Chapter Three: To Be Wise and Love Exceeds Men's Might

"Stop a moment, Legolas."

Legolas was some 1,200 years older than his half-brother, Amlugndagnir, who was better known to the world by the jaunty Westron translation of his name, Dragonkiller.

And better known to his friends and family simply as Dagnir.

He was only 609, but Legolas' other brother was a child ten years old.

And though Greenleaf and Dagnir seemed little alike, still they were brothers, and close as two brothers might be.

Dragonkiller was an inch or two shorter than Legolas, but twice as wide in the shoulder and he was burly and black-haired, and as hirsuite in his black hair as a man was.

But when he was a young man, he was not so hairy, and he was so pretty that he was often mistaken for a girl.

As soon as he could, like his Numenorian grandfather, Dragonkiller grew a moustache and goatee.

When he was twenty he earned his name, and all his life wore a pair of boots made from the hide of his first dragon.

At 25 he went to war at his father's side, fighting orcs, but he got the branching scar on the left side of his face that looked like frost on a winter windowpane honoring the old alliance between Elves and Dwarves at Azanulbizar.

He didn't use magic to cover it; the scar, the goatee and moustache and his near-permanent jaunty smirking leer gave him a look of the fallen angel that drove women wild.

And women had always been one of Dragonkiller's favourite pastimes.

Indeed, he may have even preferred women to war.

Dragonkiller could never have enough of wine, women or war; he rode down the hillside and nearly into the mouth of Smaug even after his father called off the Elvin army, and commanded one of Vargbrand the Great Beast's legions in the War of Dwarves and Orcs.

But Dagnir similarly was known to ride with Rangers, and had gone to battle under the flag of Rohan, by whose savage gods of the Aesir he also swore.

There was always a war against orcs going on somewhere, or a lesser wurm than Smaug to be slain, a human witch or wizard trying to stir up trouble, or even unruly trolls.

You could be sure that after he had abided at home for more than a season or two, Dragonkiller would go and find any of these calamities, wherever they might be.

King Thranduil was, Legolas thought, unusually proud of his black-haired, burly, swaggering warrior son, and though by all rights Legolas, his father's heir, and Dagnir's polar opposite should have had nothing but disdain for his show-off, grandstanding, swashbuckling brother, he never considered same, for even a moment.

Legolas, unlike Thranduil, was not often the man he seemed to be.

His disgust with Dwarves was infamous, but from his very birth, Legolas had treated Thalin, son of Thorin as if he were a younger brother and not a cousin; he had never abandoned Anorloth and her son even when his father did, and did all in his power to help them, even when Anorloth and Thorin were living as man and wife in Laketown.

That was because Legolas did something his father never thought of, as a general rule.

He tried to understand the motivations of his kin, and his comrades, and even his enemies, before he judged them, even if he thought their actions were questionable.

Now, Legolas didn't completely understand his brother's desire to honor the old alliance between Men, Elves, and Dwarves, but he knew that Dagnir put great stock in it, and his honor was wrapped up in it.

Thalin felt the same way, but Legolas could fully understand his cousin's reasoning.

Legolas was in agreement with Thalin and Dagnir insofar as an alliance with men went, but he certainly didn't see any honor in being allied with Dwarves.

Although, especially around Thalin, he kept his prejudices to himself.

But, they were brothers; they ate and drank together, and hunted together, and had been to war together; hate could not have been further from their minds.

And when Thranduil told Legolas he would not marry Tauriel, because he was the heir, Legolas entrusted his love to his brother, Dagnir.

He preferred to think that guarding Tauriel's virtue was not a hands-on job, and often admonished Dagnir not to tell him otherwise, but it was only Dagnir's habit when he was falling-down drunk, so Legolas could forgive him.

Especially as Dagnir swore up and down that, in the main part, Tauriel was entirely virtuous, only having the occasional rare lapse, not more than five in a hundred and fifty

Legolas though, was far more inclined to seriousness than his brother, so when Dragonkiller approached him one morning with such a glum expression and serious tone, he was concerned.

"I am stopped, Dagnir. What troubles you? Have our prisoners made an attempt at escape? is Tauriel in danger?"

"No. But it regards Tauriel."

"Dagnir, you do not have to confess to me Tauriel's latest moment of weakness! My vow to my father to have no more to do with her has worn harder on her down the years that it has upon me. I would not begrudge her a little peace in your arms. But if you must tell me of it, again, in the detail you usually do, I may not be able to keep my vow!"

"You had better forget your vow, or lose your girl! It's not me, this time, Greenleaf. She's set her cap for the black-haired Prince of Erebor. The archer, Kili. Tauriel spends a lot of time, minding those prisoners. And my sister keeps Fili prisoner in her rooms, at night. Leaving our little Forester plenty of long, dark, quiet hours to while away with her Dwarf-swain."

"She would not! Not with a Dwarf?"

Dragonkiller laughed.

"You say that as if they were not human! By Thor, they are, as much as you and I! Kili and Fili are but different shoots from the same tree as we are, Greenleaf. I have lived among Dwarves, and I know the brothers well. You are lucky it's Kili she's set her cap for and not Fili, for Fili would have had her, two ways and maybe three, by the dawn of the first day in our jail and she would have been looking to him again by nightfall! But, as for Dwarves, as a race, they are shorter and stronger and hardier, but Dwarves are not foreign creatures, as if they were from the moon. Do you think our kinsman Thalin could exist, if Dwarves and Elves were so foreign to each other? Mother Danu, the whole race of Dark Elves come from the union of Dwarves and Elves! I, myself have had women of the Dwarrow race, and other than being a little short and their having fine, downy, scant beards on their chins, they are made no different than any other woman is. If Tauriel had come to see that men are men, despite the name of their race, I think she would do do it! Especially where Prince Kili courts her, and you ignore her. What woman would at least not be tempted?"

"Because Tauriel loves me!"

"And therefore she would never touch another man? Does she love me, Greenleaf? She's my Captain, and I would say she was my friend, but she doesn't love me, does she?"

"You are my brother! And you are an Elf, Dagnir!"

"And you are a man, Greenleaf! If you don't start using that third leg of yours to do something besides piss from and keep your hose from falling down, you're going to spend the next age or three with it in your hand, while Tauriel abides under the Mountain and under her Dwarf Prince husband!"

"But I swore to our father…"

"Well, go and swear at him, instead! That was a terrible promise, made to be broken. And if you love Tauriel, and you do not want to lose her, you should break it. And not tomorrow, or the day after or Tuesday next. Today, Greenleaf! Tomorrow may be too late."

"Brother, what makes you think that Tauriel is so close to surrendering her virtue to a Dwarf?"

"Tauriel's store of virtue is very nearly spent! This very morning, she dragged me, and by the buckle on my belt into the guardhouse, to pay me an unexpected service! And I barely had my breath again than was she falling all over my chest, her lips against my ear, whispering, fairly begging me to…well, to tip her the velvet. Well, considering the circumstances, I could hardly deny her. And it wasn't my name she called, when she had her fists in my hair, yanking it with all her might, at the height of her passion. And it wasn't yours, either, Greenleaf."

"Must you be so specific, Dagnir?"

"When you are in this much peril of losing the woman you love? Yes, I must!"

After Tauriel unlocked the cell door, that night, Kili held it open for her, because she had two large trays.

Of all her charges, Fili and Kili were the hungriest, if she did not bring them enough food to feed four Elves, at every meal, they would both of them come to the door of their cell and tell her how hungry they were, and how they had starved in the forest so that the older men could eat and keep their strength up.

They made what looked to her like huge muscles and complained how they were wasting away.

Tauriel pulled the cell door shut with her foot and put the trays on their table, but Fili continued to lay across his bed, unmoving.

"Aren't you hungry, Fili?"

"Starving. But I can't move. That witch, that whore, between her hungry mouth and her ravenous cunny, she's suckin' the life out of me!"

Tauriel pretended not to be shocked at his words.

"You could tell her when she comes for you tonight that you need a night off." Kili suggested.

"What? I would not deprive myself of one minute of filthy pleasure with my sweet lady Morgana, when I might be burnt to ashes by Durin's Day! Let me die instead the thick of battle, as a man was meant to, impaled on the sword of an orc, or impaling sweet Morgana, Queen of Whores, on my own!" Fili declared.

Kili laughed, and shook his head, and Fili got out of his bed, stretched, scratched the floor of his trim, hairy stomach, and then sat down to eat.

"Fili?"

"Yes, Kili?"

"Breeches."

"Where?"

"Not on your hairy, naked arse, that's where! You are in the presence of a lady, at least put your loincloth on!"

"What? Oh. Excuse me, Lady Tauriel. But I've come to regard you as one of the lads."

"That is nothing new for me, Fili. All the men in my King's service regard me as one of the lads, save Dragonkiller. And Morgana's brother is her equal in degeneracy."

"So you would never indulge?" Fili asked.

Cheekily, as he pulled on his breeches and pulled the laces shut.

Their ribald talk put Tauriel in a playful mood.

She winked at him, and Kili.

"Not unless I absolutely have to. Even I cannot live on starlight, alone."

Kili spit a great quantity of ale out of his nose.

Fili laughed, uproariously, and Tauriel laughed with him.

"You look like you might, Captain. Have they stopped feeding you, since we got here?' Fili asked.

"Things have been tense at my King's table, since your King has been dining with us. It's not very good for your appetite."

"Well, you've brought us enough food for a small army. Go on, eat something." Fili encouraged her.

"My manners are not very good. I'm not a noblewoman."

"That's good. Because ours are atrocious, when we're not made to mind them. Especially Kili's. Kili, get your hand out'r the fookin' eggs! Use your fork!"

Fili was sitting on the bed, so Tauriel sat in his chair.

She didn't see any harm in having a meal with Fili and Kili, after all.

Legolas brooded all day, and before the festival re-commenced that evening, he went for a long walk, to think and clear his mind, in the wake of his brother's disturbing words.

He was surprised to meet his father along a woodland path.

Not because Thranduil never went abroad in his woods, but because Legolas was sure that no one had followed him, and he had not followed the paved path.

In fact, he was walking along the path that led to the stately old oak that had sheltered him and Tauriel from prying eyes, when they lay there together on the soft grass.

So many years ago.

Dagnir had black hair, and he was sturdily built, and hairier than an Elf.

And she had cried out the raven-haired Dwarf's name, at the height of her passion.

Legolas guts' twisted; anger ripped through them like a virus.

"You look troubled, Legolas. As well you should be."

Legolas was in no mood to be admonished by his father, and whirled on him, angrily.

"Are you going to lecture me, too, that I am about to lose the woman I love to a Dwarf? You have no place to tell me so, father! It is your fault, and not mine, if I have lost Tauriel!" he accused.

"My fault? Tauriel was not even 400 when you asked my permission to marry her! And she's not of noble birth, and hasn't a drop of Sindari blood!"

"Says the son of Morgan le Fay, mother of all the Silvani, Thranduil the Stag King, with horns growing out of his head!"

"Antlers. You're my heir, Legolas. You will sit on my throne, after me, and your son or daughter after you. I can't just let you marry anyone, especially not an untried young girl! I am still considering your request, and as Tauriel grows into full womanhood, I am beginning to lean your way. And I said you didn't have my permission to marry her! I never told you to abandon her, completely, and send your brother to her bed in your stead, when the poor girl becomes so desperate that she can't bear it, any longer! You're my son, it's my blood in your veins, I know you're a man, not a marble effigy of one. You had better act like it, or you will lose your love, and I my ward and Captain to a Dwarf!"

"What kind of disorderly house do I inherit, that my own father talks to me like this?" Legolas persisted.

"Don't be such a puritan, Legolas! My wife and my concubines are under my roof, in my household, not under a Dwarf, under their Mountain because they have no reason to leave me. You are 1900 years old and already finished? I was 200 when I married your mother and 201 the year you were born. All my children but Estel and the child Ari carries were born by the time I was your age. Not to mention, your brother has two sons."

"Dagnir's mistress is a half-blood Dark Elf, and her mother was of the Hidden Folk!"

"You would speak of either race with derision? I am the shepherd of this forest, as you will be, someday, and every living creature on it! The Hidden Folk, too, are my people! And once there was a colony of Dark Elves, in my greenwood. They may return, if that dragon ever takes his leave! My stepmother, your Aunt Anorloth's mother came from that colony, she was a Dark Elf! And you have already presided over Tauriel getting far too familiar with a Dwarf. Worse, a Dwarf who is blood kin to Thorin Oakenshield and the sons of Cain! You have lost half of her affections, already! You will lose them, altogether at this rate!"

"What do you expect of me, Father!"

Thranduil swore under his breath.

He was beginning to lose his composure.

"I expect you to stop pouting and nancying and quimbying about, and to be a man! You are my son! Act like it!"

"What do you think I am, a bull or a stallion that you own, that you can command to rut, upon your word? I am my own man, father, not an animal you can put out to stud!"

"What I think is that Tauriel is a lovely young girl, and a fine soldier, and I expect that her fine sons and daughters should not have beards, and serve their Uncle Thorin! I expect that if you sit on your thumbs and dither, that I will steer Tauriel in the direction of your brother, Dragonkiller, to be his concubine! I will see my Captain of the Guards bound to one of my sons, I will take her as a mistress, myself, rather than lose her to Dwarves! You are my heir, Legolas! You must have heirs of your own! Damn it boy, this is business, this is the future of our realm, of our race!"

"I see well why you and Thorin Oakenshield were as brothers! Your minds are in the gutter, and your ambitions protrude no further than the tip of your cock!" Legolas shouted.

"At least ours protrude, lad! If you only use it to piss out of and hold up your hose, you might as well have it cut off, put on a gown and be my seventh daughter, rather than my first son!" Thranduil retorted.

Legolas tried to angrily brush past his father, but Thranduil swore, loudly, and in his ganger grabbed him by the arm and pulled his son back.

He thrust his face close to Legolas', and as it did when fury overtook him, the spell melted away from the Elvenking's face.

"Don't you even try to walk away from me while I'm talking to you, boy! I know that I am snickered at behind my back and there are those who mock me, asking how can one man love six women? Easily, if those six are your mother and your aunts. I have held myself up to ridicule for 1700 years for the women I love, and I would rather be thought of as faintly ridiculous than spend my life without them! You will not be so haughty, and so proud, and self-righteous when you have lost the one you love, forever! The world is not made of cold serene contemplation, and lofty deeds of courtly magnificence, it is made of flesh and blood, and so are you! Whether you would have it that way, or not!"

Legolas' serene brow furrowed.

"But what can I do, father? I see how close Tauriel is becoming with the archer! I envy him their camaraderie; it has been years since Tauriel and I could speak so freely and easily! If we were threatened by an attack of spiders, or orcs, or goblins, I would know what to do. If you changed your mind, tomorrow, and sent Dagnir and I stealthily, ahead of your prisoners, to kill the dragon on our doorstep, I would know what to do! But something like this, father? I am as furious as I am hurt, and I am at a loss for what I must do. The only thing I can think ofto do is to become angry and shout, or to beg forgiveness, or to do some of both. Which would be unseemly. So I have done nothing. And every day that I do nothing, say nothing, I drive Tauriel closer to the arms of another man. What strategy can I make, in a situation like this?"

Thranduil let his son go, and his scars were hidden again, as he walked with Legolas further down the earthen path.

"It's not a war, Legolas. You must do something you are loath to do. Show your true feelings."

"To Tauriel? You want me to make a fool of myself in front of her?"

"There is a word for men who will not make fools of themselves in front of women they have wronged, my son. Lonely. If you are angry, show her that you are. And if you want her forgiveness, ask. I don't know if you have brought yourself low enough to beg, but then again I have never kept a woman waiting for a century and a half. And you must stop worrying about what is unseemly. That is for courtiers and climbers. Not princes and kings. We have the privilege and the power to do what we like. Whether or not it's considered unseenmly."

"Not without consequence."

"No. Not without consequence. But I will take any consequence that is coming to me, rather than forfeit my privilege to do what I like. I am a man, and a King, and I will do my will, and damn the consequences, I say! You ought to try that way of thinking, lad. You would sleep better, and worry less."

"She has seduced Dagnir, Father, and called upon the Dwarf prince in her passion."

"Then you had better damn the consequences, and strike while the forge is still hot."

It took Legolas a moment to realize that his father had made an off-color joke, and he tried not to laugh, but he could not help himself.

"Then I might go to the palace now, and find Tauriel, and throw her over my shoulder and carry her to the nearest empty room with a locked door. For the forge of your ginger-haired Captain is always hot." Legolas chuckled.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow.

"I have long suspected as much, Legolas. We may thank our gods that it is not the raven-haired blacksmith that Tauriel finds herself infatuated with, for if there is a forge among the women of our race that he's not brought his hammer down in, then it is a mere and temporary oversight on Thorin's part. Neither his nephew, the junior Great Beast, or even the wolf Vargbrand himself can hope to approach Oakenshield's number of conquests. He is a randy old satyr, and might as well have horns on his head, but those of a goat! And it is his blood in the archer's veins, and that of the infamously debauched sons of Cain. Thorin bears me a grudge that have kept his Anorloth from him, and he would be glad to satisfy it by making sure that his nephew takes Tauriel from you. The wily old whoremaster is not above using his nephew's puppy love to his own ends. So you cannot merely swing your cock around and expect to win the day. You must turn your mind to plots and schemes, and come up with a plan more devious than any Thorin might have. To win Tauriel, Legolas, you must use your head, your heart, and swing your cock, and you must do it as I would if I were you. Do you understand, my son?"

Legolas thought on his father's words.

"Now I do, father."

"Good."

Tauriel had tried to put aside her baser feelings and befriend Kili.

He was very warm toward her, and very eager for her friendship.

And Tauriel did not realize how eager she was, for a man's friendship, that was warm and real and genuine.

They talked about all manner of things, but chief among them were hunting, scouting, and archery.

"Well I make my own arrows. By hand. I carved my own bow, too, and my brother, who is an apprentice blacksmith to my Uncle, he made the metal nocks. I've heard men who claim to be archers, talking about buying their arrows. Then they are not archers. I wish I had one of my arrows. I could explain myself, better."

"I have taken charge of your bow, and your arrows, Kili. For safe keeping. I admire your craft. It's nothing like anything I've made. I can barely fit one of your arrows to your bow. I needed to use both hands just to pick it up. You know, I always thought of Dwarves as little people. But you're not as little as I thought you would be. And you certainly make up for what you lack in height, in your strength! Especially your people, Kili. Morgana is six feet tall, and your brother could pick her up, with one arm, and throw her over his shoulder! And then there is the way you just pulled that iron bar out of this door, to do your exercises with. Did you even use two hands? And your Uncle? Why, his arms are as big around as an Elf's legs! I went to collect his dishes, and I had to ask him for the butter knife, as my King doesn't want any of you to have anything close to a weapon. He said it had probably gone under the bed. And he just lifted it up, with one hand, leaned over, got the knife and put the bed back down. There is a full-sized double bed in his room, with four posters! And damask bed-curtains."

"There is? And you mean that Kili and I have had to make do with four poster single beds? And cotton bed-curtains? My god, you Elves are fookin' inhumane!" Fili piped up.

"This is a private conversation, Fili!"

"Is it? About bows and archery? You could have this conversation with a man!"

"Don't you ever talk to women, Fili, apart from saying something filthy? But then again I suppose your conversations with Morgana the Witch are limited to screaming at her that she's going to drown you if she doesn't unlock her thighs from around your neck!"

"But what a way to go!"

"Fili!"

Alright! I'm not listening. Talk to this beautiful girl, who's mad about you, all about your bloody nocks! I'll just lie here on me bed and read."

From the next cell, Thorin laughed, and shouted something in Khuzdul.

"What did your Uncle say?"

"You don't want to know. And never mind my brother. He's got a one track mind. I have noticed that, too. About the difference in strength, in our peoples. You Elves are taller than we are, but, none of you are very, well, big. With the exception of my cousin Thalin, but he's half a Dwarf. And Dragonkiller, but he's Numenorian, in part. So, you may be a little taller than me, but I'm actually a lot bigger than you are. Stronger, too. I don't mean that as an insult, but that's the point I'm trying to make, about my bow. And yours. Every arrow and every bow ought to be made to suit the bowman. I use birch to make my arrows, and I forge my own arrowheads, too. The heads are flattened, but they are made of mithril steel, and I keep the flat edges sharp. Now, another archer would use a different bow, and a different sort of arrow. You can't just buy a bow and a score of arrows at a market and expect them to suit you. My bow is made to suit me. Your hands are too small for it. See?"

Kili reached for Tauriel's hand, through the bars.

She tried to act as if it didn't mean anything.

"I see. I could fit both my hands in one of yours."

"Strange. I thought your hands would be softer. But your palms are almost as tough as mine."

"I'm not a lady of leisure."

Tauriel did not ask him not to take her hand, but the next time they spoke, she reached for his hand, and Kili took hers.

The longer that Thranduil kept the Dwarves prisoner, the more it seemed to Tauriel that everything she had ever heard about their race was wrong.

She was their jailer, and she had come to know these 13 Dwarves as people, and they didn't seem so awful to her.

Especially Kili, with whom she had become friends.

They spoke every night, for as long as she dared.

And when Tauriel went back to sit in the chair by the guardhouse, she would listen to him play the violin, and sometimes he'd sing, too.

Kili never slept until the wee hours of the morning, when Fili came back to their cell.

And even though Fili could have stayed with Morgana, all the time, he didn't, because he knew his brother would pine for him, alone in the jailhouse.

Surely, the brothers decency and loyalty were proof enough that Dwarves were no lesser people than hers.

Thalin, who was Thranduil's nephew, and lived in his household was half a Dwarf, and quite obviously Thorin's son, he looked very much like him.

The last thing Tauriel expected though, was that she would be drawn into their conspiracy, and slowly, she was.

It was strange, to know them, as people, Dwarves.

Tauriel had heard of such folk, and she imagined them to be almost mythical, like pixies or nixies that buzzed through the air in the wood.

But just as, when she had met enough Men in her travels, she came to know that Dwarves were just that.

People.

They were a little shorter, and Dwarven men were built solid and burly, but they were not so different as she had been led to think they were.

Kili and his brother and Uncle were all tall for Dwarves, Thorin was nearly five foot four and so was Kili, and Fili was about five foot three.

Tauriel was only five feet and six, herself; they were not these ugly, mis-shapen things she had expected.

Only people.

But maybe it was her own infatuation with Kili that made her think in such a way.

He was beginning to look so impossibly strong, again, as he must have before the perils of Mirkwood, truly the Heirs of Durin had the constitution of oxen.

She often found him and Fili dueling with wooden swords they had made from the slats under their beds, to keep their skills up, and Kili was always awake when she came to bring them their breakfasts, pushing against the walls and the floor, running in place, she opened the door one morning and found he and Fili had attached an iron bar from who knew where across their doorway, and Kili was doing pull-ups.

Bare-chested.

"I have to get my strength back. I have a dragon to kill." He had told her.

Tauriel should not have been thinking it, but she wondered if the renewed strength that flowed through him had re-invigorated him, once more, as a man.

And why should it not, he was young and strong, and if Tauriel had never listened to women's stories about their rough and ready Dwarven lovers, burly, earthy men of considerable stamina, well-made and well-hung, she certainly recalled them, now.

Walking the hallways in the wee hours, Tauriel could think of little else.

"Tauriel!"

Why was Kili calling her?

They had already spoken, that night.

Was her thinking of her, too?

She went to his cell.

Kili's handsome face was glowing, and he squeezed both her hands and whispered a secret to Tauriel.

He did it impulsively, recklessly even.

Not realizing the effect it had on her, to have his lips so close to her ear, to feel his breath on her neck.

"We're going to be getting out of here, very soon! I know you won't tell."

"No, Kili. I won't. I'm glad to see that you and your people will go free."

"Will you remember me, Tauriel? And after we are established under the Mountain, again, and your King and my Uncle have had to mend their fences, and we can meet without bars between us, really, will you remember me?"

"Of course I will, Kili! You have become my…my friend. We will have to go hunting, together. Like I promised."

Kili smiled, so genuinely, and the expression in his deep brown eyes was so very warm that Tauriel nearly cried.

"I'm going to ask you something, now, that's probably going to make you slap me in the face."

"I might not."

"Well, there is the chance, the very good chance, that all you will be able to do is remember me. The desolation of dragons is dangerous work. Do you think you could unlock my door, and come in here, just for a moment…and I could kiss you goodbye? Just for good luck."

"Kili, I…I couldn't!"

"Why not? I didn't mean anything…serious."

"Yes you did! Anorloth has told me all about the kind of kisses to be had, from the men of your line! She said it is to have the very fires of Mahal's forged breathed into her soul, from the kiss on her lips of one of the Heirs of Durin!"

"Close your eyes, my lady fair. Think on the ravens, of my hair. And on your lips? My kiss will linger there. Until all time is done. And in my fire, you shall burn. Until by death? You are undone."

"Did your father write that? I don't know that one."

"That's because it's one of mine. Uncle Thorin told me about what Anorloth said. How she fell in love with him, the first time they kissed. It inspired me to write that little poem."

"For who?"

"A girl I haven't met, yet. Or at least, I hadn't met her. Until now."

"I couldn't, Kili. It has been so long that…"

"That what? That you are cold as marble and your blood has turned to dust? Well then your people say that a kiss from a mortal can give them new life, and breathe heat back into their cold blood, and fire into their stone hearts. Let me give you the gift of mortal fire. From the very forges of Mahal, that burn in the blood of the Heirs of Durin. Then, even if I am dead and gone, I know, you will never be able to forget me."

It had been almost a hundred and fifty three years since Tauriel had kissed a man whom she had deep feelings for.

But never had she kissed a Dwarf.

Tauriel unlocked the cell door, stepped in, and locked it behind her.

Kili drew her into his powerful arms, and held her fast.

"You don't feel cold to me, Tauriel."

"I lied?"

"I forgive you."

And he kissed her.

Kili's was not the kiss of a boy, who had never held a woman in his arms.

Make no mistake, he was a man.

And he did not give her a chaste kiss of friendship.

Kili knew and she knew that this was all there would ever be, between them.

He put all the feeling he had for her, into that one kiss.

When they parted, Tauriel felt like she might not be able to stand on her own two feet.

"Kili, I do feel it! I feel…fire! It's true! It's…that's not supposed to happen, just from a kiss."

She sat down in a heap on his bed, and Kili got his mug, from dinner and gave it to her.

Tauriel took a few sips of cold ale, and put the mug down.

"It is when the kiss is from me! I have been told that my kisses can steal the breath not just from your body, but from your soul. And since that is the only kiss from me you'll have, I tried to make it one of my very best. Now, what's not supposed to happen, just from a kiss?"

Kili winked at Tauriel, and grinned.

She did not want to laugh, but she did.

"You are just as wicked as your brother is, aren't you?" she asked.

"I can't help myself. It's in my blood."

Tauriel felt confused, and frightened, yet she was dazed with happiness and somewhat overwhelmed by lust.

Kili could have done what he liked with her, just then, at that moment.

But, he didn't.

"Don't you think you'd better go and check on the rest of your prisoners, Tauriel?"

"What? Oh, yes, of course. I, well, I…I'll see you tomorrow, Kili."

"I'll still be here. We're not leaving in that much of a hurry." He said.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, too." Tauriel admitted.

She smoothed out her hair and her clothes before his and Fili's mirror, and locked Kili back in his cell.

With Tauriel's shift at its end, she went outside, to attend the festival.

It was a beautiful night, a full moon, and she laughed and danced and sang with her people in a happy daze.

Feeling as alive as if she were filled with the ageless fire of the stars.

But not every reveler at the feast was so merry.

"Having a good time without me, are you, Tauriel?"

Legolas grabbed her by her arm, and dragged her from the lighted pavilion, away from the path.

He had grabbed Tauriel, hard enough to hurt her, and his face was full of wrath, as he dragged her further into the wood.

Tauriel cried out in protest and dug her heels into the ground.

"What's the matter with you? Where are you taking me?"

"Do you think I would speak to you of this, where anyone could hear? I am humiliated enough that you've been throwing yourself at your Dwarf swain! At least my sister Morgana has the decency to take her lover to her bed! But a prison cell was good enough for you! Did you whore yourself for him, completely? Did you go on your knees before your hairy Dwarf, on the cold floor of my father's jail? And do not swoon, and tell me how you and your sweet prince made love, when I know, I know that you went to him the way a bitch on heat does to a wolf in the wood, for him to…to…to fuck you!"

Legolas spat his words at her, in a rage, and Tauriel struggled against him.

"Let me go, Legolas! I have done no such thing, I swear to you!"

"If you have not, then you will! Unless I stop you! And I could remind you of how I love you, how I have loved you, for some 400 years! I could tell you how deeply you have wounded me, in your faithlessness, but neither would matter to you! You are too much a Silvani, all fire in your blood and lust in your belly! If there is only one thing you understand, then you shall have it!"

Tauriel wrenched herself from his grasp, and Legolas pulled her back, and with as great of anger as if he had slapped her in the mouth, he kissed her.

She didn't resist.

Tauriel held her hand to her mouth in shock, then put her fingers on Legolas' lips, just for a moment.

He was surprised that she was smiling.

"Legolas, you have not kissed me for a hundred and fifty three years, four months, and twenty-one days!" she exclaimed.

She looked around.

"It's out tree! You've taken me to our tree!"

Tauriel threw her arms about Legolas' neck, and kissed him again.

There was so much of that fire in her kiss, the fire that she had already breathed into his blood; he very nearly lost himself.

He didn't think there would be any harm in kissing her, just once, but there was great harm in it, for all that was unquiet in his body remembered too well the taste and feel of her soft lips that she parted for him, so willingly…the sweet hunger of her warm mouth…the way she fell all over his chest, both yielding and demanding at the same time?

It was difficult to stick to his plan.

"Twenty-three days." He corrected her.

"I swear to you, I have done nothing with Prince Kili but befriend him. Is that so horrible?"

Legolas began to look angry, again.

The combination of his desire and his rage led him from his planned path.

"I can tell by the way you say his name that your feelings toward the Dwarf are more than those of friendship! And that you have done more than hold his hand, and talk to him about archery! Have I disappeared from your sight? From your mind? How could you do this to me? Do you not know, Tauriel, how I love you?"

Legolas shook her, and Tauriel grew angry, too, and shoved him away.

"Now you're angry again! That is all you ever are, anymore, to me? Either cold, or furious! I'll tell you what you've disappeared from! My bed! And if it shocks you that I should need, that I should want, that I should expect you to make the occasional appearance there, then be shocked! It has grown very cold, my bed, cold as your blood, in a hundred and fifty three years! Do you suppose that my blood is dust and that I have turned to stone, like you have? Now you act like a jealous fool, and speak to me of love, when for a hundred and fifty three years, all we have done is hunted, and warred and spoke of archery! Can I truly be faulted if I have warm feelings towards a handsome man, who sees me not as his vassal, but as a woman? If I enjoy being courted, if I like to hold hands, and flirt, and if I would dare dream of being held and kissed, to love and be loved, is that such a terrible crime?" Tauriel cried, in a voice of outrage.

"Be wary of what you say to me, Tauriel! I am not made of stone, nor is my blood turned to dust. I am my father's son, and it is his blood in my veins; it will never turn to dust! But I can never marry you. Never. And if father does change his mind, it will not be for another four hundred years!"

"You are the King's son, Legolas! You may do what you want! And your father is not married to five of the women he has sons and daughters with! Are they lonely? Are they cold? If I did not trouble you with requests of marriage in the past, why would I, now?"

"You do not understand. If I cannot marry you, I will never marry! Why give you, why give myself false hope? Go, then! Help him and his fellows escape, your fine Dwarf prince, and be released into the heaven of his love! His Uncle will marry my aunt, why should you not marry Thorin's nephew? Why should you not leave me, what am I to you, now that you have your Dwarrow lover?"

Legolas words were both sad and mocking.

"Must I give one of you up, to love the other? Must you give me up, because we may not marry? Do you really expect me to wait another four hundred years? Where is any of that written, in the laws of our people?"

Legolas laughed a sneering laugh.

"There is little of that kind of regulation, in the laws of our people." He said.

Coldly.

"Now you are not even angry, anymore! And to think I thought that you were dragging me into the wood, to our secret place, for some purpose other than to lecture me." Tauriel said, a little sadly.

"Have I driven you so low, in your desperation, Tauriel, that not only would you take a Dwarf for your lover, but that you would submit yourself to rape?" Legolas demanded.

He looked quite so lordly, and so shocked that Tauriel had to laugh.

"Rape? What rape? That implies a lack of willingness on my part, Legolas. Wrongly implies, I should say."

"Do not tempt me so, Tauriel! I will not be able to restrain myself!"

"You have restrained yourself for almost a hundred and fifty four years! We are alone here, in the wood. No one is here to see, and no one would ever know, if here, in our wood, by our tree, you restrained yourself no longer. You might blame the festive mood, or the full moon, or the ale you've drunk for your shocking lapse of chastity. And you may console yourself that, otherwise, never would you have done such a thing." Tauriel said.

"You want that I would not restrain myself? You want that I should take you for my concubine, as my father has taken my mother's sisters for his, marked them as his own in the wild need for him that he has burnt into their blood? That is what you want?"

Legolas spoke angrily, spitting his words at her, again.

She put her arms around his neck, and caressed the knotted muscles of his clenched jaw, gently.

"I am glad to have your friendship and your comradeship, Legolas. And I have not the words to tell you what it means to me that you still love me. But I too am alive, a woman, and not a marble statute. I want you to continue to be all you have been to me. But I need you, Legolas, I need you so desperately, to be a man to me! The way you once were. Yes, let the household hear me cry out for you, night after night, as we hear your father's wives crying out for him! Let me give you the fire in my blood, so that yours burns for me, for not another hundred and fifty years, but another hundred and fifty centuries!"

Legolas kissed her again, and held her hard against his body.

"You are the ruin of all I had planned to say to you, this night, of all I had planned to do. I forgot how you could make a fire in my blood, and drive all thoughts but my need for you quite from my mind. You have driven my blood far from my head, at the very least. Tell me, is it cold, or lifeless, what you feel between us, my Tauriel?" he asked her.

"I stand corrected, Legolas. Or rather, you do."

"I will make you regret, my little ginger girl, that you ever thought I was no longer a man! You will cry out for me far louder, woman, than my father's women do for him! I will love you, I will ravish you, I will make you scream my name, and you will forget that you ever looked at a Dwarf, and saw a man! Look on me! I am more man than any stunted, stocky, gnarled Dwarrow! You do not know fire, yet! You think you do, but you do not! But you will! I had mercy on you, in the past. I did not want to drive you made for love of me, as I have been mad, for four hundred years, for the love of you! But you will have no more mercy from me, Tauriel. I will make you to me what my father's women are to him! And until the end of time, Tauriel, oh yes, you shall burn!"

"I like these words better than any I've heard from you in a long time, Legolas. But you are still talking." She reminded him.

Legolas leaned his bow against the trunk of a tree, took off his quiver and put it beside his bow.

Then, he unbuckled his belt.

"What are you doing?" Tauriel asked.

Now he took off his surcoat, and hung it in the branches of the tree he had rested his weapons with.

"I am still talking. You have not pulled me by the buckle of my belt closer to the sweet hunger of your soft lips and your warm mouth, as you did my brother. But I am not insulted. Before the sun rises, I will satisfy all of your hungers. How do you like those words?"

He could see Tauriel tremble, and Legolas smiled.

He took off his tunic, hung it in the tree branches, leaned up against the trunk and pulled off his boots.

He laid on the ground the blanket he had brought from the pavilion.

"Legolas! You brought a blanket! You intended, all along, that you would have me!"

"I know that I might have had you any time I wanted, in all these years. I know I need not court you and hold your hand. You would strip yourself naked at a nod of my head, and I need only beckon you to have you. But I am just as much your fool, Tauriel. All you ever had to do was to come to me, and ask me to love you, and I would have been helpless to refuse."

Tauriel went over to the tree, and took off her weapons and laid them by Legolas'.

She meant to say something to him, something fine and romantic and yet smutty, like the things he was saying to her that made her weak with desire.

But that was not what she said.

"Legolas! You've grown hair on your chest! You never had before, just on your legs and…elsewhere."

"It's not very much. Do you like it, little wild one?"

Tauriel lost herself to desire, p ut her palms on Legolas' chest, and ran her hands over it, then she kissed his chest, her tongue lingering to recall to mind the taste of him.

When she touched and kissed him in such an intimate way, it coaxed a moan out of the Elf-Prince's throat, and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, again.

This time, with as much passion as she had kissed him.

"Long have I missed you, my Tauriel. Long have I wanted you!"

Then, when they parted, Legolas unfastened her belt and her surcoat and pushed her surcoat off her shoulders.

While he hung her clothes with his, Tauriel took off her tunic and her boots, too, leaving her in her chemise and her hose.

They were face to face, again, and Tauriel lifted her arms for Legolas to take off her chemise.

She wasted no time pulling off her hose and stuffing them into one of her boots.

When she stood up, again, she saw that Legolas had spread out the blanket, and he had taken off his hose and his pantaloons.

She had almost forgotten how impossibly handsome he was, naked, in starlight.

"I say to you once more, look upon me, my Tauriel. Am I not more of a man than some stubby, stocky little Dwarf?"

He was smiling, now, not cold, or angry as he took her hand and they lay down together, on the soft green blanket, under the expansive arms of the ancient oak.

"I do not blame the night, or the moon, or the ale or the festival. I blame you, Tauriel. You have a way with leading me astray. And I am glad of it."

"What plans did you have in mind, Legolas?"

"They do not matter to me now. Whisper in my ear, my Tauriel, what you whispered to my brother. I want to hear you say it."

With her fists wound tightly in his hair the color of fine white wine and silver moonlight, Tauriel called out at the height of her passion, again and again.

Shouting Legolas' name to the stars.

The taste of that victory was very nearly as sweet to him as the taste of his little ginger girl.

A great lust took Legolas over, and for the first time in his life, he felt himself the heir or Morgan le Fay, the mother of the Hidden Folk and of the Sindari.

The Queen of the Wood and the Wild.

He was his father's heir, the heir to Morgan's magick, the shepherd of her forest, the son of the Stag King.

And the falseness of his spell of shame lifted from him.

"Legolas! You have antlers, too?"

"They have long been the source of my shame. But they will be no longer. Only when I am among men will I hide my birthright. I am the Prince of all that is of the Wood and the Wild. And someday, Little Wild One, you will be my Queen."

He and Tauriel passed the rest of the night, in consummation of that promise.

In the morning, Tauriel did not take over her shift in the jailhouse.

Dagnir didn't report it; he had a good idea of where she had got to.

But her absence was noted at breakfast, even if Legolas' wasn't; he had not been having his meals at table, these past few days.

But then the Elvenking found his son's bedchamber empty and his bed unslept in.

He took it upon himself to go looking for Legolas; even if he had stolen away with Tauriel, that was hours ago.

He looked along that dirt path they had walked a day or two before, and then followed a trail of bent grass and broken twigs to where he found his dignified heir lying on a blanket, wild-haired and naked, tangled up with his ginger-haired captain of the guards, both of them still sound asleep.

The girl slept in his arms, with her head resting on his chest, and the expression on her face was serene.

And even in his sleep, Legolas was smiling.

Thranduil carefully turned around and walked back the way he came.

"Good. Now I have the absolute allegiance of my Captain, and my son has regained his manhood, at last."

"Legolas, why? Why did you leave me in such a hurry, this morning? Why would you not talk to me all day?"

"Men say that my sister is the whore of the very Devil, and when they say it in front of me, they pay with a few broken teeth! But if they said it of you, Tauriel, I would agree! I took a vow, a solemn vow, on my honor, and you spun your web, and caught me in it! Taking me to our trysting place, when I'd had too much to drink!"

"What vow? I knew of no vow!"

"What would you care, even if you had! I know why my father doesn't want me to marry you! But he is a hypocrite for it, because even though he only sees as far as the tip of his cock, he condemns you! And you see nothing at all, you only grope your way along, led by ever twitch of your cunny! You have shamed us both!"

"Legolas!"

"Tears? Women like you have to learn not to cry! Go! Go and cry to your Dwarf! He doesn't know what kind of woman you are! Go and show him! Maybe to his kind, you are good enough! But I pity even him, if he is to besaddled with the likes of you!"

Tauriel ran from the King's household, down to the jail.

Legolas bit his lip, until it bled, so much did it pain him to wound Tauriel the way he had.

"Forgive me Tauriel, but this is the only way. The only way you can ever be mine. I would rather call a Dwarf my brother, than to never be able to call you my wife."

He went to the festival pavilion, to find his brother.

"Greenleaf! You look far too sober!"

"I am, Dagnir. And tonight, I need to become extremely drunk. Will you see to it that I get back to my bed?"

"Of course I will! What are brothers for?"

Tauriel was crying because she was confused as much as because she was upset.

She had spent the whole day and most of the evening weeping, off and on.

But she didn't want to show her sadness to Kili, so she tried to avoid him.

But he had the oak inner door open, and he was standing at the bars, watching her.

He grabbed her by her sleeve as she tried to hurry past him.

"Tauriel? Tauriel! You look as if you've been crying."

"Please, Kili. I can't talk to you, tonight!" Tauriel sobbed.

"You are crying! What happened? Can I help?"

Tauriel was going to say no, but she felt so wretched that she could not refuse the first kindness from a man that had been offered to her, all day.

She went over to Fili and Kili's cell, unlocked the door, locked it behind herself, slammed the oak door closed, and when they were alone, she sat down on the end of Kili's bed and put her face in her hands and cried bitter tears.

Kili sat beside her, and put his arm around her.

Quite literally, she cried on his shoulder.

"He has spurned me, again! But this time, with such cruelty! Acting as if I had done something wrong, when he took me off into the wood! He was so kind to me, by our tree, and said such sweet things to me. But this morning he was furious and brutal and cold! I am done, Kili, done with love! From now on, I'll be like Morgana! Many men may touch me, but none will touch my heart!" Tauriel sobbed.

"Don't say things like that, Tauriel! You still have me."

"But you don't know what I did!"

"I think I do."

"Then you must hate me for it!"

"How can I hate you for loving a man you have loved since before I was born? For trying to mend your fences with him? It doesn't seem odd to me; most women of my race have two suitors who become their two husbands. But I can hate him, for treating you this way! I've heard of girls thinking better of it, come the morning, and taking a man to task for it, making him feel as if he had shamed and wronged them. But never the other way around!"

"I should have stayed with you, Kili. You would never treat me with such contempt!"

"I wanted you to stay. I knew that you would have. But thought I would be taking advantage of you, if I didn't let you go."

"I was taken advantage of anyway, and then I was blamed for it!"

"Maybe you ought to try and speak to your Elf-prince…"

"…I will on a hot day in deepest Nifleheim! I am talking to the man I want to talk to. And I have locked myself away from the world with the man I want to be with! Kiss me again, Kili. I want you to."

"Then I would be taking advantage of you, as wretched as you are right now!"

"Kili, you have a fine and noble heart. But the festival is very nearly over. I know that any escape you might try would hinge on our festival as a distraction. So, you do not take advantage of me, Kili, rather we will take advantage of the little time we have together! I think it was you I wanted all along, I really do! Now kiss me, again, before I die of wanting you to! " Tauriel demanded.

Kili gave in to temptation, and holding Tauriel close against his chest, he kissed her, passionately.

Madness grabbed Tauriel by the throat.

And she grabbed Kili by his tunic.

Some of his buttons came undone, and Tauriel could not help but run her hands over that of Kili's naked chest that was suddenly exposed.

Now that was a man's chest.

Broad, muscular, and hairy.

She kissed him, just under his collarbone, breathing in his strong, unfamiliar, delicious scent.

Kili made a low, rumbling sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a snarl, and pressed her head against his chest.

Tauriel felt a terrible, insistent, ardent throb between her thighs that had nothing to do with romance, and little to do with love.

She wriggled her body around so that both of her legs were wrapped around Kili's thigh, and he put both of his hands on her arse, and pulled her closer such that the seam of her hose pressed against the ever more insistent bulge under his tunic at the laces of his breeches.

Lust.

It was lust, a welcome stranger after all these years, like a breath of fresh air into a room that has been shut up for too long.

And in that moment of her mad lust, the she-Elf squirmed against the Dwarf prince, and he kissed her again.

"Mahal, Tauriel, I am just a man, you can't kiss me like that, and rub your little ginger quim all over me cock, and torture me! If you're going to go, you had better go, right now!" Kili panted.

"I don't want to go! Especially not when you…when you say things like that! Tonight? Will you and your Company leave, tonight?"

Tauriel hardly recognized the breathy snarls coming from her throat as her own voice.

"Tomorrow. Why?"

"You know why! Do I have to say it to you?"

He made that snarling sound, pushed his tunic aside, and kissed her again, this time aggressively rubbing his…go on, think it, you know what it is, Tauriel, his cock, his big, heavy, hard, savage Dwarf warrior's warhammer cock against just what he knew was the right spot along that seam of her hose that…

No…

Oh no…

Tauriel dug her fingers into Kili's shoulders, and buried her face against his chest, biting her lip to keep in the sounds that wanted to fly out, as the unexpected jolt of pleasure almost embarrassed her, with its suddenness and keenness.

"Mahal, oh Mahal who made me, woman, a thousand years from now they will write poems about how I am going to fuck you, this night…you have to tell me!" Kili groaned.

"Kili…. I…I want you to take me. To make love to me…"

Say it, Tauriel.

For once in the 600 years of your dutiful life, do something wild.

Something Morgana would do.

Morgana would say it.

And Morgana would do it, too.

If you can't say it, then you can't do it.

A hundred and fifty three years is a long, long, long time.

When do you think your next chance is going to be?

She sat up in his lap, and pressed her lips against Kili's ear.

Because she couldn't say it loudly.

She just couldn't.

"Oh Kili, my own warrior-poet, I want you to fuck me! Make me forget that I was ever known to any man but you!" she whispered.

Desperately.

It was like waving a black flag in front of a warg.

Kili rolled Tauriel over on her back, and kissed her again, and then he reared up off of her, took off his tunic and threw it aside.

He was breathing in heavy, panting gasps through his parted lips, his nostrils flared and his eyes were alight with a greedy, mad hunger.

Kili started unlacing his breeches, and Tauriel realised, with another of those terrible, insistent, ardent throbs that if she didn't take her clothes off in a hurry that Kili was simply going to rip them from her body.

She almost hoped he would.

"Fuck!"

He said the word in an ugly fashion, and got up out of the bed, and started going through the pockets of his cast-off surcoat.

"What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

"No. I'm looking for my sheath! Son of an orc's warg… where the fuck did I put you?! Oh, Tauriel, I'm so sorry! But I didn't think…where is it? By all the gods, I hope I remembered to wash it!"

His what?

Dwarves used sheaths?

The last time they had lain together, Dragonkiller refused to bother with a sheath; she had refused to let him inside her, and satisfied him with her mouth, after he had satisfied her with his, but he had been drunk and she had been too yielding, and although he promised he would not spend himself in her, he had, and a very tense cycle from full moon to full moon passed her before her worst fears were not realized.

He was an Elf, the son of her king, the half-brother of the crown prince, her best-friend's brother, with whom she had grown up, and Dragonkiller had little enough regard for her to recklessly spend his seed in her and then fall asleep.

Even if he had apologized, and promised to acknowledge the child as his, with no shame, and help her raise it, what good would that do if he'd made her another brood mare in Thranduil's stable?

And this Dwarf, whom she had known for all of a month, had torn himself away from the height of his passion, mindful that he should get her with child, and then die, and leave her to shame.

"Kili, even if your Uncle was not a King, and your father not a prince, even if they were commoners, you would still be a prince, among all men, of all races!"

She wasn't sure if he heard her, but he found what he was looking for.

"There you are !"

Kili had a little blue velvet bag in his hand that he placed on the table as he got back into bed.

"You don't need it now? The sheath?"

Tauriel's hands were shaking so badly that she couldn't get under the sheets, but Kili didn't want her under the sheets, he wanted to see her body.

He got into bed, and closed the bed-curtains.

He grinned at her, mischieviously.

"No. Not yet. I don't think you would like the taste of the sheath, my Tauriel."

Tauriel blushed a deep red at the arousing implications of his reply.

But even so, not only was Tauriel naked, Kili was naked.

And he looked more naked than any man she had ever seen without his clothes.

The whorls of silky black hair on his thick, muscular thighs.

The luxuriant black beard from which, in defiance of her every fantasy of just how big a man might be, his savage warhammer sprung.

Morgana.

Shouting through the walls at Fili that she wanted him sunk into her cunny, and she shouted that word, and she shouted this too, up to his ten-gallon bollocks.

Tauriel could see what she meant.

"Oh, Kili, I think…I think I might…break apart…just looking at you!" she gasped.

Whether bravely or wantonly, Tauriel put one hand on his manhood, then the other, and she could not touch her thumb and her forefinger together.

But still the mighty crown wasn't covered by both her hands.

Both her hands.

Tauriel felt and heard a sob tear out of her throat.

"We're not going to break apart, my Tauriel. We'll come, together."

Directly—

-immediately, now-

did they proceed to the 69th page of the 12 Nights of the Sindari.

-one of the best pages-

Into such exotic waters she had never ventured with Legolas, and once with Dagnir, but only successfully for her, but with Kili, Tauriel even relished every moment that they squirmed and swore and jostled around, until they found the just right position…

…and lulled into a sweet, dirty trance of tongue and cock, they moved together, in the most sublime and yet the most extravagantly filthy position that Tauriel had ever imagined, and in the most sublime and yet the most extravagantly filthy way she might have imagined it.

Dirty and desperate, Tauriel's only regret once they were done,

-wiping her reddened lips swollen with passion upon the sheets—

Was that it was all over.

"Oh, Kili, that was a most wonderfully awful thing for us to do. It makes me feel positively filthy. But in the best possible way."

"It's meant to, I think." Kili replied.

He kissed her, and right on the lips, too, and just when she was thinking on how daring that was, how not even Dagnir would kiss her on the lips after she had done THAT to him, Kili reached out to the table for the little velvet bag.

"But Kili…" she said.

Lounging deep into the mattress, so casual with deep satisfaction.

"But Kili, aren't you already…finished?"

"Finished? How could I be finished when you asked me, begged me, so prettily to fuck you, and I haven't done it yet?"

"But you did." Tauriel replied.

Petulantly.

Another kiss, this one deeper and more languorous than the one before, and clearly meant to arouse her passions, once again.

"No, my little ginger wood nymph, I licked you. And stroked you. And fingered you. But I have not fucked you."

Those mere words made Tauriel shudder with pleasure, as she thought of the acts they described.

Kili leaned over her and kissed her again.

Twice

Two kisses, one on each nipple.

And a wink and a smile.

"Yet."

"Why do I like it so well when you say dirty words to me in Westron?"

"I only know that you like it. You like it all, don't you?"

I wish I could say dirty words back to him.

I want to, but I can't.

"I do. Kiss me like that, again, Kili. You do it so well."

The touch of his hands on her breasts was maddening, and Tauriel felt the way he suckled at her nipples as if he had his silver tongue between her legs, again.

But oh, oh no, the feeling of that silver tongue, painting quick little circles around each nipple; it was almost better.

Tauriel held Kili's head against her breast, absolutely helpless with lust.

"You have not yet, but I want you to!"

Try to say something dirty.

Go on, try.

"I want you, Kili, I need you!"

Well, that was a good start.

Oooo, lovely, though, it was a pleasure to take him in her arms as he mounted her, just to have him on top of her, and his big, strong body between her legs.

Arms around him too, and she wound her legs around his waist.

"Kiss me again, Kili, oh please."

"Anything you want."

He kissed her again.

Her lips were close to his ear again as he kissed her neck, his calloused fingertips rolling her nipples, the way he had rolled them between his lips.

Nimble silver tongue, too.

And his hair was all sweaty.

But her lips were close to his ear again.

And she could whisper it.

What did Anorloth say…

Oh yes, an appropriate animal.

"Do it now, my raging bull! I want your fine big cock I want ALL of it, every inch inside me and don't fuck me like I've never had a man before by all your savage gods I need a man a man like you…"

Kili had one hand against the wall and he slipped the other under her arse, and lifted her into his first thrust.

Tauriel had never been frigid, but she felt as though she must have been, before, compared to the way it made her feel.

"Like that?" he asked her.

"Like that! Just like that!" Tauriel cried.

She continued to hiss and sob and whisper a long, lovely, liberating stream of dirty words first in Kili's ear, and then, just whispering them while he did it, while he did, while he, oh, go on and think it Tauriel, while he fucked her good and hard with his…his cock, his big, heavy, hard, savage Dwarf warrior's warhammer cock…

…and for some reason, Kili put his hand over her mouth, but she was so close to the height of her passion, an absolute height she had never been brought to before, and all she could think of was that she hoped he wouldn't stop.

He took his hand away from her mouth.

"Don't stop, Kili, please don't stop, I'll die if you do…"

"You know I won't stop. Not if you come for me, my Tauriel. Give me all your lust in all its fury, squeeze my cock and hold me hard between your legs, scream for me and drown me in the ocean of your love!"

Now those were very sweet words, indeed, upon which to come and come and come your brains out, the way you have only done before in your half-remembered dreams.

"Good girl, now that's the way you fuck a man when you want him to come…"

Kili let out a long, low moan, and even though he had the sheath on, he pulled his cock out of her.

And Tauriel shocked herself, as the words flew from her lips, all unbidden.

"Take it off, and spill your seed on me, oh, how I want you to!"

Kili pulled the sheath off and she watched him, watched the look on his face, and watched his body jerk and twitch and stiffen and his cock too, as he spilled his seed on her breasts and her belly.

That, of itself was just, wonderful.

Kili rolled over onto his back.

"Don't move. I think I can reach it from here."

He kissed her, quickly, and reached for the cloth on the nightstand.

He dipped the cloth from the nightstand into the basin of water, and cleaned her up with one end, and dried her off with the other.

He tidied himself up a bit, too, and put the cloth back, and then they were under the blankets and she was in his arms.

For a long time, neither of them spoke, or dared even move.

"You have such a strange look on your face, Tauriel."

"As if I were surprised?"

"Yes."

"I am surprised, I know it sounds trite, but I've never felt that way before, with a man. I always thought, well, there was only so much a man could do for you, and then there was, well…"

"What?"

"I should not say. But I suppose, now that we are lovers…well, what you could do for yourself, because you know your own body better than anyone does. But I was wrong."

"I can solve that mystery for you. I always heard that the men of your race were beautiful and cold, but now that I'm among them, I can see that rather, they are vain and conceited, and they take their women for granted. Now, among my race, vanity and conceit is considered unmanly in men, and unbearable in women. And we Dwarrows don't take women for granted, because we have precious few of them. If a man wants to hold onto a woman, he had better be a good listener, a good provider, a good friend, and a fookin' satyr of a lover, or she'll find someone else. That's just the way it is for us. Just like Elf men think they're so grand and so pretty and so far above the rest of the world that they imagine their women swoon at the sight of them, let alone the touch."

"What about our King?"

"Well, he knows he's not pretty, even if he is the King. I'll bet when he was a young man, before he learned to cover those scars, he had to work to find himself a woman. And you don't forget how, do you?"

"No. You don't. I'll go, in a moment. I know that I must."

"Stay, Tauriel. Until Fili comes back. He'll wake us."

"I can't. But tell me, Kili, why did you put your hand over my mouth?"

"You were screaming very dirty words at the top of your lungs in common Westron! I didn't want them all to hear you, and know what we've been up to."

"I was? Well, did you like it?"

"Yes."

One more kiss and then?

…uh-oh!...

Beautiful oblivion.

As usual, Bombur was snoring and Dwalin was snoring, but other than that it was quiet in the jailhouse.

But when Fili got to his cell, the door was wide open.

And the night before the escape, too!

Well, better late than never, little brother.

Quietly, he closed it.

And made a face, waving his hand under his nose.

"Durin's beard, it smells like a Breeland whorehouse in here!" he muttered.

There were clothes all over the floor.

Fili gathered Kili's up, and shoved them under the bed.

Tauriel's he put under his arm.

A skinny little Elvin foot stuck out from the bed-curtains, and, holding in a large laugh, Fili pulled on it.

"Tauriel? Tauriel! Time to go home to your own bed, love."

He threw her clothes through the curtain and stood by the door, looking out into the night, as his jailer and his brother whispered and swore and fumbled around, getting her dressed.

On wobbly legs, Thranduil's brave Captain made her way to the cell door.

"How do I look?" she asked Fili.

"Like you've thrown on your clothes in the dark at three in the morning after you've just had your brains fucked out all night. Lock us in, and take the back stairs, hurry up and get to your room and washed up and into bed before anyone's the wiser. Loki's fire, Tauriel, you are a pretty girl!"

There was something about a pretty girl, all flushed and tumbled and screwed into a state of sleepy, absolute satisfaction.

Something that kept Fili from ever getting a wink of sleep when he went to bed with a woman.

You could do it to her all over again, when she was in that state, no matter how hard you'd had to work to win her favors, and she'd just put her arms and her legs around you, and moan and coo and sigh.

Moan and coo and sigh and spurt all over your balls.

Suddenly, Fili wasn't tired, and his tightened up, ready to swing back into action.

He put both his hands on the side of her face.

"Don't." Tauriel said, her voice lacking conviction.

"And you really mean that, do you? I know you don't. It's all the same, love, I'm Kili's brother, after all. I wouldn't mind keeping you in the family. But, my little brother, he truly loves you. Or else I would. Right now. And we both know that you wouldn't stop me. " Fili told her.

He couldn't resist, he kissed Tauriel full on the lips, and when she turned to leave he smacked her on the arse.

She was in too much of a happy daze to notice which brother was bidding her a fond goodbye, and upon checking on Kili, Fili discovered that he was all in.

He got the basin from the washstand, and the washrag and the towel, pulled the covers off of Kili, washed him down, rolled him over, washed him down on the other side, dried him off, rolled him back over and dried him off again, then put the covers over him.

"You'll be alright, little brother. You just overdid it a bit. Drink the rest of this ale, I'll bet you're thirsty. And my mug, too. So, when's our wedding?"

"If you touch her, I'll chop your cock off with a butter knife."

"Oho, you are in love! Well, our Uncle's married to an Elf, he's got nothing to say to you."

"What about Morgana?"

"We've made other arrangements, Morgana and I. No, if we survive this, I am going to marry a Took."

"Who?"

"What do you mean, who? How many Tooks do I have two daughters and a son with? Bilbo's younger cousin, Marigold Brandybuck, of course. I'm going to make an honest woman of her, and give Ivy and Holly and Thrain my name. If you think Elves are something, forget it. No matter where your roam, and in what corner of Middle Earth you look, there's no woman as hot or as fine as a Tuckborough Took. How's that for fookin' poetry?"

"But do you love her?"

"We've got three children, little brother. Do you suppose I don't?"

He laughed at his younger brother's look of confusion.

"Durin's short and curly beard, you really don't understand anything, do you, Kili? Get some sleep, anyway. You've earned it."

Fili took off his robe, washed up, and went to bed.

Thorin slept lightly, and when he heard running feet along the corridor, he woke up.

He crept out of Anorloth's bed, and opened the door of the bedchamber.

There was Captain Tauriel, her hair all loose and flying behind her, running down the corridor, barefoot, with her boots in her hands.

Thorin chuckled, as he shook his head and shut the door.

"What is it, Thorin?"Anorloth asked.

"Nothing. Only that I would not want to be young and stupid, again. Not for all the gold in all the undiscovered mines of Middle Earth." Thorin said, as he got back into bed.

"Thorin, you will return to me, won't you?"

"Do you think a wurm can kill me, Ani? After the life I've had? I will see that foul creature dead, and I will piss in his eyes as he sinks into the long lake. But before he's submerged, I'll have you, knees up and knickers down, on his back, before his blood has gone cold in his veins. And that very night, you will enter the halls of Erebor, as its Queen."

"And you will have the satisfaction of entering your Queen, in the halls of Erebor, isn't that so?"

"Do you think your brother would dare to try and beat me back to the dungeons, with an axe-handle, if I was to make you scream twice as loud as Fili made Morgana?"

"You want to give the old ponce something to think on, as you make your escape? I think it's a fine plan. Come closer, and we'll put it into action."

Legolas had stayed up late, sitting in the shadows of the Elvenking's parlor, waiting for Tauriel.

But he let her pass him, in the dark, without speaking.

He knew, when he saw her, that his unexplained and undeserved cruelty had driven her into the Dwarf's arms.

But that did not break Legolas, or convince him that all was lost.

It made his resolve all the stronger.

Everything was going according to his plan.

If Tauriel married a Dwarf, she would be considered by the Dwarves to be one of them.

Under their laws, because there were so few women, a woman was permitted to be married to two men.

And if Tauriel was a married woman, in the shoes of a married Dwarf woman, and she wanted to marry him, then what did the Elvenking have to say about her choice?

Especially if, as Legolas suspected, Thorin Oakenshield would regain his kingdom, and he and Thranduil would be allies again.

Legolas had observed the two Kings, and they were scarcely able, despite the grievances between them, to keep up their bitter enmity while in each other's company.

They would be glad, for more than one reason, to have their friendship and their alliance renewed, and if Thranduil was to balk at Legolas marrying the same woman as Kili had, Thorin would definitely consider it an insult.

Legolas would have his father over a barrel.

For the first time in 400 years, faint hope sprang anew in Legolas' heart.

And, for truly he was the son of Thranduil, quietly, patiently, methodically, the Elf-prince began to plot.

And plan.

And scheme.

What, he asked himself, would be my father's next move?

Even though it was ridiculous of her, Tauriel hid herself under the foam on the surface of her tub, when Legolas burst into the bathroom she shared with Morgana and Dagnir.

"Legolas, you have to leave! At once! I am not dressed!"

He sat down, beside the tub.

"I was hoping you would not be. I came to beg for your forgiveness."

"You're drunk, are you not?"

"Very. But even if I were sober, I would be contrite. I know that I have been a fool, and driven you into the arms of another. But there is no life for me, without your love. Forgive me, Tauriel! As you said, there is no law of our people that says you must forsake your love for one man, to love another."

"But Legolas, you hate Dwarves!"

"I do not hate Thalin, do I? I will think on your prince as Thalin's cousin. I will get used to it, with time. I must!"

Said Legolas in a brave and stalwart tone.

"Well, right now, you must go back to your room! I am tired and I want to go to bed and get some sleep."

"Tired? Your cheeks are flushed, your breath is short, and there is hellfire in your eyes. I believe you want to go back to bed, but not that you would sleep. And I am not tired, at all. Which is all your fault. Warriors who awaken sleeping dragons must learn to contend with fire."

Tauriel got out of the bath, and hurriedly wrapped herself in a large towel.

"You're up to something, Legolas. I know you. "

He took the towel from her with one arm and pulled her against his chest with the other.

"I am up to many things, my Tauriel. Time to get you to your bed."

"But I have guard duty in the morning."

"Dagnir will switch shifts with you. I have already asked him. Are you through protesting, now?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Are you going to tell me what you're plotting and scheming about, or do I have to find out?"

Legolas only smiled.

He put the towel around Tauriel again, picked her up, and carried her out of the bathroom.

(Author's Note: Oho, it seems everyone is up to something! Legolas has a scheme, Thranduil has his own motives, Thorin and Company are planning an escape with Anorloth and Thalin, and Bilbo is keeping an eye on those barrels while Dagnir moves the Dwarves' weapons into place. And that valiant rascal and one-man armoury, Fili, he's trying to insert himself into the situation with Tauriel, wherever he can fit in. It seems as though the only people who don't have a plot afoot are Kili and Tauriel. They're in love. And they DID, didn't they? The question is, do the best laid plans of Dwarves and Elves often go astray? Find out in the next chapter, in which, among other things, we will find out about all the work Bilbo's been at while all this hanky-panky was going on.)