~Lasriel gets another scolding but also a soft caress. Back in Greenwood Thuriniel and Thranduil has a tent tête-à-tête.~

~♕~

"Being brave doesn't mean
you go looking for trouble."

– Mufasa, The Lion King

~♕~

18. Braids

Lasriel had expected to be yelled at and reprimanded by Legolas on his return that evening, but despite his grim face he didn't say one word. He just silently went to wash himself and change clothes before stiffly sitting down to dinner, fingers clutching the eating knife like he wanted to stab something other than the food with it.

They ate in silence, the most horrible kind, teeming with unsaid words. Lasriel's mouth was so dry she could hardly swallow the food.

"I'm sorry," she blurted at last, unable to stand the sullen silence any longer. "I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of your friends. I should have chosen another day."

"Another day!" His head whipped up. "As if that–" He cut off his words abruptly and took a deep breath.

When he began again his voice was less agitated – but no less angry. "Not long ago we killed a pack of wild wargs at the Cross-roads. Was I happy to find my wife in a tree, dressed in mudstained ellyn's clothes? Nay, but at least I found you there alive. You could have been killed. Devoured by a wild beast and lost without a trace." He tiredly rubbed his forehead. "I told you you couldn't come. I told you it's not safe."

Lasriel bit her lip to refrain from crying again. Wargs... She had never seen one but knew they were twice as big as wolves and probably five times as ferocious. When she left the colony her own safety had never crossed her mind at all.

She wanted to explain that but as usual nothing came out. Not when Legolas was staring at her like that, eyes full of affronted reproach.

"What were you doing out there?"

"I just wanted to climb trees," she mumbled unsteadily.

He narrowed his eyes and his voice turned silky. "Climb trees. Right. Just like you were 'out' and not in Osgiliath the other day?"

"Well, I..." Her voice faltered.

"Why do you make me worry over you? I have enough to worry about as it is."

Again she found no reply and she turned her gaze down. If he had not sounded so angry his concern might have soothed her, but somehow she found it hard to believe he had truly worried. Was this not just his need to control her? She never asked where he was, why must he know wherever she went? Osgiliath was hardly a dangerous place. There were people everywhere to chase away potential monsters.

Legolas was not done. He abruptly left the table, walking around the confined room as he continued what had now turned into a veritable scolding. "And what are you even wearing? Look at you, mud all over, and not to mention your hair... a disaster. Why aren't you like other ladies? You embarrass me in front of Faramir and his men. Why can't you put on a dress and wear your hair like his wife does? Like their wives do?"

"I-I-I didn't know I would meet them. I was working to cure the plants. I'm sorry." She wiped away her tears.

"I work with plants too and I take care of my hair. We are elves! Being neat and beautiful is what we are known for, you know." He must have realized how that sounded for then he added with a snort: "Damn, I never thought I would sound as conceited as Adar but here we are."

His sardonic tone made her breathe a little easier; part of his anger seemed to have passed. "I would braid my hair if I could," she said.

"But you had beautiful braids at our wedding?"

"Naneth did them."

"Then learn to do it yourself; I'm sure you can find a book about braiding."

Her lip began to tremble again at his condescending tone. What was wrong with learning things from books?

"I'm sorry. That was mean." Features softening, he took a step closer. "Do you want me to show you how?"

She nodded mutely, because if she had said anything she would start crying for real.

"I'm sorry," he said again, steering her to sit on the cushion by the fireplace while he kneeled behind her. "I didn't mean to make you upset, I just... I really need those humans to think well of me. Of us, of our project here."

"I'm sorry too. I won't go there again."

"Thank you." He pressed her shoulder briefly as if to say he accepted the apology. Then he began to comb her hair, gently working through the knots.

She closed her eyes, gradually relaxing. His movements were so soft, and his voice as well when he started to plait her hair and explained what he was doing. Why couldn't he always be like this? Kind and attentive rather than brooding or cross.

"So, um, that clay on the pine saplings was your doing then?" he asked while he worked.

"Aye."

"Faramir liked the idea, and since clay is free we decided to try that method first."

"I hope it works then."

She supposed this was his way of thanking her for her help without outright saying so, and she figured she probably should be glad he hadn't dismissed it altogether just because she came up with it.

Legolas had finished the braids but made no move to leave, instead he continued to slowly run his fingers through her hair. The ambience was gradually changing into something else. Something charged.

She felt his body heat as he inched closer and he was breathing faster than before. Had it been a scene in the "Gone With the Elf" book, this would have been when the handsome prince turned the heroine's face to him so he could kiss her passionately.

The thought of kissing Legolas made Lasriel's heartbeat quicken.

"Beautiful," he mumbled, trailing a finger along one of the braids. The touch sent a chill down her spine.

Did he mean the braid was beautiful? Or her hair? Her person?? She wished she knew.

"Are you tired?" There was no mistaking what he was really asking.

"Nay."

Not long afterwards he joined her in bed, but instead of beginning the act directly he rested over her, again stroking her hair that spilled over the pillow. He put his nose against it and drew a deep breath.

His scent filled her nostrils too. He was so close, heavy but not too heavy. His strong frame enveloped her.

For the first time she longed for him to begin. To be as near her as it was possible for an elf to be.

She pushed her core against his hardness, sneaking a hand under his shirt to caress his bare skin.

Still with his nose buried in her hair, he slid into her with no resistance, for unlike previous times her body seemed to welcome him now. It didn't feel strange or painful. It felt good.

Raising her hips, she met his thrusts and the angle gave her a jolt of pleasure with each stroke.

When he froze over her and finished, she felt an odd emptiness as he slipped out. She wouldn't have minded to continue longer.

Legolas looked at her with a strangely sad expression. Or remorseful?

"I'm sorry... Goodnight." He planted a light kiss on her cheek before leaving.

She wondered what he apologized for. The quarrel before? But it didn't matter. She recalled the feeling of his fingers in her hair and how she had responded. How she had longed to begin and how good it had felt when he did. Why had this time been so different?

She really must get that Haradrim book and learn more.

~♕~

Winter was coming. Naked branches met each other above Thuriniel where she rode along the elf-path, forming a scarce canopy. On her side Thranduil towered astride his huge elk and behind them a small group of guards and servants followed on the narrow track.

Thranduil had decided to rebuild the bridge over the Old Ford and invited her to see the area and come up with ideas for its design. It would only be a few days' journey, but for Thuriniel who so seldom had traveled anywhere the past centuries it was a huge deal. She had hesitated for days before she accepted the invitation, and even then it had taken some persuasion on Thranduil's part until she finally made up her mind completely.

Now that she was here she was glad she came. The company was small, nothing like the crowds of the city, and the wintry forest beautiful. She spotted kinds of trees she hadn't seen in ages.

When they stopped for the evening the servants elected several airy pavilions for them to sleep in and they all shared a delicious meal with warm, spiced wine in Thranduil's pavilion that was the largest one.

When the sounds of the forest lulled Thuriniel to sleep much later she again felt happy she had agreed to join him. Traveling was much nicer than she remembered.

They rode at a slow pace so it took a few days to reach the river crossing, days spent in the same comfortable way as the first one.

When they arrived, Thuriniel felt a pang of grief to see the place where she had been at so many nice outings in the past. Back when her family was still complete, and Thranduil's too.

The remnants of the broken bridge saddened her as well, but that at least would change now.

"It was such a beautiful bridge." She stroked a lone pillar that had been part of the railing, following its pattern with a finger. It was elegant in its simplicity; the dwarves who made it had let the natural beauty of the stone speak for itself.

"Indeed." Thranduil looked wistful. He probably thought about their happy picnics too, and his long lost best friend.

"It is almost a shame you cannot hire dwarves to build the new bridge too."

"Hm. It is. But perhaps I could? There are plenty of dwarves in Lake-town, and even more in Dale. Much as I despise that race I suppose I could let them work for me if it meant the bridge would be restored to its former glory."

"That would be lovely." She beamed at him and his warm answering smile made her knees go weak.

The way he affected her these days was another reason she had hesitated to come. It was increasingly hard to keep her fingers – or lips – off him...

They camped by the river that night. During the dinner in his pavilion, Thranduil tried to draw the bridge the way it had looked, and Thuriniel helped him fill in some more details she remembered. They were alone; the servants and guards had decided to barbeque under the stars, but Thuriniel preferred the warmth of a tent. Especially one as well furnished as Thranduil's, with a portable stove, thick carpets and several folding chairs.

That they would get to be alone together had nothing to do with her choice, she told herself.

The tent was lit by a single oil lamp on the folding table. Thuriniel leaned over it, pointing out a missed detail on the bridge sketch. "I think there was a border there with some sort of angular pattern... dwarf runes, maybe?"

"I would prefer it if it were elvish runes, or a nondescript geometric pattern. If the dwarves are allowed to carve messages in their own language there is no knowing what they would write."

Thuriniel put a hand over her mouth to hide a smirk. "I bet the old message was 'elves suck'."

"Very likely," Thranduil deadpanned.

He turned back to the paper, filling in the shadows under the arched pillars. He was an exceptional artist, able to make the past come alive with just a few strokes of charcoal.

While he worked his hair fell into his eyes, getting caught in his long lashes, and without thinking Thuriniel reached out to push it behind his ear. "That looks uncomfortable. Shall I braid it back for you?"

He looked up, meeting her gaze. They sat so close she could see the darker ring around his pale blue irises.

"Aye. Thank you."

Standing behind him, she took a blond strand and started to plait. His hair was straighter than her daughter's, a silky caress against her fingers. The rich, spicy scent of his soap wafted to her nostrils and she suppressed an urge to bury her nose in it.

When she had finished she noticed how tense his shoulders were, and that his fingers holding the charcoal nearly were crushing it.

Against her better judgment she moved her hands lower, gently kneading his shoulders. "Relax," she murmured.

He drew in a quick breath and turned to pull her onto his lap so swiftly she hardly knew what was happening.

Then his lips claimed hers and she melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and tilting her head for better reach. This felt so good, so right, like their lips were made for each other.

Her pulse was a loud roar in her ears. She knew she had to stop. She knew that though this felt right, it really wasn't. She knew Thranduil already had a wife and she had a husband, both of them waiting for their spouses in Aman.

Yet she continued.

She felt his tongue against her lower lip, gentle despite the intensity of his embrace. As if asking for permission.

Currents of desire erupted in her as she opened her mouth to let him in, deepening the kiss.

For the first time in centuries – no, for the first time period – she longed to get rid of all her clothes and make passionate love. To lie with him right there on the soft carpet, feeling his naked skin against her own and see his eyes reflect the mellow light as their coupling reached climax.

His hands roamed her back and she let her own do the same, sliding them across the smooth silk of his tunic, reveling in the feeling of his muscles moving underneath.

He cupped one of her breasts over her dress, his large hand covering it entirely as he ran his thumb over her nipple, making her gasp in a mingle of surprise and pleasure. Nobody had ever touched her like that.

She moved a leg so she could straddle his lap on the folding chair, ignoring that her dress slid up and exposed her legs to the knees. He groaned, pulling her down against his hardness with a hand on her hip and the other bundling her skirts further to caress her bare thigh.

Music from outside began to drift through the pavilion. Someone had brought a flute and several elves started to sing a merry song.

Reminded that though they were secluded by canvas walls, they were not actually alone, Thuriniel pulled back slightly and broke the kiss. Her lips felt raw.

Their gazes met. Thranduil's eyes were so full of longing it nearly broke her heart.

He softly wiped off a tear that trickled down her cheek.

"I should go," she said reluctantly. But before she went she could not resist another kiss, a soft peck on his lips before she hastened to her own pavilion with her head in a turmoil.

A/N:

Love can hurt. :(

Thank you for your amazing comments that encourage me to continue with this!