Summary: It’s a cold, cold night, and Thuringwethil feels it. Mairon comforts her.
Minors DNI
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The night had grown cold, the room colder even with a fire crackling away in the hearth.
And there had been a full moon out tonight, its light spilling through sheer drapes.
That was the thing that stunned Thuringwethil the most—that the Valar were able to salvage something from the rotted remnants of the two trees and bring new light into the world. The one that shone bright and golden hurt her eyes, but she adored this pale, silvery disk. She went to the window, content to watch.
The door to their rooms opened, and the air warmed. Thuringwethil felt her heart flutter a little.
"What are you doing, my jewel?" Mairon asked when he came in.
Thuringwethil kept her eye on the skies. "Admiring that, my love."
Mairon came over, his gaze falling on the moon and the countless stars glittering like tiny diamonds scattered all over rich, black velvet. Varda had outdone herself; he reluctantly conceded. "Pretty," he allowed, "but nowhere as breathtaking as the creature standing before me."
Thuringwethil blushed as his arms wrapped around her, holding her flush against him. There was still a spark of warmth in him, remnants of his time at the forge, and she felt it when he held her.
"My jewel?" Mairon asked when she turned and sighed contentedly, her face buried in his tunic.
"You're so warm, my love." She sighed when she felt that spark of warmth still radiating from his body. When the wind blew with more force, the air cooled even more. She trembled, somewhat ashamed that she could possess such a weakness.
Mairon did not rebuke her for such a thing. He held her to him, letting her draw comfort from his presence. When the air grew even colder, and she shivered, he led her inside, saying, "Do you still struggle with the cold, my jewel?"
She swallowed. The other maiar adjusted to the change much faster. The darkness no longer troubled them. The damp air no longer bothered them. Intense cold and icd no longer troubled them. But her? Oh, how she still struggled sometimes. "I do..." She licked her lips and confessed, "I just want to curl up somewhere warm on nights like this."
Somewhere warm, she said. Vána's meadows, where the world was evergreen and the air was warm and fragrant, a place where it was always summer and never anything else. Here at Tol-in-Gaurhoth, life was much colder now that winter had settled over Beleriand. And Thuringwethil had a more difficult time than most with her new life.
Mairon asked, "Do you miss the meadows, my jewel?"
Oh, how it shamed her to say it. "I do, still. The flowers, the birds, the warm air." She took a slow, steadying breath before looking up at him. "Are you angry?"
Mairon sighed and shook his head. How could he be angry? It had only been a few moons since she had left everything she knew behind in Valinor. It had been only a few moons since she left all her other companions and the safety of Vána's meadows to come here with him. And those who attended Vána and Yavanna craved heat and warmth, and here, far away from them, they struggled.
"My love?" Thuringwethil asked as her fear grew.
Wanting to soothe her, Mairon laid a hand on her hair and let his fingers brush through as he always did. The room grew darker as clouds drifted in and darkened the sky. The air became damp and chilled as the rain fell. They stood there, watching each other silently.
Thuringwethil felt her heart thump frantically with fear as the moments seemed to melt into each other. If Mairon was angry, he said nothing. She certainly saw no anger in his countenance. She swallowed when he took her hands, his fingers interlacing with hers.
"I am not angry, my jewel," Mairon finally said, lifting her hands to his lips. Her skin had grown cold but tasted sweet all the same. Oh, how he hungered to taste more of her. "This new life we have chosen is not an easy one. Of course, we'd have a hard time with it changing."
She shivered again when his lips drifted and lingered over every finger. When he lifted his eyes, she could only see desire and wanting burning bright as ever. Thuringwehtil also saw understanding and something else. Something she couldn't quite place, something that felt light and sweet. When he let go and wrapped his arms around her, she inched forward, closing the distance between them.
When Mairon kissed her, she kissed him back. Kissed him with equal fire and need. When his mouth opened over hers, she sighed and cleaved to him, her entire body warming when his tongue licked past her parted lips and slipped into the warmth of her mouth. His fingers toyed with her hair, and his eyes briefly opened, drinking her in. When his hand glided over to the softness of her throat, he felt it. The chill on her skin, the trembling in her muscles. She needed to feel more warmth, something he knew he could provide.
Thuringwethil pouted when he broke their kiss and chuckled softly at her whine. "Come here, my jewel," he said and took her hand, leading her to their bed. "I will keep you warm."
Warnings: Kissing | Penetrative Sex | Foreplay | First time (for both) | Oral (fem receiving)
Word count: 2.8k words
Summary: Thuringwethil and Mairon have settled in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, and finally get to have a proper suite of rooms to themselves. The rest are away in the halls feasting, leaving them to their own devices.
This was inspired by @cilil Angbang posts.
Rating: 🔥
Minors DNI | 18+
Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.
If you like this, please consider giving it a reblog.
The feast lasted long into the night.
They ate and drank and ate some more, creating a filthy mess in the halls. No one was bothered as their new prisoners would have to clean up after them. And there were many prisoners now that the island had fallen.
Tol Sirion was renamed Tol-in-Gaurhoth and was firmly under new command. The Maia, whom many called Mairon, ruled it, and he was nowhere to be seen. Only one other being knew where he was, and she too was nowhere to be seen.
And no lowly orc would dare question their absence, especially if they knew what was good for them.
…….
"How did it feel, my jewel, your first taste of blood?" said Mairon. He leaned against a doorpost, watching while his companion examined herself.
Thuringwethil gazed at her reflection in the mirror and inspected her mouth, searching for the fangs that were no longer there. Her first proper battle in the form of a bat was easy, but her jaws were still a little sore and her head had been spinning. It was the first time she had taken a life and consumed blood besides. "Strange," she mumbled. "And so exhilarating." She looked over her shoulder, smiling at him. "I never thought blood could taste so sweet or leave me feeling so full."
"Then you can have your fill of our prisoners, for there are many of them," Mairon looked around, taking in the elegance of their rooms and approving thoroughly. Yes, these chambers were now their rooms, where they could be together freely. No more waiting on the approval of others; no more rigid formality. Oh, Mairon liked formality, as it meant order and everything functioning as it should, but when it came to her? Mairon thought formality could take a flying leap. "Too many, I think."
Thuringwethil chuckled. "I thought our lord wanted prisoners? Live ones?" She tilted her head to one side and studied him.
Mairon was still as ethereal as the first moment she saw him, tall, proud, and otherworldly in his countenance. And that hair of his. Oh, how often she fantasized about wrapping her fingers around those fiery gold strands. When Mairon arched a quizzical brow, her cheeks warmed almost immediately, and she looked away. She wanted him, had always wanted him, she just wasn't sure if she was going to make the first move or not. It was unseemly at one point, to just give oneself without the blessings of others, to forego all the rituals and the vows that needed to be said. But now…
"Lord Melkor only insisted a handful be kept alive, just enough to serve us." Mairon shut the door, taking care to turn the key. He didn't want them to be disturbed tonight. "He said we can treat the rest as we see fit."
Thuringwethil could hear the key turning in the lock and Mairon's heavy boots thumping softly against the thick carpets. She swallowed, a hum rising from the back of her throat, her heart hammering away in her chest. Was he going to do it tonight? Take that leap and make her his in every way?
"And what do you think of these chambers, my jewel? Do they please you?" Mairon was close, so close. She felt it—his fingers running through her hair, his breath, and how the warmth of it made goosebumps rise all over her flesh.
"I..." she took a deep breath, her entire body trembling when those same fingers let go of her hair and ran down her waist. "I love these rooms, beloved. They are perfect."
"Perfect for many things, my jewel," Mairon crooned in her ear, his own body trembling with growing need. It had been so very long since that first chaste kiss and Mairon could wait no longer. He let his hands wander, let them slide over the laces that bound the back of her dress, and let his fingers do the rest. "If you wish for it, of course."
And how he hoped she'd wish for it, how he hoped she'd say yes. Thuringwethil closed her eyes as laces came undone and her dress loosened at the shoulders. She took another sharp breath when a large palm glided over exposed flesh. Her head tilted to one side when that palm moved to her shoulder, then her neck. Oh, to have that hand all over her body. Thuringwethil trembled and said, "Yes. I wish for it."
Mairon's eyes gleamed like fire in the light of nearby tapers. He pulled away and took her hand. And before she could even think, he turned her and drew her to him, his lips seeking hers.
His kiss was unexpected and warm, making her head reel. The soft sounds that rose from the back of her throat, a dreamy mix of whimpers and sighs, inflamed him. How long Mairon had dreamed of this moment, of a night like this, he could not tell. His lips plundered, his tongue slipping past her parted lips and taking in the warmth of her mouth. So sweet. Everything about this kiss was so sweet, and intoxicating. It consumed them both. When Thuringwethil hummed again, this time in a soft purr, Mairon scooped her up and carried her to bed.
The bed was as soft as Thuringwethil thought it would be, but she didn’t have time to truly enjoy it. Mairon’s mouth opened over hers, his eyes closing even as his body trembled with growing desire. Her lips parted nervously this time, her soft sigh sounding so lovely to him. She shivered when a strong, sturdy hand pulled up the skirts of her dress before going back to gliding over her thigh. And those lips that kept devouring hers—how hot and sweet and sinful they felt as they skimmed over her mouth. She could feel her body yielding, her arousal already pooling between her thighs. Thuringwethil sighed, unable to deny the very physical reaction to his touch.
Mairon helped her up, settling her on his lap and nuzzling her throat as she did so. She still smelled of wildflowers, even after so many moons serving Melkor. Her black hair had grown even longer, and Mairon had always wanted to see it spread over the pillows under a spill of light from one of the two trees. Alas, the trees were no more, and he had to content himself with the light from a few tapers. He kissed his way over soft curves and dips, groaning when he felt her pulse scrambling just beneath the skin. The pleasure came, slowly and prickling, just under his skin. He touched her with uncommon tenderness, giving himself over to the temptation to touch and tease, encouraging her to do the same.
Thuringwethil was unsure whether she was supposed to touch him or not, but she did anyway, sneaking a hand under his tunic and running it over supple muscle. Mairon moaned and held her even closer, his breath growing ragged and shallow when her hand glided over his skin, setting fire wherever they touched. His mouth kept tracing its way over her throat, this time nipping and tugging softly, leaving little patches of purple and red to bloom in their wake. That made her grind her hips into him, and his heart thudded in furious response. He let go and tugged at his tunic, lifting it and pulling it off of him. He didn’t even have time to toss it to the ground before she made an impatient sound and dragged him in with a frantic, hungry kiss. Mairon surrendered briefly before pulling away again, laughing breathily when she whined.
He kept grinning when setting her down. "Patience, my jewel," he said as he pushed himself out of bed to undress. First, his boots had to go, then his breeches. "There is no rush."
Her retort died when he rid himself of the last of his clothes and stood before her, and soft yellow light danced around his naked form. Thuringwethil blushed furiously before looking away and dithering, not knowing what to do or even say.
The room went silent. The weight of the bed then shifted. She picked up the pleasing scent of smoke and leather. A finger curled under her chin, tilting it up. "Look at me, my jewel. Do not be afraid to look at me."
And look at him she did, her eyes filling with desire and lust even as they drank in the hardened body that rose before her. She swallowed as her gaze traveled the expanse of his form. He was perfect. She thought Mairon was perfect. And he was hers, no one else’s. When Mairon held out a hand in invitation, she went very willingly, a gasp ripping through her when he hooked his arms around her and pulled her in for a rough, desperate kiss, one that made her entire body yearn with need. "I will be as gentle as I can," he promised, his hands sneaking under her skirts.
Mairon had heard the gossip among the Eldar, the things they whispered to each other about what they did with their spouses and how wonderful it all felt. He would scoff at such matters when he heard them, dismissing them as unnecessary and meaningless distractions, but now...
Now he understood. The moment he felt her bare flesh and how gloriously warm it felt beneath his palm, he understood. Oh, but it was more than just wonderful to him, more than just a meaningless distraction. He wanted to feel more of it, to feel more of her—those wondrous sensations that ripped through him every time he kissed or even touched her.
He tugged at her dress and pulled it up her waist and over her outstretched arms. It joined the little pile on the floor. Mairon then brushed back her hair, cradling her face with both hands. Molten eyes raked over her body, delighting in what they saw. Aulë had always counseled him to choose well, and Mairon was grateful that he heeded. "You are breathtaking, my jewel," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "And tonight, I am going to make you mine."
"I have always been yours," She murmured in a shaky voice. And she'd always imagined this night, of him taking her, of his body covering hers, but imagining what might happen and experiencing it in the flesh were two entirely different things. She trembled from more than a little fear.
"Shhh my jewel," Pleased by her words, Mairon crooned as he rubbed her back to soothe her. "Do not fret, hmm? Just trust me with this."
Thuringwethil was able to say, "I do trust you, beloved," before Mairon sought her lips again. This time, his kisses weren’t light. They devoured, robbing her of her breath, reducing her very bones to water. A moan escaped her lips, one that was soft and tinged with desire. Mairon’s hold on her tightened, bringing her even closer one last time before he lowered her onto the bed.
His hands were everywhere. Gliding over her thighs and skimming over her torso, he made her body burn with just a touch of his fingers. His lips moved all over her too, kissing, nipping, and tugging, gently at first, then harder, reducing her to a whimpering mess. Thuringwethil was flushed and trembling when he moved to her legs, his lips settling over the wetness between her thighs.
"M-mairon," she couldn’t help but gasp and whimper. Her hands snaked over to bury themselves in his hair, her body shaking as his tongue laved at her heat, as his lips skimmed over and around her folds. It was torture, but of the most pleasurable kind. Her eyes closed, and she hummed when an arm moved over to her belly, weighing her down and stopping her from squirming so much.
Mairon moaned when her legs moved to rest over his shoulders or her hands bunched up in his hair. He pressed his lips deeper, his tongue moving flat against her trembling nub, his body growing drunk to the sounds she made, those soft mewls and whimpers that rolled over her lips. It was good. It was all so good. He had imagined this night going a thousand different ways, but not like this. He groaned when Thuringwethil bucked against him, her grip on his hair tightening as her body grew taut like a bow string. She arched her back one last time, her body trembling violently. Mairon delighted in her cries of ecstasy, moaning when she poured against his mouth.
The room went blissfully silent and she heard nothing save for her ragged breath. She licked her lips and opened her eyes, her chest heaving like she was a mortal who had been running non-stop for hours. In all her days in Valinor, she had only listened to what the married ellith would gossip about with her and the others, the things they did with their eager husbands. It made her want such experiences for herself. Now she experienced the sheer pleasure of such a union, and she knew this was not all.
Mairon kissing his way back up her body proved it. "Are you ready, my jewel?" He asked.
Thuringwethil didn't answer with words. She reared up and dragged him in with a kiss, her legs hooking around his hips. Mairon felt like he was drowning in a dark wave of desire. He shivered when the insides of her thighs rubbed against his and when her arms circled his waist.
Gently now, he told himself.
He propped himself up on one elbow to avoid crushing her, rubbing his tip against her entrance, teasing her, and moaning when he felt how hot and wet she was to him. Thuringwethil was no longer in the mood for subtle teasing and gentle overtures. "Now," her demand came out strangled and hungry. "Please. For goodness sake, now."
With a growl, Mairon crushed her lips with his, distracting her as he plunged in with one deep stroke. Her eyes flew wide open with shock, then slowly closed when he started to rock over her, sinking his length into her as deep and as hard as he could. Every time his lips opened over hers she could taste herself on his tongue, and savoured it. Mairon grabbed onto a limp hand with his, interlacing his fingers around hers and pinning her arm to the bed as he continued to ravage her, desire and arousal hitting him in waves whenever she arched into him or her nails scoured his back.
She listened to half-mumbled words, soft vows, and solemn promises, returning them with equal feeling. The pain she felt at first turned into something else—something that grew and grew until it was about to consume her whole.
Mairon found himself spellbound by how wonderful she felt beneath him, how they fit so perfectly together. “Your body and spirit were made for me,” he breathed, delighting in the whimpers and mewls that turned into deep and satisfying moans. “So perfect, my jewel.”
Staring up into those molten gold eyes, she marveled how they always seemed to burn like that only for her. When she reached up and traced a line over his cheekbone, he sighed and closed his eyes. Oh, she would never tire of hearing that sigh. “As you are to me,” she gasped when he moved. “I want you, beloved.”
“Then think of me,” Mairon whispered, “Think only of me.”
She found herself being pushed back into the bed with each thrust and she surrendered to the wild demands of her body, just like she yielded once more to the demands of his lips. His name came out like a sob, and her legs scrabbled for purchase against his back, her ears filling with the sounds of his hips slapping against the insides of her thighs. Mairon pulled away and let go of her hand, cupping her cheek to make her look at him.
Seeing those ruby-red eyes darkened and heady with lust made him groan as he plunged harder and faster. "Let go for me, my jewel," he breathed. "Let go."
Thuringwethil somehow managed to keep her attention on him for as long as she could, her eyes closing only at the last moment as her whole body shook beneath him and his name blew past her lips in soft cries. The world seemed to stop spinning even as she trembled and trembled, and so replete was she in that blissful state that she barely heard him moan long and deep as he plunged one last time before spilling his seed inside her.
Mairon hovered over her, trying to catch his breath. There would be more nights like this; he planned on making sure of it, but what happened tonight he would always cherish through the ages. He cupped her cheek again, dipping in to kiss her softly.
There was tenderness this time, not heated passion. Thuringwethil felt like pouting when he pulled out and rolled onto his side, but she grew content when he reached over and pulled her until she was nestled safely against him. There were no words this time. Words would have simply ruined the magic that shrouded them. Mairon brushed back her hair and watched her eyes soften as she took him in.
Oh there were many more nights after this, but tonight would be the one that remained with them always.
