Chapter 7

"Oh Elora I am sorry," Legolas said at last.

"Sorry for what?" she inquired.

He shifted his weight to lie on his side, still fully entrenched inside her. "I promised to show you the Elvin ways of love, but I could not control my lust. This should have lasted much longer."

Elora's jaw gaped in disbelief.

"I know. I was no better then some rutting adolescent."

Elora cut him off with a kiss. "You, my Prince, have touched me as no other has done before, hurried or not. Besides, we have all night to explore the wonders of Elvin love."

He smiled at her, relief clearly evident on his beautiful face. She caressed his cheek as he withdrew from her. A small groan of disappointment bubbled out from her mouth at the loss of his body. He laughed softly when she gathered him into her arms. Elora shivered uncontrollably as Legolas continued to whisper words she'd never heard before in her ear. For all she knew, he could have been listing off the menu of that night's meal, but it sounded heavenly. She wove her fingers into his hair and brought his mouth to hers for a kiss.

"What is the elvish word for mouth?" she asked, her fingertips lightly tracing the outline of his lips.

"Anto," he replied, smiling. She repeated it as he leaned in and kissed her again.

"Tongue?" she asked, quickly licking the tip of his nose.

"Lam," he laughed, doing the same to her nose. "Nem."


He murmured yes then one by one he named a part of her face and then place a kiss on it. He fanned out her hair around her head, inhaling the fragrance left behind by the scented oil. "Laws," he sighed, burying his nose in the tresses.

"Laws," she said, similarly breathing in the scent of his hair.

He went to her neck, pressing his nose into the sensitive pulse point: "iaeth." She trembled deliciously. He continued to her chest, defining first the breasts then the nipples. He spent some time on these "definitions," moving from one side to the other, feeding on the flesh like a hungry child. He finally moved to place a kiss in the place between her breasts saying: "tum."

Elora's eyes blinked open and she looked at him curiously. "They have a word in Elvish for that part of a woman's body?"

Legolas raised his head and tried to hide his amusement. "Well no, it means deep valley. I just thought it was appropriate."

The bed shook with their laughter. Elora placed her hand flat on his chest, feeling the life pumping there.

"Hun," he said quietly.

"Hun," she repeated, noting how her own pulse slowed to meet his.

Legolas bestowed a sweet kiss on her lips before settling his head on her chest. She was content to lie there, combing her fingers through his hair while he gently caressed her body. It was several minutes before either of them spoke.

"Mortal women are different from she-elves," he commented off-handedly, lacing his fingers with hers.

"Different how?"

"Well.fatter," he replied.

She stopped smoothing his hair. "Fatter?"

The tinge of annoyance in her voice prompted him to look at her. "No.not fatter," he faltered. "What I meant was that she-elves are generally lithe and slender and mortal women are big." He stopped short seeing her eyebrow cock in defiance.

"Are you saying you find me unattractive?" she challenged.

"No, no, this is coming out all wrong," he shook his head quickly. "What I meant to say was that it is because you are nothing like a she-elf. It is your differences: the curves of your body, the suppleness of your skin that is what draws me to you. It intoxicates me. I am powerless to resist it." He was going quite pink at the tips of his delicate ears and Elora couldn't resist gently tugging on them.

"Show me," she suggested, a smirk pulling at her lips.


The insistent chirping of the birds who lived in the garden pierced through the warm and heavy slumber Elora was enjoying. They lay together, the woman and the Prince, a jumble of arms and legs, the dawn filtering through the heavy curtains at the windows. Sighing softly, she opened her eyes. She beheld something few have seen, a sleeping elf. A self-satisfied smile crept across her face. She had exhausted him! And with good reason, the elves never did anything hurried, and Legolas was a firm practitioner in the traditions of his people. He was a magnificent tutor and she, an insatiable student. Slowly, achingly, deliciously slowly he took her again and again. Because of his incredible stamina he was able to remain hard while bringing Elora to her woman's joy many times. When he did achieve his final release, they were both struck speechless by the intensity of it. Elora felt her body crying out to his. His responded in kind and together they created a light that outshone the dying candles. It was something Elora would never forget.

Her body reacted quickly to the memory of their earlier activities. Already the heat had begun to churn in her stomach. She reached over and gently brushed an errand strand of golden hair back from Legolas's forehead. His normally impeccable appearance was uncharacteristically disheveled and she believed he never looked more beautiful then at that moment. She wanted more of what they had experienced last night but the day was breaking and there were things to be done. She could enjoy only a few more blissful moments there with him. Moving slowly, she enfolded herself into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder.

"If you are requesting another session, rwalae, I require further rest," Legolas teased, his voice heavy with sleep.

Elora giggled. "Would that we could, Prince," she replied, raising her head to look at him, "but the new day has begun, the house stirs and I have duties to fulfill."

His hand cupped her warm cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. It will never be enough, she thought. One night, one month, one lifetime will never be enough to spend with this amazing being. But for now it had to be as the sounds of the servants rustling about on the lower floors reminded Elora it was high time she was out of bed.

"Come Master Elf, let us feed you a grand breakfast before you return to the King with reports that I was a well-behaved charge, and only bite, when requested to do so." She smirked saucily before rolling away from him.

Legolas laughed as he stretched out the fatigue from his lithe body. Elora wisely averted her eyes from the bed, donning her robe and going to the wash basin. She could hear him as he moved about the room, dressing in his hastily discarded clothes.

"Elora?" he called to her.

She was drying her face with a towel when she turned to see him standing in the center of the room, one boot on. "Yes?"

"I cannot seem to find my other boot," he said, pointedly.

Elora blushed as she looked for the missing footwear. She saw it, peaking out from under the dislodged bedclothes. Retrieving it, she walked it over to him. His face was bright with humor as he took it from her outstretched hand. Before she could drop her arm, he grabbed it and pulled her to him for a kiss.

Her knees went weak and her pulse raced. "You are absolutely certain elves cannot stop time?"

The time had come and she could no longer delay the inevitable. Elora and her father stood with Legolas as the groom lead Legolas's horse out from the stable.

"Well Prince, I am much in your debt for what you have done for me and Elora," Elorihm said, offering his hand to the elf.

"There is no debt between us, Lord," Legolas replied with a warm smile. "You have repaid in full with your hospitality and companionship."

"In any event, you will always have a place of honor here in our house. Good journey," Elorihm saluted and then turned and slowly made his way into the keep.

Now alone, Elora struggled to keep her emotions in check. Legolas came to her and placed on hand on his heart, the other on her cheek, an Elvish gesture. Elora did likewise, peering into those eyes of crystalline blue for what could be the last time.

"Until we meet again, Elora, daughter of Elorihm," he said softly.

"Until that time, Legolas, son of Thranduil, of the Woodland Realm," she returned, choking back the rush of tears that came unbidden.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers momentarily before gracefully backing away from her and leaping up onto his horse. She watched him ride out through the main gates and across the valley until he was gone from sight. With a heavy sigh, she went inside.

She found her father at the window, obviously having seen what transpired between her and Legolas.

"Elora, you know I have turned a blind eye to your dalliances," her father began. Elora groaned, anticipating a cautionary word from him. "I have said nothing because in the past you have kept them discreet. But this," his hand came to rest on her arm, "this is unacceptable."

Elora's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Father what are you saying? Legolas is our friend."

"Yes, yes, he is a Prince among Elves. But he is just that, an elf." His fingers gripped her wrist. "Heed me daughter; do not pursue this sordid affair any further. Women go with men and elves with..well you know what I mean."

Elora's heart sank in her chest. "I do know what you mean Father. He's good enough to have at your table, but not in your daughter's bed." There was ice in her voice.

"Elora!" he barked. "You do not know how such things are seen by others. Trust in me and you will avoid a lifetime of shame and heartache."

"You need not concern yourself, Father. The gods alone know when I shall see him again, if ever."

"Normally I'd say leave it in their hands, but I think in this case, you'd be better off listening to your old father and leave that elf be."

Elora couldn't take any more of her father's "advice" and she sought the solace of her chamber. Something about the room felt different when she entered it. It seemed brighter perhaps. Or maybe she was just wishing it were so because of what happened there the night before. At any rate, she felt comforted by the spirit he left in his wake.

She lay down on the bed, starring at the ceiling. Her father's words ran rampant through her head, taunting her, torturing her. Women go with men and elves with. He was right. Even Middle Earth had its prejudices. But still, how can two beings share what she and Legolas did and have it be wrong? No, she refused to believe that. The gods are not that cruel. She reached out to grasp a pillow when her fingers brushed against something cold underneath. Throwing the pillow aside she gasped at the sight of his belt, hidden among the linens. Clutching it, she held it to her chest.

We will meet again, Prince Legolas. By the Valar, we'll show them all!

The End