Twelve Days of Hrive 'Isia Ch. 03

Gilraen shook her head in understanding. "I am glad she will not be killed. There was a time when I think she loved me. I do not wish to see her dead, but gone from this place is fitting."

Several moments passed before Turgon moved to take Gilraen into his arms. He held her close, rubbed her back gently still mindful of her healing wounds, and whispered words of admiration against her brow. She turned her head, so she could gaze upon his face. They leaned toward each other at the same time. Turgon's lips brushed against hers; she moaned softly before opening her mouth and allowing his tongue to seek hers out. Long fingers curled into the material of Turgon's jacket as he pulled her closer to him. The warm battle of tongue against tongue brought a heated flush to Gilraen's chilled features. She pushed herself against him, moved so his hand could slide behind her rump and pull her onto his lap. His fingers moved to her hood; he released the clasp, pushed it back and unraveled her hair from the loose braid.

Gilraen purred as he massaged her scalp, while massaging her mouth. She trembled when his tongue darted out, to trace the shape of her lips. He trailed kisses along her jaw, over her eyes, against her brow, and then back to her mouth, which he plundered. She gasped for air, but refused to pull herself away.

She felt his hand slide down her cloak, he released first one string, and then another until the cold winter air kissed the gown beneath his fingers. A palm pressed against her breast, she pushed into it. His fingers manipulated the globe, pushing, tugging, massaging it while her hands moved to cup the back of his head, holding him to her mouth. He pulled away, only to slide his kisses down her throat, as he continued to learn her womanly shape. "Gilraen."

Her name was a whisper on the air; she savored the sound of it as it fell from his lips. "I want every inch of you," he told her. "I believe my beautiful Princess that 'like' is no longer an option for me."

She smiled softly, pulled his face back up to hers and kissed him again. "Nor I – I do believe I love you Turgon."

He grinned, and swallowed the joy of laughter that had spilled from her throat. His mouth assaulted hers with little doubt that she welcomed it. The ember he'd ignited several nights ago was growing quickly into a licking flame of desire. Her name was again whispered, while he pushed her back toward the arm rest of the bench. Turgon lay halfway on top of her, both forgetful of the snow they were quickly melting with their burning need.

"Excuse me..."

Gilraen gasped; Turgon cursed. Both moved away from each other and stared at Círdan. "I did not run you through when you were with my lady love earlier this week; pray tell me why I should not do so now?"

The Princess blushed, bit her lower lip and lowered her gaze, while her fingers moved to repair her cloak, hair and hood.

"The evening meal is ready and after today's events, Priest Huro feels it best that you both preside over the group to show your loyalty and commitment to the people as well as to each other," Círdan winked, "but if you wish to continue what you were doing, I can arrange for all to take a stroll through the gardens, thus putting their mind at ease that you are wedding by force Princess, not by choice.

Turgon growled low. "Have our places arranged and we will present ourselves to the masses within the hour."

"An hour – is that all you're going to give the girl?" Círdan asked. "Surely your 'lady love' deserves a day of attentions, perhaps you have forgotten how to please a woman and I should take your place – I would hate to have our Princess find fault in her first lover's ministrations."

"Her only lover's ministrations will not be lacking," Turgon hissed, before casting Círdan out of the gardens and returning his attentions to Gilraen. He stroked her cheek, rose and pulled her with him. His lips again touched hers, but he pulled away before either could become too lost in the other. "I will meet you at dinner," he whispered, before taking her back to the library and handing her off to one of his guards. "See that our Princess and her sister arrive at the dinner table without too much deterrence from any that may see their loyalty still lies with Queen Eáránë." The guard did as was asked, and soon the fifth day of Hrive 'Isia was behind them.