
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1197417.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      The_Hobbit_(Jackson_Movies)
  Relationship:
      Tauriel/Thranduil, Tauriel_&_Thranduil, Legolas_Greenleaf_&_Tauriel,
      Ambiguous_or_Implied_Relationship(s)
  Character:
      Tauriel, Young_Tauriel_-_Character, Thranduil, Legolas_Greenleaf
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Alternate_Universe_-_Age_Changes,
      Young_Tauriel, Dark_Fantasy, Anal_Sex, Sex, Rough_Sex, dont_read_if_you
      dont_like_sex_-_i_got_carried_away_sorry
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-17 Completed: 2014-03-01 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 4467
****** Blonde Eternity ******
by Dark_Destrine
Summary
     Here you are, my blonde eternity, sleeping like a giant next to me.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
                            An Elfling Obsession ~
Here you are, my blonde eternity, sleeping like a giant next to me. You stir in
 you dreams, muttering words I did not hear. So, turning, you stretch your arm
     near to mine. Kissing your porcelain hand, I am certain I am in love.
Where my breasts will all too soon begin, your hand slips snake-like to caress
my soft skin. You, eighty times my age and more, I can not help but smile. Like
you are young again and I am not a child. Still I, your lover, will not seek to
            question why. It is, it is, quite natural in our eyes.
                                        
===============================================================================
 
The Elvenking’s guards and his son, Legolas, found a young elf-child wandering
through Greenwood. With green eyes and long, red-hair cascading the waif, she
said she had no name and nor did she know her age, but she was adequately
educated in Westron and Sindarin. After some scrutinizing, they estimated her
to be -- at the most -- 60 years old; being equivalent to the size of an
adolescent mortal. It had been an age since a child had walked the Forest and
halls of Mirkwood, and so the Woodelves saw it incumbent to take her in, as one
their own of course.
‘Tauriel. We shall name her Tauriel’ - Legolas apprised his kin - ‘Daughter of
                                  the Forest’
The elfling had not yet met the King of Mirkwood, but she had already saw him
with her prying green eyes, and it was then an obsession began to flourish. The
first time she laid eyes on him, Tauriel hid behind pillars and trunks of the
emerging trees and watched in awe as the majestic King strolled through his
halls. He would walk with his hands clasped behind his back. He was usually
attired in a long silver cloak that matched the hair flowing over his broad
shoulders, and he wore a crown curving aback his head.
 ‘Thranduil’ - she would whisper in the hopes that he would hear, but he never
                                     did.
Despite watching him from a great distance, the young elf could see that he was
over flowing with dominance. And even if she only caught a glimpse of their
superior, the young Tauriel would giggle and clap her hands with delight. Valar
only knows what the effects would be once the introductions were made. The
naive elfling held a fascination over the King. And, although she was unsure of
what, the juvenile elf knew that she desired something from him - something
that only he can fulfil her satisfaction with.
                ‘Legolas?‘ - she called, in a sing-song voice.
The prince, equally as handsome as his father, was sitting at his workstation
assembling arrows. He froze in his actions, lifting only his blue eyes and
found the immature elf pressed up against his desk. Sighing, he returned his
gaze to carry on with his task. “Yes, Tauriel, what is it?”
“Well,” she pressed her hands down onto the desk and leant her weight onto
them, lifting her feet off the ground. “Iwas wondering,” the elfling started to
kick into the counter.
“Stop that,” the prince demanded.
Huffing, she pushed herself back from the worktop and continued with her
enquiry, “I was wondering if Thranduil-”
Legolas’ head snapped up and he frowned at the young elf, forcing her to cut
her sentence short. “Thranduil?” he questions.
“Yes, Thranduil - your father?” Tauriel raised her eyebrows in concern,
wondering how it was possible for the blonde prince to forget who Thranduilwas.
“It’s, ‘my Lord,’”he lowered his head to persist with his arrow making.
She rolled her emerald eyes at him, “alright, then. I was wondering if your
Lord-”
Yet again, she was cut off by the prince who exhaled an exasperated sigh. He
slammed his tools into the wooden surface and glared up at the red-head. “No.
He is your Lord - your king,” he tells her, crossly.
“But, how is he my Lord?I haven’t even met him yet,”she furrowed her eyebrows
in confusion. “Speaking of which; when can I meet him?” she added on quickly,
trying to stifle a smile.
“Soon. Now, what was your initial enquiry?” he said with an unconcerned tone in
his voice. Legolas rose from his seat and made way to exit the workroom.
“For the last time - and please don’t interrupt me - I was wondering if my Lord
will accept my request for betrothal?” she followed him out of the room and
into the vast space of the Mirkwood halls that never ceased to fascinate her.
“Betrothal?” suddenly interested, the prince looked down at her with a raised
eyebrow as they walked together. The elfling innocently nodded back at the
blonde. “Whom to?”
“Well, to him, of course,” she pictured her young self being wed to the king
and, after trying to hold back, Tauriel beamed a great smile - forming the most
darling dimples in her freckled cheeks.
Legolas reminded himself that she was only an elf-child, who still had yet more
to learn, and chuckled at her illusory idea. “I thought you hadn’t met him,
yet?”
“I haven’t,“ she scowled, and felt herself blush a deep shade of red as Legolas
laughed at her.
“Then how…” the prince halted in his footsteps and turned on his heels to face
her. “Tauriel, what have you done?” he demanded. Afraid of the ridiculous
answer he was going to hear, he regretted asking her immediately.
She started to giggle. “I sent him a letter with Master Galion. Only, Thran-
sorry... my Lordhas not yet replied,” her smile faded into a sulky pout.
“A letter!?” Alarmed, a wide-eyed Legolas bolted down the halls on a mission to
find the butler. “Stay right where you are! I must stop him!” the prince called
out, as he sprinted soundlessly into the distance, soon disappearing round a
corner.
“Stop who?” Tauriel heard the deep, sensual voice coming from behind her. Upon
hearing it, it sent a carnal jolt through her body. She slowly turned and
discovered him;standing and staring in the direction which his son ran off in
to. As he glanced down at her, with his piercing blue eyes penetrating hers,
shivers started to shoot down the immature elf‘s spine. After finding no words
to respond to her King, he turned his back and proceeded to walk away.
“Thranduil!” she cursed herself and slapped a hand across her mouth to prevent
any more words from forcing their way out. He didn’t so much as turn around
when he heard her; he only glanced over his shoulder, which enticed the elfling
even more. She pranced after him as he so elegantly sauntered down his domain.
“Forgive me, my Lord! I meant to say ‘my Lord’”, she babbled nervously at his
side once she caught up with him. Still, he does not look at her.
           Please, just speak with me - she begged him in her mind. 
“Umm… my Lord? Did y-”
“Your name, child?” he rudely interrupted. But Tauriel did not care for that.
In fact, she almost squealed with delight when he addressed her, noticed her.
“T-t-tauriel?” she stammered and swallowed thickly, still finding it hard to
believe that she was finally speaking with her obsession. He smirked and a puff
of amusement flared out of his nostrils. His demeanour, his voice, his presence
--hiseverything-- made the elfling weak at the knees. She looked around her
suspiciously as he picked up his pace. They were most definitely alone, and so
she bounced and skipped beside him, eyes wide in wonder. “Did you receive my
letter?” she asked enthusiastically.
“Hmm,“ he quirked an eyebrow and looked down at her, with only his adamantine
blue eyes, before averting his gaze ahead. “And, what is your age?”
“Sixty!” she chirped with a little spin. “No, seventy. Eighty! Ninety?” she
rhymed off numbers after receiving no acknowledgement; assumed he did not like
little elflings. She diverted her attention to his arms, mesmerized by their
muscles protruding from under the silver sleeves. Tauriel felt a tingling
sensation in the pit of her belly as she imagined the King’s arms wrapped
around her slender body while embracing her. Noticing the change in her
breathing he glanced down at her with a throaty chuckle, which made her pause
in her tracks. As he left her behind, Thranduil looked back and flashed Tauriel
a wickedly charming grin.　
          All in good time, little one. I know what it is you crave.
                                        
===============================================================================
                                        
                                        
***** Chapter 2 *****
I faded into the background as the party took hold. In one such whirl of lithe
 party-dressed energy, you disappeared, red-rimmed eyes not hidden. Hunched in
 your bestowed green dress, long legs; even then like anacondas in white silk
 Alone, a wayward sapling above the tree line, I sat by you and your head took
 root on my shoulder. They politely pretended to understand but never listened
    Talking so much, we had to remind ourselves of imminent Dorwinion. And,
 suddenly happier, you scuttled away; disguising yourself in fountains of wine
Ill-matched twins: I, a pate and a half taller, eighty times your age and more.
  Inseparable whenever we can be, for when your storm stopped, we found stars
    dancing in the air around our heads and in the stillness, followed them
         Not understanding what they meant, but knowing why they shine
 
===============================================================================
                                        
His words left her vexed, and rage surged through her slender mass. No matter
how delicately put, it was unambiguous that Tauriel was not worthy of his son.
Not that it bothered her, for it was the King she coveted most, but she wanted
to know why he thought her unworthy? She had witnessed dragon, she fought aside
her kin in battle who were then slain before her eyes. She did her utmost to
impress the Elvenking; embarking on missions that almost cost the elf her life.
And through what she endured, the lowly Silvan elf survived as though it were
no toil to her at all. Yet the King stood before her, belittling the red-head
as he had done previously. The dwarf, maybe.But she had disallowed the
forbidden bond to manifest, so that held no cause for dispute.
                  'You leave the borders; influence my son-'
“Your sonhas a mind of his own! I don’t recall holding a dagger to his throat!”
she argued. Her head rose like the wild moon with misunderstood emerald eyes. I
stand corrected,her Smugnessaccepted defeat. With a blend of grace and ire, and
the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth, the elf strolled over
to the table and poured herself a glass of his Dorwinion into his goblet. The
king said nothing then; just observed her audacity.
It was not the first time the King of Mirkwood found himself tied as tongues in
her presence. It was a regular occurrence, the elf silencing him with her own
unyielding tongue. Her bold nature is what enticed Thranduil the most; he
thought her a challenge as no other would dare talk at their King like she. And
so he asked her something; almost causing her to choke on his favourite wine.
  ‘Tell me, Tauriel. Do you remember what it was you so craved for all those
                                  years ago?’
She spat the wine back into the goblet and eyeballed her King. He smirked at
her, and now she was the one accepting defeat. He evoked such tantalizing
memories that never seemed to flee her mind. Her green eyes fell to his arms.
Even after all those years, the solidness still teased her behind the silver
sleeves. He encircled her once, with a cruel smile pulling at his lips, and
exited his own private quarters; leaving the elf to mull in her thoughts.
After finding herself, Tauriel slammed the goblet down; its contents spraying
on the table and some on her hand. Oh, so now he remembers?She pursued after
him, and upon entering the halls the King was nowhere to be seen. She checked
to see if he had retired to his throne, but found it to be empty. After
searching the wine cellar, she darted to his chamber. She paced up and down
outside the door, contemplating if she should knock. Her stomach curdling, she
breezed into the room and surveyed the vast space. She had only ever observed
from the outside, but the elf always found herself impressed by the large bed
that dominated the centre of the floor. It was a four poster, with a
beautifully intricate wrought wooden frame. Her anger a distant memory, she
walked over to the bed and fingered the details carved into its solid
structure.
Her thoughts were suspended as the doors behind her closed. Tauriel pivoted
round in alarm and found the King staring at her, intently. His ice blue eyes
bored into hers as they each stood there in silence, shut off from the dwellers
of Mirkwood. She considered apologizing and taking her leave, but she felt a
sudden desire to stay. His hands clasped behind his back, he sauntered toward
her with the most slowest of torturous steps. The she-elf bowed her head with
shame. Who would dare to enter the master‘s chamber without his consent?
Forgive me, my Lord, she murmured into her chest. As he moved closer, each step
increased her own lust instead of fear.
After what seemed like an eternity, he is there; so close she could feel his
breath. While she stared at her feet, her eyes caught sight of his hand rising
to her face. He lifted her chin with his fingertips, what for?he asked. Tauriel
gulped, swallowing the irksome lump that formed in her throat. Their gaze
locked, and all she could possibly fathom was slaking her hunger for his flesh,
his touch. With her eyes, she begged him to take her on his bed, to allow their
bodies to merge into one before her antithesis descended like bats to divide
them.
His jaw tightly clenched, his adamantine eyes roved over her lean body before
they flicked back up to her emerald orbs. Overcome with shyness, elf felt her
pointed ear tips turning red and broke their gaze. Thranduil’s hand turned her
face toward his, pulling it close.
 ‘You have planted yourself in every nerve of mine, and now we reap the harvest
                              of love and lust’ 
His sultry voice made her quake. Tauriel opened her mouth to respond, but no
words came as she grasped for a reply. Her King loomed closer and, in turn, she
leaned back as far as she could go before the bed frame thwarted her actions.
His lips caught hers suddenly, drawing the she-elf back under his lustful haze.
The kiss was slow yet demanding as his mouth crushed hard onto hers. She could
taste his wine that still lingered; unsure of whose palate it came from. Her
arousal rising, Tauriel emitted a soft whimper into her King’s mouth and he
returned it with the throaty chuckle that made her weak at the knees.
Uncontrolled, her hands snaked over his muscular back until her fingers
intertwined in his silver hair. They then roamed higher and traced his crown,
reminding her of whose tongue was violating her mouth. As she locked her arms
around his neck, Thranduil curled his own around her waist, embracing her
closer. His hold was just as she imagined when she was a mere six decades old,
only this exceeded her childish musings; she was now living what she
so desired.
Her breathing quickened as their tongues wrapped together like silent snakes.
Take me, she begged between the kisses that built her pleasure. She could feel
the Elvenking’s strong fingers pressing into her hips while her petite breasts
pushed into his broad torso.
He pulled away, eliciting an exasperated sigh from Tauriel's lips. The she-elf
gasped, catching her breath as the intense pleasure ebbed away, leaving her
panting and livid. She glared up at her King, who had been watching her since
denying her full pleasure. The wicked smile he gave her before was back on his
cruel face; almost taunting her.
“Why did you stop?” she demanded.
Thranduil backed away toward his door, and Tauriel’s arms were left lingering
in the air with a questioning gesture. He tilted his head and kept his eyes on
her with a firm gaze. All in good time, and then he was gone.
 
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     I, uh, got a little carried away here.... Um... The sex... So, don't
     read if you don't like sex. Any kind of sex. Sorry.
As your stream of thighs part around me, the shadow of love’s wet wing protects
             us in our undressing, reflected endlessly in mirrors.
Exchanging kisses as desolate as the rain unchained from black clouds, birds in
                 the trees cry with distant nocturnal voices.
　
===============================================================================
 
 This time, his words left Tauriel carnally aching. When was this ‘good time‘,
another six centuries? Her ire rose, cursing the Elvenking as he so harshly
abandoned the she-elf. Not so long ago, his lips were merged with hers and then
they weren’t, all at once; leaving her parched for lust.
“Tauriel. Is everything all right?” Legolas asks as she shoulders past him. She
doesn’t fret over the possibility that the Prince might have saw her flee his
father’s chambers. Her mind is far too occupied by the obscurity of the
Elvenking’s actions. Yes, mellon, all is well, she tells the perplexed blonde.
The she-elf retreats to the bed-chamber she resides in at times. There, she
allows herself to mull over the incident; attracting only torturous thoughts to
her mind with images of her fleshly King dominating her and bringing the red-
head to the peak of satisfaction. He had shunned her for so long, rejecting the
she-elf pleasure that only he could grant her. Up to now, Tauriel had patiently
endured her hunger for Thranduil, and now she was unsure as to how much longer
she could see this through.
Her loins were burning, tormenting the elf for what she so yearned for but
couldn‘t have. Or so they thought.She kicks off her boots and unclothes
herself, underwear and all. The elf watches her reflection in the mirror as she
rakes her fingers along the skin of her thighs, leaving trails of thirst, and
allows her hands to wander over her naked body. She needs it, now.No, she needs
him; her own touch will not suffice. She flounces to her wardrobe and rummages
through it, searching for her longest robe.
Beset with determination, Tauriel marches through the bonds of the great hall.
Clutching the green robe shut, she makes her way to the Elvenking’s throne.
“Daro! What- Miss Tauriel, I said halt!“ two guards obstruct her path; dense
and inevitable as reluctant trees. But unyielding and lust ridden, Tauriel
forces her way through like a wave pushing the foam.
The King is bearing a lopsided smirk as she approaches. With her train and two
guards following closely behind, the she-elf maintains eye-contact with him the
entire time. He so arrogantly sits in a nonchalant pose, somewhat slouched and
cross legged. His arms are draping lazily over the rests and, in one hand, he
holds the rim of his wine goblet. Thranduil’s cruel smile unfurls further as
Tauriel bravely climbs the stairs leading to his chair of power, which not even
his own son dared to cross the limit of.
 There is a fire within them that only needs a touch to bring forth the flame.
“My Lord?” one of the guards call from the base of the stairs, awaiting their
King to advise them in hauling the she-elf away. Stopping at the highest step,
Tauriel lets the gown to fall open; captivating King Thranduil with her
unconquered body. His smirk fades into sternness and his breathing comes to be
more apparent as he allows his hungry eyes to rove over the slender elf‘s
nakedness. He tightens his grip on the armrest to restrain himself from
reaching out and touching her. The guard calls for a command again. Regardless
of Tauriel blocking his view, their presence now frustrates the King.
Thranduil uncrosses his legs and raises his free hand, leave us, he orders the
guards. As their footsteps fade away, Tauriel emits a sigh of relief; drawing
the King’s fierce eyes to hers. The she-elf is trapped by his gaze, taken in by
his dangerous beauty; his strong jaw line, his structured cheekbones and
blazing eyes. Are we alone?she breathes. He doesn’t respond. His flaring
nostrils and angry glare cause a stray thought to run desperately through her
mind - she is wholly regretting her approach.
As the elf raises her hands to conceal her exposed skin, Thranduil drops his
wine; causing Tauriel to recoil. And within that same moment, he instantly
grasps her hips and pulls her atop him to sit astride his lap. She utters a
startled gasp as her face lingers so close to her King’s. Oh,and his arousal is
evident as it presses against the pure region of her body.
Her excitement stimulates as his hands wander up to her shoulders, pushing off
her gown and leaving Tauriel in her full glory. He caresses the ridges of the
she-elf’s hipbones, and gropes his way to her behind. He clutches at her flesh
firmly and hoists her up, and her now heaving breasts are at his lips. He holds
one in his strong hand and opens his mouth to run his tongue over the bare
nipple, sending a current of shockwaves rushing to her aching core. Please, my
Lord,she implores. He releases her bosom, allowing her to unclasp his brooch
and tear his gown open. His eyes watch her hands as they desperately fumble
with his trousers, and he sighs with content when he is released from the
constraints.
Tauriel’s eyes are wide with astonishment as they drink in the sight of her
King’s arousal. Even as it brushes against her glans, it almost pushes her over
the edge. Do it,he snarls through caged teeth, digging his nails into her skin
where he holds her willowy waist. She hesitates and fear flints in her eyes.
He is impatient. Thrusting upward, he squeezes hard and forces her hips down,
impaling the she-elf on his full length. In turn she cries out in both pleasure
and pain and buries her face into the crook of her King’s neck.
It was alien to her, feeling something so deepand satisfyingly full, yet her
heart races as it struggles to make sense of these new sensations. Impulsively,
Tauriel begins to rise and fall and Thranduil’s low, sensual moans purring in
her ear provoke her further. She grips onto the structure of his throne to
stabilize herself, and rests her forehead to his.
The Elvenking’s hands grasp the she-elf’s waist to control her rhythm, pulling
soft sounds from her mouth each time she settles into his lap. She bites her
lip to prevent her louder moans filling the Mirkwood Halls; it was already
risky enough without having to draw attention. Her breathing is thick in her
throat and her heart thunders in her chest as waves of ecstasy roll through
her. His jaw is clenched tight and he fixates his blue eyes to her features.
She clings desperately onto his shoulders as her completion builds; each new
sensation piling on top of the other. She lets herself go and rides her first
wave of complete pleasure. The cascade of satisfaction begins at her groin and
surges outward, and her entire being twitches in time with every pulse. As she
collapses on top of her king, her heart is beating hard and ready to burst out
her chest. Fulfilled, she withdraws herself and Thranduil growls at the
suddenness. She is sober, but her legs think her drunk as they hold her
unsteady.
The king’s anger ignites in his chest. He frowns at Tauriel as she retrieves
her clothing and leaves him discontented. He watches her as she races down the
path of his domain, hurriedly dressing herself before someone catches sight.
He, too, conceals himself and descends his throne as his lust returned with a
vengeance.
He finds the greedy she-elf in her chamber. She hadn’t even made it to the bed
as she was sitting on her floor aside the entrance; blatantly exhausted from
recent events.He observes Tauriel’s state and closes the door before crouching
down in front her. She stares back at him, anticipating his next move. Well?
What is it?she asks. Unexpectedly, he pounces on her; lightly gripping her
throat and holding her against the wall.
“You dare to deny your King his full pleasure?” he seethes, looming over her
face.
She smirks and opens her mouth ready to offend him. Before the insult has a
chance to roll of her tongue, the king pulls her to the ground, head first, and
pins her face against the cold floor. She starts to giggle and attempts to
squirm free of his hold. You greedy, selfish whore,he growls deeply in her ear
while tracing a finger down the middle of her back, making her shiver under his
attention. He grips and kneads her buttock and promptly follows the
crease,putting pressure with his middle finger. She writhes again but pushes
her backside onto him and a desperate moan escapes her mouth, which sounds so
enticing.
With the end of his finger still lodged inside her there, he moves his
chiselled thighs between hers; spreading her legs agonizingly slowly. He
releases himself and replaces his finger with the tip of his member. Tossing
her lustrous hair, Tauriel looks back over her shoulder and flashes him a
seducing smile, “that’s not your finger… is it, my Lord?” she murmurs.
He cocks his head and sneers, all the while pushing into her dark, inviting
hole. Tauriel lowers her head and exhales as she engulfs her King. He moves in
and out with long, slow strokes until he assumes the she-elf is more
comfortable. She starts to moan, gutturally, between laboured breaths, you like
this?he purrs. She responds by grinding her hips backwards, urging her King to
fuck her. With that, he grabs her hips and slams himself into her tight
confinements. Yes,she gasps, clenching her teeth and battering a fist in the
floor. Her walls tightening around him feel exceptional. Her voice trails off
as her orgasm subsides, and she continues to shudder beneath him. He follows
suit; unleashes himself inside her and moans loudly as his pelvis emits lewd
slapping sounds against her behind. Satisfied, he finally collapses on top of
the spent she-elf.
It takes him a few moments to regain his composure. He adjusts himself while
looking down at Tauriel, and smirks at her comatose state. He steps over the
sprawled elf, I love you, my Lord,he hears her whisper as he opens the door.
And I, you,he responds softly, and disappears amongst the uncorrupted
inhabitants of Mirkwood.
 
End Notes
     I said underage... but she's SIXTY! I wanted to make Tauriel a little
     more immature and childish, but I had to keep in mind that elf
     children have very advanced minds.
     Plus, I ship both these tree-shaggers so hard!
     I was simply inspired by my own infatuation that I had with a
     highschool teacher whilst I was in primary school, which was many
     years ago.
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