MATURE ✨
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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔 - 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚. '𝑻𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍.
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A knock came at Faeriel's door not long after she awoke on her second day. She had spent the morning musing about her possible twin and daydreaming of Legolas. Faeriel opened the door and smiled shyly at the elleth standing there. She wore a gown of shimmering frost silver satin that complimented her dark hair and light grey eyes beautifully.
"My lady," the elleth smiled, "I am Liannë. I am come to fit you for new garments and see what you might require."
"Oh?" Faeriel already had two outfits, but she felt it would be churlish to refuse such an offer. Besides, her clothing had seen better days. Given the magnificence of the elves' raiment, it would help her blend in better if she had a crisp new set. She had received many stares thus far, and being the center of attention made her squirm.
With a long red ribbon, Liannë deftly measured her height, shoulders, hips, waist, the length of her arms, and her bust, making notations upon a scroll. Faeriel blushed, feeling a little self conscious.
The lady was friendly, chatting a bit as she went. Faeriel learned that Liannë was an apprentice and her family were all cloth makers. Liannë asked what other supplies Faeriel needed, but she could not think of anything to request.
Not long after Liannë departed, another elf arrived bearing a fresh tray of food. Faeriel thanked him profusely, feeling very grateful though a bit overwhelmed by all the attention.
Once they were alone again, she brought the tray to the bed, folded her legs under her and had a feast of fruits with Rusco, who regaled her with the epic tale of his morning explorations in the gardens.
Energized, Rusco soon bounded out again. Faeriel could not resist a morning soak in the hot spring even though she needed it not. It was purely for pleasure, and she had more of it than expected, for those breathless new sensations filled her with every thought of Legolas and his tender touches.
One hour after her bath another knock came. Faeriel was out on the balcony enjoying a ray of sun, and eagerly she skipped to the door, hoping it was Legolas. But it was Liannë once more. Faeriel greeted the elleth as she entered the room with a neat swathe of different colored fabrics draped over her arms. Faeriel could see a muted grey-blue velvet, a deep blue velvet, a burgundy red, and a gossamer white.
"We have altered these gowns to fit you my lady," Liannë told her. "One dressing gown, two for daytime, and a cloak. We shall begin work on other sets for you. What are your colors and styles of preference?"
Faeriel gaped. Liannë crossed to the armoire and Faeriel followed, watching as she opened it and began hanging the gowns inside. They were too fine, with satin ribbons at the backs and intricate embroidery on the elegant necklines and sweeping bell sleeves. She reached out to touch the velvet, shocked at its supple softness. She had never had a proper gown before, only a nightgown.
"Oh, my...But these are...more than enough..."
"My lady, we are to make you several more, and new travel tunics and slacks, at least twelve outfits in sum—"
"Oh—Oh my! You need not go to all that trouble! Maybe one pair of slacks and a tunic, as mine are worn, but—"
Liannë held up her hand, a kindly smile gracing her features. "The Prince has asked it, and we have already begun. The moss is being spun as we speak, and the mushrooms textured for the slacks. What hues are your preference?"
Faeriel glanced at the gowns in the closet, then down at her worn olive green tunic and dark leggings. "These...the hues of earth and leaf, of stone and sky......though any are just fine..." she offered. "But—"
"Lovely, my lady, We shall make you dresses in such tones. They shall go quite splendidly with your eyes. And with your leave, I shall choose colors to compliment your hair as well. It's such a beautiful auburn." Liannë gave her a small smile and bowed, leaving before Faeriel could further object.
Twelve outfits?! It boggled her mind. She turned the hanging gowns this way and that. The muted grey-blue gown had long slim sleeves, above which floated a gossamer silver fabric that trailed elegantly down the sides. Legolas was so generous... First this fancy room, then this fancy garb? Faeriel felt flustered.
But she was curious, so she donned the dusty blue gown. The soft, luxurious fabric was slightly stretchy, thankfully. Faeriel smiled at her reflection in the looking glass. The velvet hugged her arms and waist and the gossamer adornments draped elegantly from her shoulders like folded fairy wings. Faeriel rose onto her toes and twirled, the sheer fabric floating gracefully around her in the breeze of her dance.
She supposed her form was beautiful, if such opinions were up to her, even though she didn't resemble the other ladies. This gown accentuated those round, full parts of her. She was about to change out of it when, for the third time that day, she heard the approach of a visitor. These footsteps she recognized. Her heart began to sprint as Legolas' soft knock pattered on the door.
Faeriel froze. After a moment of indecision, she realized it would take much too long to change back into her usual garb, so she would just have to answer it in the gown.
Legolas bestowed her with his soft eyed smile before his glance was drawn down to her new attire.
Legolas' mouth went dry and he felt as if a wave of heat physically slammed into him and proceeded to infuse his blood, all of which seemed to course downward to pool into that foremost ache. Words utterly failed him...
The gown suited Faeriel perfectly, clinging to her curvaceous silhouette in ways that made his *wî twitch...but moreover it was not fully fastened, and the effect was truly devastating. Her pillowy breasts tumbled out of the unlaced bodice, and for a long moment, Legolas could not tear his gaze from the sight. He did not think the seductive state of her garb was intentional, for her tempting behavior ever seemed endearingly accidental. It occurred to Legolas she may never have worn a gown before.
Faeriel's pulse raced as Legolas' sapphires lowered and lingered. A charge of fluttery heat rushed through her body at the strange, penetrating intensity of his gaze. When his eyes flickered back up to hers, Faeriel felt another stroke of heat lap at her center and she exhaled shakily. When Legolas spoke, his low, husky whisper sent an even hotter flare searing through her core, making her breath hitch.
"Beautiful."
Faeriel noticed his cheeks were going rather pink. There was a long pause in which he stared at her with a strange but altogether relishable intensity.
Finally, he spoke again, his voice still soft and rough all at once, and very beautiful. "Faeriel... I am free of obligations this hour. May I enter?"
"Of course," Faeriel breathed. An hour with him! And, he called me beautiful! The young elleth was positively drowning in giddiness. She stepped away, angling her face toward the balcony so he wouldn't see her cheeks burning. She heard him close the door.
Legolas allowed himself another glance whilst her back was turned. His eyes followed the curve of her waist beneath her long wavy tresses to her voluptuous hips and... Legolas swallowed thickly as he beheld the round curves of her seat, richly defined by the supple, lavish fabric. A silvery sheen graced each luscious globe. He longed to—to—he couldn't quite define it. But filling him was a powerful craving to put his hands on her and feel every facet of her velvet clad form against every facet of him.
Moments later, Faeriel glanced back at Legolas. He appeared to be staring in her direction but quickly averted his gaze.
"I hope that you are feeling comfortable," Legolas' regard soon shifted back to her, and he lavished her with a resplendent smile.
Heat flared in the hollow of her thighs. "Yes," Faeriel gasped.
Legolas moved across the chamber to sit in the center of her chaise, patting the cushion next to him. In truth he felt dizzy and flustered and hot, but he arranged his face in what he hoped was a calm and even expression.
Faeriel crossed over and sat, settling the skirts she was so unused to over her legs, which felt bare like a nightgown under the soft, supple fabric. The young elleth bit her lip. Dew already drenched her unclothed center.
Faeriel felt powerfully aware of his sweet forest scent and his proximity, the side of his strong body lightly grazing hers. Legolas bequeathed her with his smiling sapphires, sending another flaming arrow straight to her core.
Legolas maintained his focus determinedly on her dazzling emeralds. But he could not help but notice her bountiful breasts in the edges of his vision. It did not escape his attention that their peaks strove rigidly near the edges of the supple velvet, nor did he fail to sense the inviting intensity of her sweet, vanilla aroma. Ai!
Intense longing filled him...to lean in and kiss those demure lips with ardent thoroughness, and to curl his touch to the soft curves of her body. He could lay her down upon the chaise and massage her with his mouth and his hands, and communicate his love to her with all that he possessed...
Legolas shook himself. It was definitely not yet time. Faeriel had only just arrived, and that moment needed to be wholly special.
His cheeks heated as he absorbed the shy innocence in her upturned face. Legolas extended one arm to drape over the back of the chaise and slid his gaze around the room as he collected himself. Once he felt a mote steadier, he laid his hand upon Faeriel's far shoulder. At once those thrilling sparks swelled from her body into his, making every part of him sparkle and harden with excitement.
Faeriel's nerves came ever more alive with each passing second, vibrating wildly as she drank in Legolas' gorgeous profile. Some emotion flitted over his fair face, and softly he captured his bottom lip betwixt his teeth. After a moment, he released it and tipped his gaze down to hers. Time suspended, their keen ears effortlessly perceiving the rhythmic thumping of their hearts.
Faeriel felt a fiery longing to climb into his lap, wrap her every limb around him, and nuzzle him everywhere. Endless tingles blossomed in the center of her chest and swooped around her belly, and in the center of her the flame of her of desire flickered in an avid, molten dance.
Faeriel licked her lips, drawing his hungry eyes to her mouth. Legolas saw and felt her leaning closer. Aii! He needed her fully in his embrace. In one graceful fluid motion he wrapped her in his arms, drawing her against him as best he could when seated at her side. Her radiant, alluring aura soaked into him, summoning a low dulcet sigh from his chest.
The feel of Legolas surrounding her ignited her far more. At once, that flickering flame burned hotter, the clenching more intense, the channel within her positively writhing with delight. She buried her face in the fair satin curtain of his mane and tried not to moan as she trembled against him.
Legolas lowered his lashes, his eyes drifting over her. The exposed curves of her breasts taunted him. He wanted so badly to trail his fingers across those mounds, to feel their softness in his palm. Pain and pleasure mingled in his throbbing arousal as he drank in the intoxicating sight of her.
Legolas decided to occupy his aching hands upon her back again in the fairly chaste manner of before. But when he tunneled his hands under her long curls, he found not velvet but the sultry satin softness of her skin.
Ai! Her dress was also unlaced in the back. Legolas could scarcely think as her sublime energy jolted into him. Her bare flesh heightened the channel between them, and the decimation of his carefully cultivated composure commenced.
Faeriel's breath hitched. Those wondrous sensations curled tighter inside her, gusting and liquid and hot like a merging of air and water and flame as Legolas' fingers whispered tender songs upon her flesh.
Legolas loosed a low, shaky breath as his heart flung itself against his rib cage with escalating force. His full, stiff *wî pulsed wildly against the fabric of his pants as he began to stroke his fingertips down Faeriel's spine. His mind was on the verge of purging all thought as her exquisite energy kept crackling into him.
Faeriel buried her face deeper in his hair to hide the strange grimaces now commanding her expression. Her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth opened in a silent moan as those delicious, dizzying sensations coursed more fiercely through her.
Faeriel bit her lip, wondering how such powerful pleasure were possible. Legolas alone wielded this magic over her. She wanted more... and more he bestowed.
Legolas swept lower, casting delicious tendrils of pleasure with his magnificent hands, sending Faeriel into a haze of bliss. That exquisite heat thrummed ever harder in the juncture of her legs. Only a tinge of self consciousness kept Faeriel from succumbing to pure ecstasy as she struggled to stifle the sounds threatening to spill from her lips.
Her body felt so delicate and soft under his hands, yet also so inconceivably powerful. She quivered like a leaf in a storm, and yet she was a storm... A beautiful, thrilling force of nature crackling along his nerves and igniting every part of him. Legolas trailed his touch lower, heatedly curious just how far down the dress was parted.
So magical were the little feathery swirls Legolas lavished against her bare skin that Faeriel's mind and body seemed to flow beyond its boundaries. Explosions of bliss erupted along Faeriel's nerves, starting at his touch and spreading everywhere. Pressure built and built between her legs, making her feel as if she could erupt at any moment.
Faeriel fought to keep her breathing quiet and even. The heady, mind-numbing sensations resembled those of gathering elemental energy, yet were far more acute and ecstatic. It felt utterly delectable yet maddening and she desperately desired more.
Legolas glided down her spine until he encountered fabric near the end of her tresses at her lower back. He swallowed hard and slowly swirled back up, then down again, devouring the decadent feel of her body and drinking in the ambrosial flow of her mysterious magic. Legolas tilted his face closer, bequeathing her ear with the uneven rhythm of his breath.
His hands lingered around her lower waist, each dip and swirl quickening the hot flows cascading through her loins, and now his breath blew warm upon her. Hungrily Faeriel tilted her ear toward his mouth. Every bloom of his breath and movement of his hands wrought wondrous whirlwinds within her. Air burst in and out of Faeriel's chest and her hands tightened on his shoulders as the spasming place between her thighs melted and seized with a blistering sweetness.
And then it happened. Into Faeriel's magical awareness radiated a small ray of that astral energy, much like she had experienced in their hour of repose during the march. If she thought about it, she felt it nudging at her every time Legolas exhilarated her thus. Out in the forest, Faeriel had been so drained from the attacks and the long trek that a small amount of cosmic power had unintentionally leaked in. It was so powerful, too powerful, and as she felt it now she knew not how to let it in, nor did she think it would be safe... at least not now.
It felt so utterly intense to touch Faeriel like this. Legolas' mind reeled from the euphoric sensations charging from her body into his, flooding him, infusing him with what felt like pure, scintillating starlight.
Their eyes closed and their thoughts were cast aside as every part of them thrummed. A shared euphoria took them by storm. They were connected, lost in a whirlwind of extreme sensitivity, nerves pulsing throughout their effervescent flesh, the light of stars shining upon them.
They could not know it then, but magical energy swelled between them in waves through his touch upon her spine. Faeriel's energy rolled through Legolas, reverberating in his every thread and cresting in his *wî with such strong sensations of sensual bliss that he nearly cried aloud. But that was not all; his own spiritual energy, his fëa, so rich with love and passion, hummed into her too, touching her soul while making the nerves between her thighs rejoice.
Their fëa were meant to fit together as were their bodies. It was inevitable, written in the stars. It would later be said that it was the power borne of their bonding that changed everything for Arda.
In the thrall of their energies entwining, Legolas continued tracing patterns upon Faeriel's bare, glowing, exhilarating skin. Mesmerized beyond thought, he whispered his fingertips lower, dipping down into the fabric encasing her lower back. He felt the river of her energy rise, so he dipped his fingers in again... And again, lowering even further down her waist, nearly all the way.
Her onrushing energy was too much and yet not enough. Legolas' flesh, particularly his *wî, felt like it might explode, as though just touching her bare back was already too much, and yet he wanted so much more.
Faeriel was all but flying apart. Legolas unleashed a fresh flood between her thighs each time his hand dipped down. The heat sharpened to a searing ache that might have hurt if it did not feel so helplessly sweet.
Both were lightly panting but they were too enthralled in the present moment to perceive and label what was happening. They were suspended in time, just touching, sensing, feeling.
At length, their gazes met. Legolas' thick lashes were half descended. Beneath them his sapphire eyes glistened with strong emotion, and his supple mouth was parted.
Entranced, Faeriel raised her hand to Legolas' velvet cheek. His beguiling brows furrowed but he kept his lidded gaze fastened to hers as she petted him up over his cheekbone.
Legolas held himself very still as she stroked him with her blessed, magical fingertips, though he did not cease his now uneven movements on her back. So hot and rampant rose his blood that his resolve could crumble at any moment. Only a flicker of thought kept him tethered to his mind's aims.
Agitation and wonder filled Faeriel. As Legolas gazed at her and continued to paint aching patterns on her back, she brought her other hand around so she could trace both strong lines of his jaw. Her fingertips felt like they were sparkling, and that urgency built inside her. An urgency for exactly what, she wasn't sure, but she had an inkling. She gripped her thighs together in a vain attempt to assuage the ache between them. Should I say something about these feelings? Faeriel wondered.
"Legolas," she gasped, desire filling her voice.
Legolas' breath had gone very shallow as her heavenly energy funneled into him through his caresses on her back and from her hands upon his face. His body was straining at its confines and bellowing at him to kiss her. Passionately.
"I... love it when you pet me," Faeriel breathed. She did not know if she should say more, if she should tell him about the wild fluttery heat coursing through her body. Gently she kept petting his face, her touch wandering in ever wider patterns.
Legolas' heart tumbled over itself. He could not speak for long moments, so he simply stroked her softly. "And I love it when you pet me," he whispered huskily at last, his mind marveling at her innocent sweetness, and his body driven mad by it.
Suddenly, her roving fingertips lightly grazed the tender whorls within his ears and AI! it was too much. Much, much too much. Legolas made a soft, low sound in his throat. His *wî leapt against its fabric prison, his mind stuttered, and his hands moved instinctively. One tunneled up through her curls to grasp the back of her head. The other burrowed sideways into her parted gown all the way to her side, possessively melting into the tender indent of her waist just above her hip. So soft... so warm... Aii....
Faeriel gasped as the sensations in her spiked. That urgency in her was building faster... Not aware of the intimacy of it, Faeriel petted his brow and drifted out into his hair, her fingers trembling slightly as she meandering outward and downward...
And then, oh so deliciously, his ear points bore the feathery whisper of a touch as her palms slid over them. Another sigh gusted from his lungs and his molten *wî pulsed ecstatically. A helpless, blissful captive to Faeriel's inadvertent teasing, Legolas now teetered on the brink of raw, instinctive passion.
Faeriel kept petting his cheeks and hair, and though she did not hone her touch upon his ears, she continued to brush rapturously against them. Normally Legolas would have stopped her, but he was completely intoxicated by the divine, unrelenting sensations Faeriel poured into him. He desperately wanted her sweet touch upon his ears... and on that immense, taut part of him that was oh so close to erupting into ecstasy. Legolas watched Faeriel with his heavy, hot eyes, his trembling hands tightening upon her as sensation surpassed all thought. The only thing that made sense in the world was pulling her closer.
Legolas was utterly drunk on her sweet scent and the effervescent aura of her touch. Burning desire raced ever more wildly through his virile blood. He leaned toward her, his spellbound gaze dancing between her sultry emerald eyes and her pink, parted lips. Instinct was dragging him far, far away from thought and rooting him in the pure sensory and spiritual experience of loving her.
Faeriel's heart raced and her breath rushed in and out as Legolas began to massage the back of her head and flow his fingers against her sparkling skin. This time he caressed up and down the tender valley of her side, at times squeezing slightly to exquisite effect. Upon her flesh he painted a thousand shooting stars, each one cascading into that molten heart of her sensation, pleasure which in turn reverberated into his own body. He had touched her waist before but upon her bare skin and the rising of his passion it was so much more intense.
Legolas leaned closer, his eyes shining bright and yet so very dark. His short swift breath blew warm and sweet upon her upturned face. Faeriel watched his intent, smoldering gaze flicker up and down and felt increasing pressure from his hands. Eagerly she angled toward him, wondering what was happening, but knowing that she would love any affection he could offer her.
A knock sounded at the door, startling them both. "My Lord Legolas! The King calls upon you."
Confusion flitted across Legolas' face as he was recalled to reality. Irritation first blazed in his veins, but as he realized what he was about to do to Faeriel, kiss her, and in the heat of extreme lust no less, part of him was relieved to be interrupted. The part of him imprisoned in his pants, twitching hard and ready to combust, was not.
It was unlike his Adar to send someone to fetch him for always did he report at the appointed times. He glanced out toward the balcony. Judging by the light, he was not yet tardy. "You may leave. I shall go to him shortly," he called, grimacing at how breathless he sounded.
Moments later, Legolas and Faeriel stood by the door, both feeling bittersweet. Their embrace had ended so abruptly... but it had been unbelievably thrilling.
"Faeriel." Legolas fiddled nervously with his quiver strap, wanting to convey a delicate piece of information to her before he departed. "This gown is...so, very lovely upon you. But...
Faeriel squirmed nervously, wondering what could be wrong.
"I only wish to tell you... your gown is not yet fastened... which is fine, with me, here in your chambers, perfectly fine..." he swallowed. "But, may I say, for perhaps you know not, the laces ought to be done up, were you to go forth..." Legolas trailed off, grimacing at the glaring lack of eloquence he had just so uncharacteristically displayed.
"Oh," Faeriel whispered. Blushing riotously, she peered down at her garment. She had not realized how much of her breasts tumbled forth. Belatedly she noticed the ties that ought to be cinched to temper their volume.
Legolas' heart wobbled at her blush. He caught her in his arms and hugged her tight, trying not to groan at the bliss of it.
"Be not abashed around me," he whispered. "Please. I... I wish for you to feel safe with me. Please know that in my eyes, you are perfect just like this. I only wish to protect you from..." Legolas paused, wondering if he should explain. "From others, for not everyone is kind," he finished simply.
Faeriel knew only too well that not everyone is kind. It had been many years since that fateful day when Rada had saved her, but she did not forget.
"I..." Legolas yearned to tell her everything, but alas, he had to leave, and he wished to let his feelings flow forth when they had many blessed hours to entwine in perfect peace and solitude. "I cherish you so. You can always be free with me."
It was Faeriel's heart then that wobbled, and her vessel scintillated with countless stars. It was fortuitous that Legolas held her tight, one arm surrounding her entire upper body and one around her waist, because her knees had long ago turned to jelly.
Legolas drew back just enough to gaze upon her. "I would like to bring you to a place very dear to me, as soon as I have the time," Legolas murmured. "Would you like that?"
"Ohh, yes!" Faeriel exclaimed breathily. His eyes were so very bright and starry. Faeriel blushed, dropping her gaze for a moment.
Legolas took the opportunity to catch a glimpse of her voluptuous breasts pressed against him.
Moments later Faeriel tipped her gaze up once more. Legolas beheld a wide smile dimpling her cheeks before she tightened her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight.
Legolas' heart flipped again and he squeezed her tightly back. After they pulled apart, he pressed a slow kiss to her forehead, drinking her in for one final blessed moment before he forced his leaden feet to depart.
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Legolas' thoughts tumbled like an avalanche as he strode down the hall. His cheeks burned and his *wî ached as he remembered the feel of her bare, satin waist under his trembling hand and her touch upon his ear. Why had he wandered so far into the opening of her dress? That was crossing the line, surely. And he had very nearly laid his lips on hers. That was not at all how he intended to first kiss her.
Legolas wished to tell her his feelings and pledge himself to her first. Then he would hold his breath, hoping for requital. It was not right to simply spring a kiss upon a maiden. And given the tempest inside him, it would not have been a simple kiss.
He did not know what came over him. He had gone in, intending to share a fruit, some conversation, and of course he hoped to recieve her soft warm embrace. But they had barely spoken and he had covered her bare back and waist in caresses that were so obviously intimate...
One thing was certain. Her bare skin sent too much of her effervescence into him, exciting him beyond measure, shattering his stoicism. And it was too dangerous for her to touch his ears, not just yet. He would have to curtail her hands gently, and meditate before their visits to prepare better self control. Legolas felt as if there were a wild beast inside him, an instinctive, elemental passion that Faeriel awoke in him. But he loved her with his entire being. She was yet so young and so very pure, he must be delicate with her. To Legolas, there was no question. Betrothal to a fëa mate was sacred, and must be treated as such.
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Faeriel felt bereft as she slipped out of her dress and back into her regular clothes. She could never have enough of Legolas' company. Every part of her soared in his presence and her body melted. It had all felt so strong today when he lavished her bare skin with those gentle touches.
Her sweet ache rippled into the rest of the day as she daydreamed of Legolas and his velvet voice, his nimble hands, his strong cuddly body... When Faeriel went to drink more water and relieve herself she could not believe the puddle of dew filling her clothes.
Curiously, she drew her hand up into the hollow of her thighs. Pleasure darted into her, making her moan. She flushed and quickly pulled her hand away, knowing that as she could hear elves throughout the fortress, they could hear her. Surely she must not make such sounds. Faeriel bit her lip and observed the sweet scented gloss upon her fingers. She sighed, wishing she knew more about all this.
Fortuitously, she shortly discovered a satchel of new small clothes in the armoire, which Liannë must have discreetly slipped onto the shelf. They were sewn of velvet cloth, their feel unbelievably soft and gossamer. She tried one on, feeling afraid it would not fit, but there was some give to the fabric and it fit perfectly. Faeriel felt very grateful to Liannë.
Restlessness claimed Faeriel then. She was a little nervous about leaving her quarters but she wanted to immerse in the verdant gardens. She had communed with the energy of the magma heated pool and the ivy and had received many bird visitors but she was eager to feel the moss under her feet and visit the rabbits and other beings in the valley behind the fortress.
With a pattering heart she exited her door and her bare feet padded softly over the stone paths down to the gardens.
Once outside, Faeriel spotted several elves along the path ahead. Faeriel smiled shyly and tried to skirt to the side of them when she found herself suddenly accosted by the group.
"Meadol!" An ellon said, bowing shortly before glancing her over.
"Oh, I... I do not..." Faeriel stammered.
"Do you only speak Westron?" An elleth exclaimed in a tone of surprise.
"Um, yes," Faeriel whispered meekly.
"He said welcome," said another ellon, smiling broadly.
"We were just wondering where you hail from, ah, Faeriel, is it?" Asked the elleth.
"Um. Yes. I um, I hail from my Rada's, I-I mean, Radagast's."
The elves exchanged glances.
"How did you meet the Istari?"
"Um. Well, I, um..."
Faeriel felt a whoosh of air upon her back. She turned to see Talishaya striding gracefully towards them, her long obsidian braids flowing behind her, wearing casual robes of crimson and gold, and none other than Rusco sitting on her shoulder.
"Faeriel, we were just coming to find you!" She beamed. "I have something to show you. Good day," she nodded to the entourage who had beset Faeriel, then promptly linked arms with her and led her away.
"I'm so glad you came along," Faeriel murmured, glancing back at the small crowd who were now watching and muttering in the distance. "I do not know how to talk to them."
"Neither do I," Tali chuckled. "In truth I have nothing in particular to show you. I was just coming to visit you when I met with Rusco, and then you. I trusted you could do with some rescuing." She chuckled again.
Faeriel nodded, smiling.
Tali, Faeriel and Rusco visited the orchards where they spent time with other Ardalings sampling berries, tomatoes and Faeriel's favorite, persimmons.
"Legolas tells me you enjoy these," Tali smiled.
"Yes, we picked them together yesterday." Faeriel hesitated, then asked. "Where do you think he is right now?"
"On this day, he is arranging for guards to await visitors from Imladris at the border of the forest some days hence, so that they can be escorted safely to our Halls."
Faeriel shivered, thinking of the sickness plaguing much of the forest. Then she thought of Legolas working so hard to fight off the evil and protect everyone. And then she thought of his warmth and sweetness. "Legolas is very cuddly," she murmured dazedly.
Talishaya grinned. "I am quite certain no one has ever said that of him before."
Faeriel blushed, and for a moment felt embarrassed to have said such a thing aloud, but Tali's serene smile put her at ease. She felt a different warmth at her new friend's presence, and found herself smiling throughout the afternoon as they greeted Ardalings in the garden.
Some time later, it became loudly apparent that an argument had broken out in one of the orchards. When Faeriel and Tali rounded the bend towards the commotion, they caught sight of two ladies standing over a table laden with baskets of fruit, their eyes narrowed at each other.
"You ask too much of me. You're so engrossed in your work that you don't spend any time with me," one elleth cried.
"You are always trying to pull me away from my work! I have responsibilities!" The other humphed.
Faeriel could not bear to see the two ladies fight. She went to them as if drawn by an invisible string. They were so angry as they flung accusations at one another that they did not notice her as she placed one hand on each of their shoulders. Their stiff posture endured for but a moment, before they sagged, raising their hands to their hearts, staring at each other with widening eyes as if seeing each other for the first time.
"Silvi, I didn't realize you felt that way..." one of the two whispered.
"Nor I, Flora," the other said.
"You were doing it all for me? For us?"
"Yes... But I should have made more time for you. I will now!"
The two ladies did not even notice Faeriel as they dashed around the table and hugged each other. It was only after Faeriel departed, awe in her heart at what had just transpired, that they gazed after her curiously.
"Empathy abounds in you," Talishaya remarked, wisdom pooling deep in her golden hazel eyes.
~ Truer words were never spoken, ~ Rusco agreed.
Faeriel was too surprised to speak. When she had touched the ladies' shoulders, she had felt their emotions and she was almost certain she felt them flow through her between them. She had become a conduit in their time of woe... and through their sudden clarity of each other's loving intent and personal needs, she felt the two reconnect to each other and resolve their conflict.
Later in her room, after bidding Tali a fond farewell for the day, Faeriel sat with Rusco on the bed.
~ There's something special about Tali, ~ Rusco remarked. ~ I can't quite put my paw on it, but she is a very good friend. ~
~ So are you Rusco, ~ Faeriel smiled happily, and hugged him to her cheek.
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Legolas spent that night wishing he were with Faeriel and marveling at her many mysteries. He stood upon his balcony, hearing the subtle sounds from above of her settling in for bed. He was glad to have heard from Talishaya that they had a pleasant afternoon.
Legolas was amazed by the magical strength he sensed inside Faeriel. The young elleth was so gentle and kind and the only sort of person who could have such power and not be corrupted. Of this, Legolas was certain.
Gazing upon the stars, he hoped it would not be long before he had time to take Faeriel to relax with him in his refuge. And, perhaps also relax in the bath... Although, in that scenario he would need to work extra hard to keep a level head. He could imagine how tempting it would be to sit with her in their small bathing garb. And imagine he did.
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🍃 On a scale of one to ten, how do you rate the sexual tension now? 🥵😅