Adrenaline rush

I promised at least one shots.

Well there is one. Almost.

It was like a dance. But the music to this dance wasn’t a pleasant melody but the sound of a battle. Steel clashing, screams, yells, orcish growling. All of that.

But it was enough for him to dance in this kind of music with his two swords like he would dance with a lover. He let them close enough, let them think that they can get him, let them swirl with a naïve pleasure that they may defeat him. Just a couple of swift, smooth motions and he was done with them. The blood splashed all over his chest plate and he smiled to that. Despite the deadly battle raging around him, he felt alive.

Adrenalin was running in his veins instead of the royal blood. It set him into a motion, it let him forget about the tiredness of his muscles. He was chopping off the head of another orc when he saw his captain of the guard, fiercely fighting the goblin with just one dagger as she lost the rest of weapons. Her light and petite body made her faster than the clumsy monster in front of her.

Thranduil fought off two more attacks, leaving dead corpses behind him. The adrenalin fastened his heartbeat and breathing when he spotted a pack of new, fresh orcs dispatching her way. She was alone, cut off from their own unit, fighting aside. He danced towards her, his two slim swords cutting the air around his body. He then bent down to pull off an orcish dagger from a corpse on the ground and aimed at one of the orcs, creeping behind Tauriel to give her a blow.

She was alone, cut off from their own unit, fighting aside. He danced towards her, his two slim swords cutting the air around his body. He then bent down to pull off an orcish dagger from a corpse on the ground and aimed at one of the orcs, creeping behind Tauriel to give her a blow.

The dagger bit into the forehead of the filthy creature and he fell to the ground like a rotten pear. Tauriel snapped her head towards the King, her red hair shining in the sun.

He joined her quickly, pressing one of his swords into her hand. She grabbed it and immediately turned behind him, back to back. They fought in unison, complement each other like they would be one.

Soon the Orcs found out they cannot fight this army with a deadly machine of two elves and the horn announced their retreating. Both of them watched them running away. He sensed her uneasiness, she wanted to hunt them. Oh, he would enjoy it as well. His heartbeat was like a war drum. He turned to face her.

She looked up at him, her green eyes wild, sweat on her brow and her chest was quickly rising and falling like his own.

Adrenalin from the battle still didn`t cease. They were staring at each other without a word.

He never realized until then how she looked like, disheveled from the fight, blushed and sweated. It was different than on the training grounds…

Just a picture of her, without the weapons, without her clothes..and she would be breathing like that, be blushed like that, her eyes would be wild like that…after a lovemaking with him.

She wanted to say something, perhaps suggesting that they should hunt them down. But he interrupted her by grasping her chin gently and claiming her lips as his.

When he was pulling away slowly, he took his own sword from her hand, brushing her fingers meanwhile.

“Call for retrieve to the camp, Captain.” He breathed into her lips and then he left her standing there with wide eyes and a heartbeat faster than in the battle.


Tauriel bit her lower lip as she watched the King giving a speech to open the festivities celebrating the spring.  Her eyes were scanning him like she was trying to find a single flaw on his appearance. But she wasn`t.

Since he kissed her, there on the battle field a year ago, she saw him differently. But it wasn`t just because of the kiss. It was an exciting experience, yes, but what made her think of him differently, was the fact how he looked that day, in that moment.

His hair was a mess, his armor covered in orcish blood, and his eyes, those, usually, ice-cold blue orbs were so alive, so dark…He looked younger, almost like his son, Legolas and not over a six thousand years as he was. The adrenaline from the fight changed into a desire, as it usually did. But she never paid any attention to it as she never desired anyone yet. But at that very moment, when they were staring at each other and she was drunk in a view of him like that…she desired him. And like he felt it too, he kissed her then. His voice back then was also different than one he was speaking with now during the speech. It was colored with an arousal. She shivered and closed her eyes for a while to gather herself together.

When she opened them again, she saw the King sitting down again, the feast began. The moment from the battle never repeated. And none of them ever spoke about it. Every time both acted like usually. He was all collected, regal and cold again. No deeper emotions were running behind his eyes.

But she couldn`t forget. He lit a desire in her. She tried to turn that desire to someone else, someone more approachable, but it was useless. The desire died as soon as another laid a hand on her. Yet when she spotted the Elvenking, it burnt again. It was a low fire.

But a constant one.

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