Closing the door behind him, Ilmendin felt the warmth of the fire before he made it into the sitting room of the suite he and his wife were using in the Last Homely House. Once more, he had traveled to Imladris as the representative of Greenwood, or Mirkwood as so many now called it. His father's Seneschal and Chief Councilor aided him; his distaste of Sindarin and lack of fluency in it kept Ilmendin from being an adequate negotiator on his own. Though his wife was the perfect translator for him, it was pointed out numerous times that it was inappropriate for her to serve in such a capacity at meetings.

So, Melannen was awaiting him in their rooms, late as it was when he returned. There was a time when she had been denied the ability to accompany him, but once their daughter was deemed old enough to stay home on her own, she began to travel with the ambassadorial party. She was in the room, Ilmendin picked up her scent mingled with the smell of the burning wood.

"My lady, my lady, I've returned to you, my love," he sang softly to her. There was a contented sound of someone stretching coming from the sitting room, and the door had been left open. Ilmendin walked at the same lazy pace he did everywhere into the room.

Though many would have gasped to see what he saw, he had seen the similar scene so many times, he simply walked to the fireplace to turn the log, pretending to ignore his wife. She had spread the cushions out on the floor before the fire, sloping on either end to the ground. Her legs, crossed at the ankles, pointed toward the fire, and her face was turned in that direction as well, her eyes closed as if in slumber. Her back was arched with aid from the cushions, and over them was spread a thick, dark brown fur, so that her pale body glowed, firelight flickering patterns across her skin.

He turned to look at her as he stood and loosen his hair from the leather ties that held it back at the base of his neck. She was a lady of Greenwood, a princess of the royal house, and though not a stitch of clothing was upon her, she was still decorated due her standing. Around her throat were ropes of jewels, sparkling as the flames caught them. Her wrists were adorned with shimmers of mithril, and her could just catch the glint of the diamonds that hung from her ears. Her left ankle displayed a thin, jeweled bracelet, and nestled in her hair was a delicate, sparkling crown.

Among the jewelry others often saw her wearing, there was one item that only he had seen, for when she had boldly asked him for it, he refused to have anyone else know of his wife's request, and had set to learn metal craft to make it himself. It wasn't the only thing he had made for her, but it was her favorite, being the first. The item was simple, merely a chain that connected two small pieces that looked something like tiny clips maidens would use to decorate their hair. That was not the purpose that Melannen used them for.

"Did you have a nice nap?" he asked softly as he folded the ties and walked to the bedroom to put them away. He removed his robes and his tunic, folding them and placing them upon the top of the chest at the end of the bed before removing his socks - his boots had been taken off outside of the door. Stepping back into the room he asked again, "How was your nap?"

Eyes fluttering open, Melannen looked up to try to catch her husband's eyes, but he was turned away, pouring a glass of brandy for himself. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." Ilmendin placed the glass upon the table next to one of the chairs and walked to her. Bending down, he ghosted a kiss upon her lips, and then went back to the chair. "How was your nap?"

Turning her head back to the fire, she said, "Restful. Thank you."

Sipping his brandy, Ilmendin observed his wife further as the fire crackled. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked, though he knew from the tray in the hall that she had. When she groaned in response and defeat, he took his drink with him and knelt down beside her, between her and the fire. "How much did you miss me?" he whispered, his free hand brushing her loose hair away from her face.

"A lot." She stuck out her lip only enough to pout and not to look overly distraught. "A whole lot," she said, her eyes wandering to the bedroom.

"Mmm, that much?" Ilmendin looked to the open doorway, contemplating something. Finally he shook his head. "Not tonight. I have a long day tomorrow, I don't want to be sore."

"I'll be... gentle..." Her fingers reached up, caressing the edges of his ears, paying special attention to the tips.

Ilmendin smiled slowly, and took her hands from his face, kissing each of them once before holding them to his chest. "That's what you always tell me," he reminded her. He placed her arms back above her head and leaned down to kiss her lips. "Tomorrow, after the conference has finished. We will have three days before we have to travel again."

"What about tonight?" She gave him another longing look. "I missed you last night, and the night before, and the first night we were here, too."

"You know that I'm tired," he said, placing his hand on her thigh. She parted her legs slightly, modestly. "I might suddenly fall into reverie," he explained as his fingers wandered toward the wet warmth that was still partly hidden from him. "What would you do then, my lady? You'd have to endure me through the night, I rest so soundly." One, and then two fingers disappeared within her, and she pushed against him.

"Good. If you fall asleep I don't have to both with tying you up," she answered.

Shaking his head, Ilmendin repeated, "Tomorrow, after the conference. After. Not before. Not now." His mouth curled up as she pouted daintily. "Now honestly, such facial expressions are hardly becoming of the crowned princess of the greatest of all the elven kingdoms."

"I wouldn't be pouting if the crowned prince were making better use of the family jewels, as it were."

Bursting in laughter, Ilmendin pulled back. A sound of disappointment came from Melannen as she sat up. "That's it, my love. You are hereby forbidden to spend time with the ladies of the underclass. I can't believe the phrases you spout some days!"

"What? Ilmen-nin, I did not pick up that trifle-"

"Vulgarity," he interjected, crossing his arms.

"It's nothing, a jest. Anyhow, I learned it from a dwarf, not a-"

"A dwarf? Really. I should lock you in the room until we are ready to leave for home," he scolded.

"Well, if only I had not been neglected..."

"Neglected, are you?" Ilmendin reached for the chain that curved down from the peaks of her breasts and rolled the metal between his fingers. Melannen hissed and leaned forward. Twisting a finger around the chain and tugging gently so that she would come closer he said, "We can't have that, now can we?"

"Oh, but it's late. You're already tired, and you have a long day and don't want to be sore," she parroted. She looked up at him through long, dark lashes. "Best to wait until tomorrow."

With a smirk, Ilmendin released the metal links and pressed one finger to her lips to silence her. His other hand moved to push her back onto the cushions. "If I fall asleep, you'll just have to deal with that."

"Gladly," she moaned as his mouth began to roam over her body. Hearing his fingers untie the cord that kept his pants snug around his waist, she drew up her legs, blindly using her feet to push the clothing down once he had unfastened them. His undergarments soon followed as he hastened his kisses and licks, moving along a V-shaped path. Each time he reached the base of his journey, his tongue would dip deeply, and Melannen would make the most encouraging sounds.

One by one, Ilmendin began to remove the jewelry that adorned his wife's body until only one piece remained - the crown upon her head. Though the rest had been taken off in a rush and tossed haphazardly in a small pile, he reverently lifted the sparkling headpiece and held it above her head. "Tomorrow, I shall serve you, but tonight, I am lord." He placed the crown carefully aside. Without further discussion, he needed only give her a certain look, and she spread her legs, her arms stretched above her head where he took them and held them down by her wrists. Edging forward on his knees, he slid within her body and began a strong and steady rhythm.

"I'm looking forward to tomorrow," she panted as he lowered his head to nip her ears.

"You're not the only one," he admitted with a growl as they made love in the firelight.