A Fly on the Wall

A Match in Spirit

                *** An intimate little snapshot of Thranduil and his beloved before they were wed.***

She smiled at me--a glance from the side--then turned again to her sisters. It was the smallest of gestures, but in it was a hint of tormenting promise. She had a way of drawing desire with that smile. It was sweetness, yes, but always something deeper. 

Having kissed her before, I knew there was more to her than the naivety of a fair elven maid. She was pure light, with a strong touch of fire. I was needful to be alone with her again, if only to taste her for one moment. 

We were betrothed.

It had begun as a suggestion from her kin to me, but it did not take long for me to embrace the idea enthusiastically. It began the moment she smiled at me--in that very same way she had done just this moment. A smile had led to a conversation, then another, and another, and before long I could not bear to be parted from her. The sun did not rise until I saw her face. The nights drew on eternally when she was not there.

I caught her eye again, but this time, I nodded to the trees, and then took to the path leading into the Greenwood, aching that she should follow.

Not long into the trees, I caught the smell of something sweet--a breeze of flowers. It was her smell. I stopped, but did not turn around, only waited, pleased and excited. "You came."

"I could not resist," answered her voice from behind me. Then she rounded where I was to stand in front of me. "Alone in the woods with a powerful king...I should be intimidated."

"Are you?" I said, amused, and stepped close to touch her face. 

"I should be. They say I ought to be. But no, Thranduil. I am not."

"Then tell me. What are you?" 

Her smile faded, and her face went serious, but her eyes softened and shone. "In love."

Heat and static together coursed from the air around me and through my very skin. I was going to kiss her. A raging storm could not stop me.

She lifted her soft hand, and held my own face, then she brushed my bottom lip with her thumb and I shook with it. "Nenluin.." I took her in my arms at once and tasted her with more passion than was, perhaps, proprietous for a couple yet to be wed. But I hungered for her, and it was her response that fed that hunger. She parted her lips, seeking depth, her tender tongue tasting my own and seeking more...more...

I wrapped my hand in her hair and held her to me with not a whisper of space to spare, enjoying the way her fingers clutched at my robes as if to tear them. Her whimpers, her wildly beating heart...this was the fire I knew, the passion that could meet my own. A match in spirit. And when finally we were wed, I would make her entirely mine and we would be one. I would command her fire to rage and burn us both to oblivion.

"I will go mad," I said, breathing heavily against her jaw, her neck. "I cannot get enough of you. I would consume you."

Nipping at my lip, she kissed me again without a word, then broke from me and nuzzled her sweet nose against mine, laughing softly. "My blood burns in my veins when I am with you. I cannot see, nor feel a thing but this. It is impossible to remain on task."

"Good. I would distract you as often as possible, for I can think of no greater pleasure."

Then she raised an eyebrow. "No greater pleasure?"

I widened my own eyes at her boldness, tilting my head with a teasing grin. "I do not begin to know what you are suggesting."

She only laughed, then took my hand and pulled me down the forest path. I followed her. I followed NO one, but I would follow her.