~Legolas and Lasriel explore how much fun being married can be, while Thranduil does his best to hide his secret relationship from Glóin on the journey south.~

~♕~

He's with me, ain't he?
And I'll learn him all I know.

– Baloo, The Jungle Book

~♕~

28. Kisses

The shock of finding his goathouse replaced by a huge, white villa was slowly diminishing and Legolas felt better about the whole thing, deception and all. The quite lovely kisses Lasriel was teaching him helped a great deal; it was hard to be angry with someone who fell around his neck whenever he entered the house, slipping her arms around his waist and pulling his head down for another sensual, toe-curling moment of passion.

Somehow he had started to find many excuses to go home often.

When he wasn't practicing kissing with Lasriel, Legolas spent the following days planting the many new saplings, some in a mellyrn avenue along the road to Osgiliath, others replacing the dead oaks by the river. For the first time he felt certain his work would be fruitful and the young trees becoming rooted, for thanks to the dwarves' hard labor the ground already showed much improvement and the marsh was almost gone.

What still remained on Legolas' to-do list, now that the draining was nearing its completion, was to dig the lake he had planned between the colony and Faramir's summer residence at Emyn Arnen. But for such a big project he believed it would be helpful if both dwarf teams could work together.

When he had explained his plan, the two foremen exchanged frosty looks.

"Work together?" huffed Gimli. "The quality of your lake would suffer for it."

"Indeed, it would," said Cheery Glodson. "Therefore you should only employ my workforce."

"Very funny. I will be dwarf enough to admit your drainage ditches were not a complete disaster, considering your youth and lesser experience, but I don't think our styles would mesh well together."

Glodson smirked under his beard. "If they don't, it must be because my style is so much more effective and better. Like how my well was finished in one day while yours took two, or how every other day you couldn't get your people to work at all because they were hungover."

"Hmpf! A hard-working dwarf needs a cheerful evening once in a while."

"Well, and I am dwarf enough to admit that when your people do work, the result is none too bad," said Glodson generously.

"So, then you will help me with this?" Legolas cut in.

Glodson glanced at Gimli. "I might. For such an old dwarf, you certainly know how to drink, Master Glóinson. Your after work parties seem fun."

Gimli looked a bit surprised. Peering back at Glodson, he replied thoughtfully. "The more, the merrier, I guess." He held out his hand. "Welcome to my team then, laddie."

"No, welcome to my team, old man." Glodson took the offered hand and shook it – rather lengthily.

When Glodson had left them alone a while later, Gimli said in a subdued voice. "Don't tell the lad I said so, but he's one of the fastest diggers I ever saw. And he's a strapping young fellow. I'm almost suspecting... he might be a lass, actually? Very soft beard, he has. I'll get him drunk at the first opportunity and see if I can figure it out."

~♕~

Safely hidden behind a thick tree trunk, Nimrodel and Thranduil were embracing so closely it would have been hard for an onlooker to discern they were actually two people. But of course there were no onlookers; Glóin had a habit of taking a nap for an hour or two each afternoon, and though it made the journey slower it also gave his companions apt opportunities to be together.

There was so much more to kissing than Nimrodel had known. Her loveless marriage had made her believe intimacy was only used to procreate, not for pleasure, but Thranduil was teaching her differently. He was kissing and nipping his way along her neck now, pushing her dress down as he went. Where had he learned how good it felt to be kissed there? He seemed to know her body better than she did herself.

When she was topless, he paused to swiftly take off his tunic before continuing. He reached her breasts and began to caress them with fingers and tongue, making her heart throb and liquid heat erupt in her veins. The breasts were examples of body parts she hadn't known could bring her pleasure, and she had also not known how they could affect an ellon. Just a glimpse of a nipple was enough to turn Thranduil's eyes dark and hungry. It made her feel wanted – and powerful, in a way.

She drew her fingers through his long strands, turning his face up for another deep, needy kiss. The overload of sensations were driving her almost mad with desire: his firm lips moving in synchrony with her own as their tongues intertwined; his masculine scent in her nostrils; the feeling of silky, heated skin against skin.

Pressing herself against his hardness, she wished they could undress completely. She longed for more. But as always that was not to be, rather the opposite; soon there would be no kissing at all. They were nearing Lothlórien, and with the scouts who would be spying on them from every other tree they mustn't share even the swiftest little peck as they passed through.

This could be their last moment together for a while and they were making the most of it.

When Glóin's usual nap time was almost over, Nimrodel reluctantly broke the kiss. Aroused and unsatisfied she lingered in Thranduil's arms, her nose pressed into the nape of his neck as she caught her breath and waited for her heart to slow down. There was no need to speak; it was pointless to say for the hundredth time how much she regretted they must stop, and how she wished they had married each other instead all those centuries ago. Thranduil already knew. He felt the same.

She hindered him when he was about to put his tunic back on. "Let me look at you first."

He gave her a knowing smile, and as she studied every inch of his muscular arms, wide shoulders, smooth chest and flat stomach, adding to her mental library of Thranduil images to keep her through the days of abstaining, she felt him scrutinizing herself in a similar way.

"I wish I could look at you forever," he sighed as he helped button up the back of her dress, giving her a light peck at the edge of the neckline.

"And I wish I could let you." She turned around, slipping her arms around him and leaning her head against his chest.

A short while later, Glóin's voice from the other side of the tree made them guiltily jump apart.

"Oy! Where are you?"

"Coming!"

In the evening they saw the golden forest in the distance. This time of year the color was not from mallorn leaves but myriads of soft flowers, and as they got closer, treading the carpet of fallen leaves and drawing in the fragrance of the blossoms, Nimrodel felt tears well up in her eyes. "Oh, how I have missed Lothlórien in spring."

Thranduil put his arm around her shoulder. "I am so sorry you were sent away."

Glóin gave them a curious look. "Sent away? Why?"

Thranduil lowered his voice. "The trees have ears. I will tell you another time."

He had hardly stopped whispering when the owner of said ears dropped from a gnarly willow that leaned its branches over the river. "Who are you, and why have you brought a dwarf into this forest?" he said accusatively in a Silvan accent. Like Thranduil he had fair hair and dark eyebrows, and the latter were drawn together in an angry frown at Glóin.

Thranduil returned the frown with one of his formidable glares. "We are only passing through. I am on my way to visit my son Legolas in Ithilien."

The elf blanched visibly. "My apologies, Lord Thranduil. I did not recognize you, but I know your son fairly well. I am Haldir, a marchwarden of these parts." He bowed politely. "I am certain my mistress desires to talk to you. Please allow me to escort you to Caras Galadhon."

Upon hearing the ellon's name, Nimrodel had to force herself to remain calm. She had met Haldir once before, when he was only a baby, and knew his mother well. They must not go to the city, and she gave Thranduil's arm a slight press to convey that message.

He responded with a subtle nod. "I am afraid we have been long on the road and yearn to get to the new Ithilien colony. Give my regards to the fair Lady of Lórien and her husband."

"I understand. Your son was recently here to purchase more trees, and he hired more workers, so I dare say you will be pleased with his progress when you get there. The workers left by boat only a couple of days ago; if you hurry you will catch up with them."

"Ah, if the Valar blesses us with speed, maybe we shall." Thranduil bowed. "Námarië!"

When the marchwarden was out of hearing range, Thranduil murmured to Nimrodel: "It is a blessing we have such a slow companion; now there is no risk we are overtaking those workers."

She returned his sly grin. "Ah, and then we shall keep our privacy. I like the way you are thinking."

"We have left the elves' realm now," said Glóin suddenly, interrupting their whispered conversation. "Now I want all the juicy gossip. Why was Thuriniel sent away from there, and does it have anything to do with the fact that you guys are smooching behind my back at every opportunity?"

~♕~

Tired and dirty, Lasriel entered her new house, wiping her feet on the rug by the door. She went directly to the bathroom, drawing herself a scented bath.

Everybody in the colony suddenly wanted brick houses, and recently her days and evenings had been filled with work. She went from one building site to the other, instructing the foresters and guards first how to make bricks and then how to use them. But despite how busy she was, she paid attention to the time, for whenever Legolas returned home for his meals whe wanted to be there to share them with him. And of course, give him a kiss or two. Most of the times one thing would then lead to another, until they ended up in either his bedroom or hers.

It was almost uncanny how different their marriage had become, seemingly overnight. Legolas must enjoy being with her, or why else did he come home so often? And not once had he complained that she wore worker clothes and had mud in her hair.

Still, Lasriel couldn't help worrying that it was too good to be true; that the new bliss wouldn't last. But until then, she meant to make the most of it and fill her mind with pleasant memories to go back to when or if things returned to the way they were before.

When the water was steaming hot, Lasriel lowered herself into it with a contented sigh.

She heard the front door shut and smiled to herself when Legolas' steps hurried directly to where she was.

He knocked. "May I come in?"

"Aye, if you don't mind seeing some nudity."

His head poked through. "Absolutely not." He gave her a hungry look. "I'm muddy from today's work. Got room for one more in there?"

They spent a lot of the time in the bath kissing, and then helped wash each other. Instead of becoming relaxed by Legolas' soft touch, it made Lasriel invigorated – and excited.

"I am tired," she lied when she emptied the bath. "Shall we go to bed now?"

"Good idea." He pulled her in for another kiss but broke it almost at once as he unexpectedly picked her up.

Giggling, Lasriel threw her arms around his neck. "What are you doing?"

"Carrying you upstairs. You said you were tired."

When they reached his bedroom, he put her down on the bed and stretched out on top of her to resume the kiss. She slid her arms around him so she could stroke his back. Ever since the first time they bathed together, Legolas would undress before the act, and Lasriel loved being able to feel his soft skin over the hard planes of his body.

Still with their lips joined, Legolas began to move. She arched her back so she could meet his thrusts, breathing fast against his mouth as pleasure built.

When he had finished, he didn't pull away directly. "Can you stay here a little?" he asked instead.

"Of course." She smiled, pleasantly surprised. "Actually..." She hesitated.

"Hm?"

"I have been meaning to ask why we can't sleep in the same room?"

"Well, husbands and wives don't normally share a bedroom... at least my parents didn't. Did yours?"

"Nay, but we are not them. And," she added shrewdly, "it would make it easier if we wanted to spend time together in the mornings too."

From the interested gleam in his eyes, she knew before he replied that that prospect had won him over. "True. We don't have to do everything the same way as our parents did. I shall get your bed directly!"

While he was gone, Lasriel thought briefly about their parents and how she definitely didn't want to do things their way... such as being unfaithful and moving apart. But of course, he didn't know that – yet. And now when everything was so good between them it was a terrible time to tell him the secret.

Legolas put her bed next to his, and after some shifting of the sheets it became almost like the big four poster one at the Minas Tirith guesthouse. Lasriel made a mental note to find an extra large mattress to put on top to get rid of the gap in the middle.

When all was finished, he crawled close to her, spooning her with his body. "This was a brilliant idea," he mumbled into her hair.

"I know." She tried not to sound too smug.

His warm form along her back and his arm around her was comforting, and at first it made her drowsy. But then she recalled a page in the Haradrim book where the couple made love that way – with the man behind the woman. It had been one of the more daring pictures and she had been too embarrassed to translate the text.

She got a sudden, irresistible urge to read more about it.

Legolas' breaths were calm and even; he must be asleep. It should be safe.

Sneaking a hand under the mattress, she found the square item and pulled it out. Then she eagerly flicked the pages until she found the correct one. 

When a woman stands on her hands and feet like a four-legged animal and her lover mounts her like a bull, it is called the 'congress of a cow', she read. After translating the chapter about kisses she no longer needed the Haradrim-Westron dictionary to understand the text. 

More instructions followed, such as using pillows under the woman for support, and how the man could caress her to bring her pleasure. Heat pooled within her at the thought of doing it like that. They must try sometime.

If only she could bring herself to suggest it without dying from embarrassment...

"What are you reading?" mumbled Legolas sleepily.

She flinched guiltily, closing the book with a snap. Damn!

A/N:

Sorry I am late with the chapter again, but summertime means lots of distracting stuff happening and hence new chapters will probably be added a bit more sporadic for a while.

Thanks for the response to the last chapter! I'm lucky to have such supportive readers. xx