With You

Chapter 17

A/N: I took some liberties with elven lore here. I don't think it's terribly outside the realm of possibility, but I thought I would acknowledge it.

For a few hours, Thranduil stared at the sky, idly observing the clouds as he enjoyed the weight and warmth of his fiance on his chest. After these last few days of unexpected stress, it cheered him up to spend time alone with her. He breathed in deeply, enjoying the scent of the forest on the breeze while idly running his fingers through her hair. It was comforting to think that they were set to enjoy moments like this for the rest of forever.

Unfortunately, his mind did not stay calm for as long as he had hoped. He began thinking of the feast later that night, and the wedding in a year. It was due to be a large undertaking, and he needed to discuss her preferences for decorations and color schemes. It also occurred to him that he needed to begin writing his vows as soon as he had a moment alone. It disquieted him to think that she had brought up an heir before he had that thought himself. She would obviously be a marvelous mother, of that he had no doubt. But he had never had occasion to read about... the act of creating heirs before. He made a mental note to bring up the subject with Oropher, which he prayed would not be as awkward as he was expecting.

His left hand rubbed her back, as the tactile pleasure of tracing her spine calmed him. Whatever may come in the future, they would face it together. The wine they had drunk was now fully taking effect, because now all he could think about was finishing kissing her as deeply as he could, as they had been interrupted earlier.

Giving into his urges, he very suddenly flipped them. His left arm held his weight over her while his right hand slipped from her hair to cup her face. Her face was startled for a moment, before smiling up at him, with her golden hair pooled around her. With her hands reaching up to rest on the back of his neck, his hair fell and formed a silver curtain around their faces. He stared into her brilliant hazel eyes and felt a powerful wave of love for her. It was his deepest hope that he would remember this moment for the rest of his days.

When she whispered that she loved him, so softly it could have been the wind, he was undone. He never felt true desire for anyone or anything like he had for her as he kissed her fiercely. He wasn't sure about anything of a sexual nature, but he knew he wanted to tuck her deeply inside his heart where he could protect and care for her without any fear that he might lose her. His slightly drunken mind was full of her, her scent, her taste, her breath, the feel of her chest against his, her weight pulling him to her. In that moment, she was the only thing he was aware of, and his heart was full. He felt the strong desire to forgo all traditions and simply wed her right then and there. Married soldiers and captains had explained the cosmically soul filling nature of the marriage bond, feeling their mates in their mind with little effort. He desired this for them very deeply, and the thought of it intensified his kiss, as if he were trying to feel her soul bind with his unconsciously.

His left arm, shook for a moment, then bent to allow more of his weight to fall on her as it slid beneath her shoulders to hold her more tightly. Her hands slid further up into his hair and he was delighted to feel her fingers press on the back of his skull, trying to pull him even closer. His desire was nearly all consuming and overwhelming, burning deep in his heart and stomach. Perhaps it was the wine, or maybe the knowledge that she was soon to be his wife that stoked the fires.

Simply on instinct, his right hand slid from her face while they continued to kiss fiercely. His fingertips gently traced the length of her neck, enjoying the thrill of pleasure that zinged through him. He never really allowed himself the time to appreciate how very soft her skin was. Letting his fingers glide across her clavicle and gently grasp her shoulder to lift her more closely into him. He vaguely worried he was hurting her, so he released his grip to trace down the fabric covering her arm to her side, landing his hand squarely on her hip. The warmth from her skin seeped through the cloth of her soft white skirt.