Chapter 1
“But he’s wonderfully handsome, what reservations could you possibly still have?”
In my rooms, my sister makes her case, to have me married within the week, to Legolas, the Elven Prince of Mirkwood. He is as she says, beautiful as all elves are, and how I wish, that he wasn’t, then all of this would be easier.
A handsome face isn’t lost on me, but his father... King of the Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood, now that’s a very large title, and the man that carries it, is great indeed!
The silent strength emanating from him, makes me hotter than an elvish summer. Fair haired, icy blue eyes, and a regal bearing, the thought of those large hands of his on my body, sends a delightful quiver through me.
“Is he in love with another?”
“I don’t know, I rarely see him, as he’s always off on some adventure, you know how the young ones are.”
“Don’t pretend that daring exploits, and mischief are foreign to you. How many times, did father have to send the guards to find you, after you’d run off with some young gentleman caller?”
“Too many times.” I state, laughing at the memories.
“Your lips should have been raised in a kiss, but instead your sword was, in challenges to your would be husbands.”
A playful pull on my hair, and she commences with her brushing of it.
“And I forget his name, but not the time that the guards, intruded upon your marriage ceremony, to that marchwarden of Lothlórien.” She adds.
“Haldir...” Memories of him, brings a loving smile to my face.
“I’d never seen father so furious.”
“I received a month in the dungeons, for that one.”
“Oh sister... what am I to do with you? He cannot be that bad...”
“It’s nothing to do with him.”
“Then what is it?”
I’d never admitted it to anyone, I’d held my secret in silence, but as the day draws nearer to my union with Legolas, I can’t go through with it. It must be made known, I love another...
“Why would I want the son, when I could have the father.”
“Now I know that you’ve lost your wits... Thranduil?”
“Is there something wrong with him? What woman wouldn’t want him as a husband, are you blind?”
“Don’t take that tone with me, Sarya Imryll Norvalur!”
Well she must be mad...
“He’s the King, it’s a insult to barter me to the son, when it’s the unwed father with all the power.”
“Oh... you’ve always reached too high.”
“Too high, just because you settled for the second son, with no title and...”
A slap, loud and stinging shuts me up. Cradling the spot, where her palm landed, we’re both in a state of shock.
Her... breathing deeply, to control her anger, and me... well... I’m just surprised, she’s never laid a hand on me.
“I want to return home, to the second son... my husband, and I can’t do so with news of you wishing, for something that will never happen.”
“You act as if what I ask for, is unable to be attained.”
“The king is still in love with his wife, his light will dim, and fade with him, alone. It’s what he wants, and he’s unable to be moved from his plan.”
“I know what I want, and it’s him.” I state, saving my hair from her vicious brushing.
“You’re not the first to fall for the King of Mirkwood, sister. You know fathers anger, and his wrath.”
All too well...
“Turn your attentions to the Prince, share in his adventures, it’s what you crave. And even if the king did accept you, you know that you wouldn’t want to spend your days, in this prison cell.”
“You’re right, I’ve always had a love for hazardous activities.” Sharing a laugh, her hands return to my hair, braiding it.
“But I would give it all up, to remain here... with him, in this palace that you call a prison, by his side till the end of my days.”
Her gaze meeting mine in the mirror, she offers a small smile in resignation.
“Then you must truly be in love, and I’m happy for you sister, and saddened also, as you’ll not get what you want.”
The king’s ordered that the palace is to be closed off to the world, no one enters and no one leaves. Except him, his son, and the army...
In the gardens, a marble pavilion surrounded by the wonders of nature, I’m in awe of the heaven, that the king has made for his people.
It stretches for miles, trees and flowers of every species. Even some of the exotic magical ones of my people, the dark elves.
I sense his approach, before I hear him. It’s the king himself, robed and drawing nearer. His aura... my heart quickens, and a warmth spreads below, when he speaks.
“We go to war with the dwarves of Erebor.”
“I’d heard... seems unfair to take something that you’ve never had a claim to.” I reply, finally facing him.
“I don’t want their kingdom, I have my own.”
“So it is true then... you’ll spill blood for the white gems of Lasgalen, a necklace that you had commissioned, for your wife long ago.”
“The queens gems, they belong to us, to her memory.”
His words of affection for his wife, pulls at my heart, makes me jealous. If only I could have a love like his...
“And why do you seek my audience?” I state, visibly upset and pained, although trying to hide it.
“I ask for your approval.”
“You don’t need it.” I advise, confused.
“But I seek it, you’re to be Queen of Mirkwood, one day, your support in matters such as this, is desired.”
I don’t know how to respond, a war over Jewels is foolish if you ask me, but lives have been sacrificed over lesser materials than gems.
“If those gems are worth lives being ended, then...”
“You would understand, if you’ve ever truly loved someone, and besides... it’s the principle of the matter.” His cold calculating stare, and bold statement, causes a fluttering within my belly.
“Those greedy thieving dwarves, stole them. They’ll return the gems or I’ll remove every one of their heads to get them back.” I hate to say it, but a part of me is turned on by his hate filled passion.
“If they mean so much to you, then I agree, war is warranted.” I say quietly, as the loud rhythmic thumping beating between my thighs, has my full attention.
“Lord Legolas.” An announcement, that follows a few brisk knocks on my door.
“Come in.” I answer.
My sister may be right, King Thranduil is not to be had. He’s not shown an ounce of interest in me, never looked upon me with much more than a nod in acknowledgement.
He’d gone to war with the dwarves, and I’d waited with barely concealed patience, for his return.
I had hoped that it was him at my door, wishful thinking at it’s best.
“Sarya...?”
“I’m in here.”
His appearance unsettles me, temporarily. Light haired, like his father, and an ethereal beauty.
Unclothed in a bath, his back is immediately turned to me. I wonder if the father, has such modest reservations.
“I would like to have you, see me off.”
“The war has been ongoing for days, where were you?
“Attending to other matters. If you would please join me, I can’t linger for to long.”
Exiting the bath, an attendant helps me into a robe.
“Then I shouldn’t keep you, from your task.”
Bowing to him, the robe’s undone, and opens to fully expose my breasts.
The light silken material brushing against the peaks, arouses a sexual need.
His hand in mine, he pulls me to my feet. “When I return, we’ll marry.”
His lips gently touching my hand, doesn’t have the expected results.
There’s no rapid beating of my heart, no soft intake of breath, no desire to feel his lips on mine.
“As you wish.” Is all that I can manage.
What do I wish... I wish to be in his fathers bed, in his arms. His pale golden head between my thighs, calling out his name, as he drinks from the essence of my femininity.
That’s what I want..
The war’s over with, at last... and preparations are being made for the celebration.
Dressing, to receive the king and his army, I’m resigned to my fate.
I’ll marry the prince, and bear his children. Dismissing the helpers, I admire the reflection looking back at me.
Sepia colored skin tone, long dark tresses, and eyes the color of the darkest night.
“Beautiful...”
His deep baritone, startles me.
“My king, I didn’t know that you’d returned.”
I didn’t even hear the horns, annouce his homecoming.
“I have something for you.” He says, drawing nearer.
Watching his advancement, through my mirror, every step accelerates my heart beat.
“A wedding gift.”
I have to catch my breath, at the sight of the jewels, dangling from his hand.
Beautiful white gems, and fastening the jewelry around my neck, my hand shakes as I finger the treasure.
“I want you to wear them, on your wedding day.”
Enthralled by the sparkling jewels, I can only nod in agreeance.
“And nothing but them, on your wedding night.”
My gaze locking with his in the mirror, he’s watching me intently, as if to gauge my thoughts.
“Its beautiful, but it’s too generous.”
“What’s mine is yours... if you will have me.”
Where is this coming from? I must not have heard him correctly.
“And how fares my betrothed?”
“He’s gone...”
My sister’s going to have a fit...
“And when will he return?”
“Not anytime soon.”
Abandoned...
“I don’t understand...”
Legolas has gone, to seek his own path, and now it falls upon me to marry you.
I want to jump up and down with glee, but his choice of words smothers my excitement.
“You’re marrying me, because duty demands it.”
“My alliance with your father, demands it.”
I want him, but not without love.
“Then I don’t accept you, but I will keep these.” I state, toying with the gems, as I march past him, to join the others in the festivities.
