-General-
The first rays of dawn filtered through the curtains, caressing the skin of the newlyweds. The night had been long, a whirlwind of laughter, sighs, and gasps.
Outside, the Elven women in charge of cleaning whispered among themselves, pretending to occupy themselves with other rooms. They claimed they didn't want to interrupt, but the truth was they smiled, imagining what the refined and kind half-elf would do in his most savage moment.
The stifled laughter from outside gradually woke Aldril, who had to make a great effort to open his eyelids. He stretched with a yawn, causing the naked Elf beside him to emit a soft sound of discomfort.
That murmur drew the half-elf's attention. Upon fully recovering his consciousness, he turned his head toward her. Tauriel's pale, almost milky skin peeked out from between the sheets; her bust, exposed and serene, seemed to invite him to repeat the savagery of the night before.
Aldril shook his head, dispelling his most primitive urges. Gently, he took the white blanket and covered the Elf's body, causing her to let out a sigh of satisfaction as she felt the enveloping warmth.
"Beautiful even while sleeping," he murmured, running his fingers affectionately through Tauriel's reddish hair.
Yawning once more, Aldril sat up and left the comfort of the mattress. The morning light bathed his naked body as it filtered through the window located beside the bed. Although it offered a generous view of the outside, its design prevented anyone from looking in, granting the occupants absolute privacy.
The air still held a sweet aroma. Despite what had happened the night before, the narcissus flowers in the pots prevailed with their pure fragrance, displacing any lingering scent. Aldril inhaled slowly, allowing himself a moment to enjoy the delicate perfume of the room and the warm air seeping through the frames.
He stretched until his bones cracked, relaxing his body after sleep. Turning back toward the bed, he caught a glimpse of Tauriel's gentle rise and fall of her chest. She slept with enviable peace. Her calm breathing and the faint smile on her lips were proof enough.
Aldril chuckled, feeling pride and love flood him. He had finally crossed the line with Tauriel; it was as if the night before had sealed the crown of their love. He never imagined he would end up married to such beauty, and yet here she was, sleeping beside him, so radiant even in repose.
He sighed, still intoxicated by the emotion, and walked toward the bathroom. The floral scent dominated the room, yes, but the sweat and the persistent sticky feeling in his groin reminded him, with a certain mischief, that there were things even the fragrance of narcissus could not erase.
Once inside the bathtub, Aldril closed his eyes and let the tension dissolve in the warm water. His shoulders gradually relaxed, though his mind remained caught up in the memories of the night before. Were it not for the fact that his beloved was deeply asleep, he might have already jumped on her again.
As if his thoughts had summoned her, the bathroom door opened with a slight whisper. The surrounding steam mingled with the light, half-concealing the naked figure that entered with graceful steps.
"You could have stayed in bed a little longer," Tauriel said softly, still hoarse from sleep.
Aldril was barely startled; not out of fear, but because of the way his heart seemed to stumble upon seeing her there: naked, bathed in light, with that perfect mix of strength and delicacy that left him breathless.
"I wanted to let you rest," he replied, somewhat awkwardly. "The night was... intense."
Tauriel's smile widened, amused and satisfied. It was so rare to see him nervous that it almost endeared her.
"It was," she admitted as she approached with light steps. "Although..." She placed a hand on his chest, provoking an immediate reaction in him that made her smirk, "I don't recall asking for my husband to escape so early."
Aldril opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Tauriel laughed at his confusion and, with a simple movement, entered the bathtub, ending up only inches away from the half-elf.
"Dear," she whispered, guiding his hands to her hips naturally. "We still have time before breakfast."
The fleeting thought crossed Aldril's mind like lightning: 'Where did my Tauriel's shyness go?'
He had no chance to reflect further. His wife, now uninhibited, claimed him with sweet and passionate hunger... because once she tasted the fruit of their love, she only wished to savor it again.
...
The morning activity of the newlyweds went unnoticed by most of the guests. Although more than one could imagine the reason for their absence, no one commented on it; some out of prudence, others out of respect... and one or two perhaps out of sheer secondhand embarrassment.
Thranduil, Thalwen, Galadriel, Celeborn, Elrond, and Glorfindel were already at the breakfast table. It was neither lack of courtesy nor impatience that had led them to start without Aldril and Tauriel. In fact, everyone was perfectly willing to wait.
The problem was, as Thalwen correctly pointed out, such a young couple could take hours to appear... if they appeared before noon. And since they did not want to make their mortal guests wait, they started breakfast.
A few minutes later, a group of Dwarves—still staggering and vaguely smelling of the night's celebration—entered the dining hall, accompanied by Thorin. Despite his imposing presence, the King Under the Mountain wore the dim sheen on his face that only a Dwarvish hangover could produce.
They were greeted with the greatest Elvish hospitality: with a wide table, laden with roasted turkey, beef, warm bread, sweet fruits, and, of course, abundant beer that shimmered in silver tankards.
It must be said that the Dwarves came dragging a monumental hangover... but, like dust in the wind, it dissipated as soon as they saw the feast. Their eyes lit up as if waking from a slumber, and the aroma of the robust meats made even the most dazed one wake up with great jubilation.
They were followed by Aldril and Tauriel, the long-awaited couple. Their entrance was as discreet as could be expected from newlyweds who had woken up late... and for reasons quite obvious to half the table.
They were accompanied by Gandalf and Bilbo, who showed the aftermath of the previous night on their faces. The Dwarvish beer had been so strong that even the Gray Wizard himself—whose resistance to alcohol was almost legendary—had ended up collapsing like a mere mortal. And there was no need to mention Bilbo: the hobbit leaned on Gandalf with a shaky gait, blinking as if the light in the dining hall were a direct threat to his existence.
"I am never drinking with Dwarves again... never..." Bilbo muttered, though his tone indicated he didn't even believe his own words.
"Look at the lovebirds!" exclaimed Kíli, lifting his tankard with such energy that some of the beer shot out backward. "To their flourishing love!"
"To their flourishing love!" repeated Fíli, clinking his tankard against his brother's with more force than necessary. Both were still drunk, or perhaps the hangover simply refused to act on them. In any case, their enthusiasm was as chaotic as it was charming.
Tauriel laughed with an elegant courtesy, inclining her head in thanks. There was something deeply endearing about the way those two Dwarvish brothers celebrated anything involving Aldril, even if it was just another excuse to raise a tankard.
She observed the table, letting her gaze sweep over everyone present, and a warm sensation blossomed in her chest. Her husband, with a heart larger than Middle-earth, had gathered friendships as diverse as they were improbable: proud kings, wise wizards, noble Elves, boisterous Dwarves, wandering Bards and poets... and, of course, one small hobbit struggling not to fall asleep over his fruit plate.
Bilbo, that adventurous hobbit whose courage never ceased to surprise her, yawned with such drama that Gandalf had to give him a small nudge so he wouldn't collapse forward.
It was well known that among all of Aldril's friends, the small hobbit was the one Tauriel most appreciated. The best man at their wedding. The little man who, with an impossible mix of shyness and courage, was already considered—without any discussion—the future godfather of their children.
**
The next 8 chapters are now available on p@treon: "[email protected]/Mrnevercry" In addition, for my subscribers, I will upload alternate chapters about Aldril's journey.