Smaug's daughter

Arien gets laid

NSFW. 18+ only!

I walked up the path to the platform where his throne was situated, with the grandeur of a Queen, as if I was wearing the finest dress made of the rarest silk, the most expensive heels and jewels that shone like the stars. I pretended as if everyone in this world and the next was beneath me. I envisioned dramatic music accompanied me. Paint It Black by Ciara or Here she comes again by Röyksopp, for example. That would be a good fit. When it came to confidence, faking was always key. You fake it until you make it, and I could not appear weak in front of the king, of this I was sure.

Yet, when I came to a halt on the platform, stopped by the spear held by a soldier standing guard by the staircase to the throne, and I looked up, almost all of my confidence went down the drain. I could practically taste the scent of him on my tongue now. My mouth began watering. I wanted nothing more than lick him. What the fuck was wrong with me? I tried to remember why I was here. To get some dick, sure, but also to get him to release the dwarves!

The throne, which involved its own spiraling steps to the actual seat, was delicately carved out of light wood. Or maybe it had grown that way? Surely he was old enough to have grown it so. The top of the throne was adorned with the biggest fucking set of antlers I had ever seen, or maybe that was carved also? The problem wasn't the throne though, the problem was the person currently sitting, no, lounging upon it. The problem arose when I laid my eyes upon him. It was as if his scent amplified now that I had confirmation it belonged to him.

King Thranduil was wearing a silver outfit with elongated sleeves, a flowy skirt, tight tights, over the knee boots and the longest crimson cape I had ever seen. The rings on his fingers gleamed richly. His cape was draped over the edge of the throne. It was easily twice the size of Thranduil himself and he was no short man. His blonde locks cascaded flawlessly down his shoulders. There was not a single hair astray. On top of his head sat a deadly crown made of sharply twined wood and red flowers. On his face was an amused expression. He was staring right at me.

My proud resolve crumbled completely when our eyes met. I used to think that Thorin's eyes were piercing. But if Thorin's eyes could see through my lies, the outer shell I'd poorly created, then Thranduil's could see every thought I'd ever had and would ever have. I was all but violated by the intensity of his crystal blue eyes. And that wasn't even the worst. The scent of him had already excited me, but now... my mouth felt dry, heat was pooling in my stomach and my nipples were hardening. The hair on my arms was standing straight up, my thighs ached, my teeth were itching. My skin felt hot, way too hot. It was getting difficult to breathe. My heartbeat increased until I could literally feel my pulse, not only in my throat, but also further down. I could feel it in my netherly region and I wasn't even wearing underwear. What the fuck was happening? What was wrong with me? I knew I had the hots for him, but this was pathetic! I swallowed, trying to put some moisture in my mouth, but to no avail. Even though mere seconds had passed since I'd reached the platform, it felt like we had been engrossed in our staring competition for hours. Wasn't he going to say something? Should I say something? I grit my teeth, forcing my facial expressions to remain passive. I didn't want to show my cards, show him how affected I was by his mere presence.

"Leave us." Thranduil finally said, in elvish, to his soldiers. His deep voice shook my bones, I almost moaned at it, but managed to stay quiet, still, unattached, at least on the outside.

He stared at me, I stared at him. I could almost feel how dilated my pupils were, as if my eyes were more pupils than irises. The tension between us was unbearable. I felt sweat trickle down my body, making my shirt stick to my body, my breasts swallowing the fabric of it. My teeth itched for some reason, my skin felt too tight, my temperature hot. Was I sick? I needed... something. It was hard to stand still. Thranduil rose to his feet then, the soldiers gone. There had been a lot more soldiers than I had accounted for when I walked in.