch, filling her in the exact way she wanted to be filled.

Her legs had come up to wrap around his hips even before he began moving, and when he did, she flexed her muscles to pull him deeper yet, wanting more, always more.

"I'm not—this has already—this isn't going to last very long. Or, I'm not going to."

The muscles in Kíli's arms were trembling where he held himself braced above her and when Tauriel raised her somewhat dazed eyes to his face, she found his forehead puckered in a frown of almost tortured concentration, beads of sweat already forming at his temples. She reached up, tucked a damp curl behind his ear.

"You don't have to. We have all night together, don't we?"

That it might be their last night like this, in their own safe—albeit temporary—haven, remained unspoken. And yet her words appeared to do the trick, for Kíli's rigid posture melted away and he was right there with her again, thrusting into her a little too hesitantly at first, but then with increasing speed and just the right amount of pressure to make her dig her fingers into his shoulders a bit more firmly each time, chasing that no longer elusive moment of complete abandon.

And then she was falling and rising up on borrowed wings at the same time, and Kíli was right there with her, gasping sweet words with no particular meaning into her neck as he, too, found his release with a couple of final, stuttering thrusts.

Later, when Tauriel lay with her head pillowed on Kíli's chest, his heartbeat now once again a calm and regular thrumming beneath her ear, she absently ran her fingertips over the tattoo on his ribs, wondering if it was just her imagination, or if she could actually feel the places where his skin had been marked with the characters so foreign to her. Squirming a bit under her touch, Kíli turned on his side to face her and brought her wandering fingers up to his lips, placing feather-light kisses on each pad before entwining them with his own.

"It's a Khuzdûl saying," he said, and Tauriel felt so warm and fuzzy, so happy, that it took her a moment to realize he was talking about his tattoo. "It's a bit difficult to translate, but I believe it comes close to something along the lines of 'Brought together by the same blood, held together by the same spirit'. Fíli's got the same one."

His eyes had taken on a tell-tale gleam during those last words, and Tauriel squeezed their intertwined hands, silently thanking him for telling her, even if raising the topic of his sorely-missed brother brought him pain.

"That seems like something worth putting up with the ordeal of having your skin pierced repeatedly with a sharp needle for," she offered tentatively, hoping it was the right sort of thing to say.

It must have been, for Kíli's answering smile before he leaned down to kiss her was bright enough to chase away the shadows of sadness in his eyes. When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against hers, the hand that wasn't holding hers playing with a strand of her hair. "I'm actually thinking about getting another tattoo, once all this is over."

"You are? I thought you 'couldn't be arsed to sit through all that pain'."

He huffed a laugh at her frankly poor attempt of imitating his sometimes lilting accent. "True," he conceded. "However, I can think of at least one more thing that would be worth enduring all that once again if only it meant that I got to keep it, forever."

His bashful yet unwavering gaze left no doubt as to what—or who, rather—he was referring to and this time it was Tauriel who felt her eyes prickle and her breath catch in her throat.

She raised their joined hands to press a kiss to his knuckles, letting her lips linger while she regained her composure. "Who knows," she said, "perhaps I might even be persuaded to get one of my own."

"Really?" Kíli's eyes widened as they darted over what was visible of her body above the sheet they had tugged haphazardly over themselves as protection against the cool breeze drifting in from the open window. His gaze darkened as he very obviously imagined inked shapes adorning her pale skin, hidden from the world and only for him to see. Tauriel, in turn, shivered with delight as she pulled him on top of her to allow him to explore the places his eyes had just raked over with his hands, his lips.

Forever could not come soon enough.