A/N: Another reminder that story is an AU from all the rest. It picks up after chapter 9 of "Thorin's Defeat" and take an absolutely different turn and reboots Wren's reality when hurt and devastated by Thorin's neglect our red haired healer leaves the King after four years in Erebor, before the betrothal, before children, and meets Amrod on the road. Faced with her visions of the possible future with the Gondorian, Wren makes one choice differently and changes her destiny. Or does she?

You leave your skirt on, throw a shawl over your shoulders, hiding the straps of the undertunic, and barefoot you quietly walk into the corridor and gently knock at his door. There is silence behind it, and you carefully turn the handle. You enter and lock the door behind you. The room is dark, and you see his form on the bed, the white of the bandages gleaming in the moonlight.

You make a few tentative steps towards him, and you can hear his breathing change. Your eyes are now accustomed to the dimness of the room, and you see his face. The eyes are open, features relaxed, there is a soft smile on his lips. You come closer and stop in front of his bed. He stretches his hand towards you, and you place your fingers in his.

His thumb slips on the center of your palm in a familiar caress, and you cross the last gap between you two. You press one knee into the sheets, and you understand that is your last chance to leave. You pull the shawl off your shoulder with another hand, and his eyes fall on the gauzy bodice of the undertunic.

You take your hand out of his and unbutton your skirt at the back. You push it down and step out of the circle of fabric on the floor. He is still not moving, his hand half-raised in the air where you left it, and you take it, gently pulling him to sit up. At the same time you sit down and tuck your feet under yourself. The floor is cold.

His long narrow hand lies on the side of your face, and you press your cheek into his palm, closing your eyes. "Alfirin…" The voice is soft and low. You open your eyes and smile to him.

"You said I should come when I am certain I will not regret it in the morning…" His eyes are studying your face. You cup his face with your hand, mirroring his gesture. "I will not..."

His lips finally touch yours, your breaths mix, warm and fresh, his lips soft and loving. Your other hand lies on his ribs, and you are mesmerized by the smoothness of his skin. He is warm, but not scorching, friendly gentle warmth, and his hand slides into your hair, cups the back of your head, tilts it where he wants you, your lips, and then your throat, where he presses long hypnotic kisses.

His movements are controlled, experienced, but no less passionate. You push your hands into the chestnut curls, thick, silky, and suddenly grab handfuls of his strands. He tears his mouth from yours and places a small gentle kiss near your ear. "Gentle, Alfirin,we have nowhere to hurry to…"

You sigh and slide your palms on the wide shoulders, enjoying the skin and and the shiver that runs through him. "Allow me to undress you, Alfirin..." You look into his eyes, they are dark with lust but there is a smile dancing in them. You nod, and he pulls you to him. Somehow he manages to place you exactly where he needs you, without much coercing.

You are kneeling on the bed, your legs on the two sides of his lower half, a cover still between your bodies. His face is in front of your breasts, and he smirks. Then he picks up the hem of your undertunic and in a slow smooth movement he takes it off you. Your breasts are bare in front of him, and your hands twitch. You gulp and feel your cheeks burning, the pink undoubtedly spreading lower, flooding your whole body.

His large arms lie on your shoulder blades, and he tilts his head and places a kiss on your ribs. "Pity, it is night, I would like to see the blush surely blooming on your skin… Is your whole skin flushed right now, my flower?" You drop your head back, reveling in his slow sensual kisses on your skin. The lips slide between the breasts, and then his large palm on your back guides your upper body, and he is kissing your collar bones.

You are keeling, and when his tongue dives in the hollow between your clavicles, you cannot keep your body straight anymore. You are falling and press your hands in the headboard on the sides of his head. His lips are on the tops of your breasts and then a palm slides down your back and pushes your drawers off down. They fall and pool around your knees. You jerk, and then his long fingers runs between your buttocks, and he dips one finger inside you, curls it and pushes it deep into your wet entrance. You moan throatily and arch your back.

Everything is in the wrong order, that is not how you like it to proceed. But again, nothing is ever with Amrod. You shift your hips, and his finger slides out of you. You bite your lower lip and slowly putting your feet on the sheets you get up over him. You can see eyes widen and a strange small smile plays on his lips. He is shameless studying your wet curls and the curves of your inner thighs. You take off your undergarments and lower yourself on him again. The fabric of the cover rubs your sensitive folds.

You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. He embraces you in return, now he is mirroring your gestures. His mouth is experienced, his tongue caressing yours, making it dance, and you moan into his mouth.

"I would like to taste you, Alfirin," he is murmuring in your ear, and it is not a question. You push away from him and stare in his eyes. And then you move and lie on the bed on your back, your knees spread widely, and he climbs from under the covers. He is bare, and you take a deep breath and close your eyes.

You feel his lips on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, he is tasting the skin there in open mouthed kisses, and then you feel his breath on your folds. The tip of his nose touches your clit, and you jump up. "Have you ever been tasted here, Alfirin?" You shake your head, you have no voice.

He presses his open mouth to your sex, and then he pushes his tongue into you. You moan and open up more. He is tenderly sucking with his whole mouth, while his tongue is swirling around the entrance. You arch your back and grab handfuls of the sheets. Your feel his hands slide under yours, and your fingers intertwine. He tilts his head and the tongue swirls around your labiae in a wider circle. And them he sharply closes his lips over your clit and gives it a forceful suck. The pleasure coiling in your lower stomach explodes, and you arch in the last thrashing of rapture, your shoulder blades lifting in the air, low raspy moan bursting out of your open mouth.

You fall back into the sheets. You are breathing heavily, but to your own disbelief you are not entirely satisfied. He is lazily kissing on your thigh, just above the knees, and you push your hips down, towards his mouth. "Would you like some more, Alfirin?" You moan, astounded by your own lustfulness, and he chuckles.

He released one of your hands, and his long finger pushes inside you. "You might need a bit more this time, my flower," your walls clench around his digit, and he slowly licks across your clit. "You are so responsive, Alfirin, you must be starved..." You moan and push yourself on his finger. He curls it and the pulp of it is exploring your inner walls. He starts pumping it in and out, slowly at first, and then, adding the second one, he speeds up. You are clenching your walls, looking for more contact, and he whispers, "Do not force it, Alfirin. Just enjoy these movements, I will take care of you." You relax and feel the thumb of his other hand rub your clit. He is gentle, and then he is carefully pulling your skin, exposing the sensitive bud. You feel his mouth of it, his tongue presses to it, hot and firm, and he is twirling it in regular steady circles. At the same time he curls up his fingers, pressing at the very spot inside you and mimics the movement of his tongue. The double swirling erupts inside you in a wave of shocking climax. Your body is convulsing, and loud screams burst out of you. You are sobbing, his name on your lips, and he gently pulls out his fingers. And then his warm palm covers your folds, and you moan. Somehow it feels as if he locked the pleasure inside you, not letting it dissipate, and you stretch on the bed, pressing your thighs together, his palm between your legs.

He puts his head on your leg, his other hand tenderly stroking your hip, affectionate but not lustful, a perfect caress while you are still trembling after the violent release. You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling. "I could never return such favour," you are too sated to be upset about it. He kisses your hipbone and moves slightly higher. You look into his laughing eyes. "It is not a competition, Alfirin. Seeing you like this is the biggest pleasure," he picks up your hand and kisses your knuckles.

You give him a lookover and lift a sarcastic brow, "That is a complete and utter poppycock, honourable ranger. Obviously, you expect some pleasures for yourself." He laughs, open mouthed merriment, wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, the mop of coffee coloured curls bouncing. And then he catches your mouth and pulls you to himself. He seems less composed, less in control now. You embrace him, and he slides higher, aligning your bodies.

"I do want something for myself, Alfirin," the voice is smoky and fruity. "And what would it be, honourable sir?" "I would like you to start using my name instead of all these respectful monikers," he presses a tender kiss to your jaw. "But I did, just a few moment ago," you nip his ear, "I screamed it several times, to be precise." He chuckles into your neck.

You push him away and look him in the eyes. They are candid, honest, and with all possible clarity you recognize the emotion splashing in them "Make love to me, Amrod," he smiles and finds your lips. He rolls you over and presses you into sheets. You spread your legs, and one of his palms slides under your knee. You let him guide your leg around his waist, and then lift another one, crossing them on his buttocks, and he pushes into you.

He is not exceptionally thick, but long, his movements forceful, confident. He pushes higher, rolls his hips into you, and you understand there is more than enough. You moan and splay your palms on his back. He is supporting himself on his elbows, his forearms under your shoulders, your lips locked in sensual neverending caresses, and you two are moving together, you reciprocate, he lets you, again and again, in smooth rocking movements, you are merging and intertwining, and cross the border of pleasure together, united and joyful. His seed spills into you, and you are ready to accept it, in a warm bliss of your own release.

He is tenderly kissing your face, and then presses his forehead to yours. "I love you, Alfirin, forever." You open your eyes and meet his gaze. You are searching your mind, and then the answer comes. "Amrod, I…"