Thorin was nabbed by the armed Elven guards and dragged out of the throne room. He didn’t fight back since there wasn’t much strength left in him. But when the elf took the key around his neck, Thorin rose up instantly. The guards stopped him with sharp spears pointing to his neck. Angry was in his eyes, Thorin snarled and threatened the elves but they laughed back then threw him into the cell. Thorin grabbed the bar and screamed out words of hatred for nearly an hour. The act used up his last strength. His throat turned dry and his knee got weak. He fell to the floor and passed out. He entered a blurry dream. All shapes and colors were strange and yet at the same time familiar to him. He heard a delighted laugh followed by a voice that was as clear as crystal. He knew to whom that voice belonged. It was of someone who he thought he had erased from his memory. It was clear now that said person was still there, deep inside his mind, and maybe in his heard too. If he could speak true of his heart, Thorin would admit the bitter fact that he had never forgot the keeper of his heart. And the recent event suddenly brought hurt feeling of the long gone past to the surface. Thorin wondered how he could have two different feeling towards one person at the same time. He reached out to hold the golden, beautiful locks of hair and traced the edge of the curved lips. He frowned as if he was in pain. How much I want to hold you and how bad I want to choke you to death! He thought. Then, the image got blurry. Everything turned white and Thorin woke up in the darkness of the dungeon.
He lied on the floor. After a while, the thought of the Company, his nephews and their quest came to replace the dream. Worry and guilt evaded him. Had they escaped from the bewitched forest? Were they safe? They should have stay in their new home in the Blue Mountain. Even though it wasn’t the same as in Erebor, they had a good life there. They had a home to shelter and a job to feed their stomach. They were happy. He was happy watching his nephews grew up. Why had they abandoned all to come on this miserable and possibly with no good end journey? Had it not been for my call out of pride, they would have been warm and safe. Thorin felt bitterness on his tongue and closed his eyes to consume himself in grief.
It was all because of your selfish that they suffered and died.
It was your fault.
You put them into these perils.
You do not do this out of blind pride, Thorin.
A small voice sounded in his head. He lifted up his head and his mind became clearer.
I remember it now. All I do, I do it for them, for my nephews and my descendants.
It was what Thorin had thought during his exile, at the night he found out about the secret door. The reason he had tried so hard and so determined to take back his home land wasn’t because he wanted to live like a King again, but because of the young dwarves. He loved his nephews and could not stand when they began to forget their blood line. Fíli and Kíli needed to find Durin’s blood in them and deserved a life of honor and great deeds. As their uncle, Thorin only had one legacy that he could pass to them. But it was snatched from him, Erebor, the mighty kingdom. He had to take it back so that they did not forget who they were.
Thorin felt strength came back to his body. He stood up with more determination than before. But it didn’t help much when he was locked here, being completely separated from the outside world. He needed to get out of here and found the key. As Thorin was deep in his thought, several footsteps approached his cell. The elves soon stood in front of him.
“Stand up, dwarf. The King wants to talk to you.” One of them said as he unlocking the cell. Thorin came out as they commanded. He was surprised as they didn’t tie him. A little respect their King still had on him, perhaps. Thorin gave a mockery smile.
They took him to the bathroom and left him there. Thorin looked around and realized it wasn’t a normal bathroom. The enormous antlers hang on the wall and intricate decoration around the bath tub told him that this bath was designed for a certain elf, the King himself. And Thorin was no unfamiliar with this place though he only went here once. It was the Elven King who requested him to come here in order to help rebuilding his bath tub after he was so impressed by the heating system in Erebor. Thorin did the job and it was here he received the payment from the King, not by gold or gems but by the most precious thing one could offer.
All of sudden the view seemed to change in Thorin’s eyes. It went back to that night when he was alone in this room with the Elven King. The elf stood proudly in his alluring outfit. The thin robe wrapped closely around his body and the collar was slightly opened, allowing Thorin to have a peak at the smooth skin under. He felt hot on his cheeks and thought that the King’s choice of clothes was unfit for the situation. But then when he was pinned to the wall with his pants pulled down and his cock in the hand of the King, he knew the elf’s intention. Thorin was young comparing to the elf but it didn’t mean he had no experience about this. He had been with some maiden. But the wicked look in Thranduil’s eyes told him that this time was different. And by the time Thorin felt the elf’s soft breath and his hot, wet tongue on his cock, he knew he was done. And indeed he was, within a few minutes, which was the fastest organism he had ever had.
The Dwarf startled when he realized his lower part was reacting to his recollection. He shook his head. It wasn’t the appropriate time to think about it, damn you Thorin! And damn the Elf and his witchery tongue. Thorin grumbled before he came to the bath, hoping he could wash away the image of Thranduil going up and down his shaft.
A few minutes later, Thorin was standing in front of the mirror in his new clothes. He was surprised for the clothes fit him perfectly, as if it was made for him, the navy blue robe with golden, simple belt. He looked at his image in the mirror and was stunned for a moment for he thought he was looking at his younger self. He was as pride and regal as the young dwarven prince, but less energetic for he had bags under his eyes and a few grey locks of hair. The elves brought him to a room that Thorin soon recalled it was the King’s Private Chamber. He looked around. Everything from the floor to the roof was the same as before. It was like there haven’t been hundred years since the last time he came here. The pool shone with moonlight from a small window on the high roof. He looked at the sparkling water and another memory came to his mind. But this time he stopped it before it went too hot.
“Why are you lingering there?” A powerful voice spoke up from the other side of the pool. Thorin lifted his eyes and found his heart beating fast.
The Elven King looked ravishing in the same outfit as in Thorin’s memory of the event in the bathroom. Thorin let his mind wandering away and stood staring. Thranduil inclined his head a little bit. The gesture made his golden hair moved slowly to a side. Thorin’s eyes followed the long string up to the crownless head. Without the crown to hold but Thranduil’s hair was still in order. There was no disobedient string. Suddenly, a strange feeling rose in his chest. It was unlike what he had back in the bathroom, just pure longing in his heart now. Looking at the Elf this close made him remember their good time. They had a history which wasn’t always full of misunderstanding and hatred but happy and peaceful too. How Thorin missed the way he ran his fingers through the golden lock and grabbed it tight. The down tone color of the elf’s outfit contrasted the powerful in his stance and his blue eyes. How he missed those orbs reflecting only his image! The elf used to look at him with admiration but if there was any of that left in Thranduil, Thorin could not realize for he was brought back to the bitter reality. He shook his head then stepped towards Thranduil just as the King turned to walk to the small table where he put his wine.
“You want to talk to me but my answer was the same.” Thorin spoke when he realized he had stopped for too long that it became weird. “We plan to visit our kin in the Iron Hill. We are starving and get lost in your forest.”
“You have never been good at telling lie, Thorin.” Thranduil said taking a sip of wine with his eyes locked with those of Thorin.
The dwarf shot a glare. “You don’t know me.”
Sadness quickly crossed the King’s face. He put down the cup of wine and walked towards Thorin “My guard brought me something they found on you.” The dwarf tensed immediately. “A key.” Thranduil emphasized. “I don’t remember you have such thing on your body, Thorin.” Thranduil lowered himself to Thorin’s level and ended his sentence with a smirk that gave the dwarf a chill along the back.
“Don’t pretend you know me well, elf.” He spoke.
“Pretend?” Thranduil raised his voice as he moved to Thorin’s back. “Do I not know you well, Thorin?”
Thorin shuddered when he felt the elf’s hands on his shoulder. One of it crawled to his neck. Another one moved down to his chest, quickly slid inside his unbuttoned shirt. Cold as the hand yet it burnt everywhere it moved. The King’s breath was hot behind his ear. Thorin didn’t know why he had not pushed the elf away yet. Perhaps, he missed this. Being enemy or not, Thorin desired for this elf whenever he had his eyes on Thranduil. It was a spell the Elven King put on him long ago. And the fact that they had been separated for years added more aching feeling to the dwarf.
“What do you want…?” He managed to speak while Thranduil’s hand was teasing his nibble and his lips were on Thorin’s exposed neck.
“The truth.” Thranduil whispered, mumbling the dwarf’s ear. He removed his hand on Thorin’s neck then placed it around Thorin’s waist, quickly unbuckled his belt and slid in his pants. The King took no time to find what he wanted. He smiled satisfyingly as Thorin gave out a puff.
“You wicked elf.” Thorin scolded. He hadn’t thought of this possibility in which the King would force the truth out of his mouth by giving him this kind of torture. He had put down his fence for he thought Thranduil bore no interest of this kind for him now. How could he mistake the sign in the throne room? How naïve he was!
Thorin cursed silently, jerked up his head backward when Thranduil’s hand started to move on his cock. The aching feeling soon turned to pleasurable pain. It grew stronger and stronger, like waves after waves of water, trying to drown him. No, he thought. He could not let Thranduil control the situation. He should focus back to his quest and the thing he wanted more now that was the key.
“I’ll tell you the truth then.” Thorin said, though his voice was husky, it was calmer.
He grabbed Thranduil’s hand and turned around, quickly pushed the King against the wall behind. The sudden act didn’t surprise Thranduil but on the contrary amused him. Thorin sniggered at the smug smile on the Elven King’s face. Oh how bad he wanted to sweep it off! Thorin pulled a lock of hair to force Thranduil down so he could kiss the elf. It was in invasion rather than a kiss but both parts were happily involved in. Their tongue entwined in a weird dance. At a time it was aggressive, unhesitant like warrior before his enemy. Another time it was passionate like those shared between long years lovers. Thranduil tasted like wine, the finest wine that could knock you down, Thorin though as deepened the kiss. His hand moved to under the King’s robe. Naughty elf. He mumbled as he found out Thranduil didn’t wear anything under his robe. Thranduil smiled back, pulling out and stretching against the wall. His long arms moved up to the above his head. There, Thorin saw from the open collar of Thranduil’s robe the key, hooked in a leather string around the elf’s neck. He moved his eyes back to the elf’s waist which was arching from time to time, trying to touch his hardened cock.
“The truth is…” He said while his hands moved to behind the elf, holding and squeezing the cheeks. It was a sign between them which Thranduil had not forgot. He lifted up on of his leg and pressed it around Thorin’s waist. The dwarf scattered feather-like kisses on the inner thigh and earned a moan from the elf. “The truth… is that…” Thranduil felt an electric shock along his spine. The intimacy he had been yearning for so long.
“I’ve found the way… in.” Thorin said, smirking at the elf’s reaction. His calloused and big fingers plugged in Thranduil’s tight hole. The King cried out and clutched at Thorin’s shirt.
Thorin waited a moment before starting to move his fingers, scissoring them from time to time. Thranduil leaned back against the wall, huffing and puffing with his eyes squeezing tight. Thorin licked his lower lip, mesmerizing by the lusty elf moaning in front of him. Thranduil was hot and tight as he remembered, even tighter than before. Probably the Elven King hadn’t done this to anyone since then. The thought made Thorin proud. He pushed the fingers further and found the sweet spot in no time, earning his name out of the elf’s mouth and his hair gripped.
“Oh Valar…” Thranduil said with quavering voice.
“You ask for the truth, elf.”
Thorin pulled his fingers out and let Thranduil down on the nearby couch. Thranduil undid the rest buttons on his shirt, giving Thorin more view of his hairless chest which was one of the differences between them that Thorin loved. The dwarf leaned down, licking and kissing the lean muscles from the abdomen up to the neck. Thorin sucked down hard, making sure leaving visible marks there. Thranduil explored Thorin’s body with his hands, mapping all over. He touched the bulge, stimulating until it turned hard. He gave it a squeeze that made Thorin grunted. The dwarf moved back between Thranduil’s legs. He grabbed the elf’s hip and pulled him closer. His cock teased the red hole by moving around it, slightly touching it and not pushing in. Thranduil bite his lower lip and half opened his mouth as an invitation. His fingers scratched the couch’s seat, a sign that he was running out of patient. Thorin smirked then he pushed up, all the way in one single thrust. Thranduil’s nails dug in the couch. Thorin pressed his forehead on Thranduil’s stomach and breathed hard. That wall was clenching around him. It was painfully wonderful. He felt the elf’s muscles shaking so he waited until the pain subsided and Thranduil’s body was more relaxing to start moving. A first few thrusts were shallow and difficult accompanied with hard breath and grunt from both elf and dwarf. Thorin lifted his body up to look at Thranduil and found himself being worshiped by looking in the King’s eyes. Thorin sat up, holding Thranduil’s legs up high then pressed tight against his belly so that he could thrust deeper. He kissed the navel and almost made the Elven King burst out laughing if it wasn’t for another hard thrust. His eyes moved up the elf’s body and saw the key. It pounced on Thranduil’s chest resemblance his move into the elf. Out of sudden, an idea crossed his mind. He grabbed Thranduil’s cock and began to work on it.
“How thoughtful of you?” Thranduil smiled.
“You think so?” Thorin replied then reached up to snatch the key. Thranduil shot him a doubtful stare which he only smirked in reply. Then he winded the leather string with the key around Thranduil’s half hardened cock.
Before Thranduil could react, he found Thorin strong hand moving on his cock. The friction from the leather string sent strange feeling along his body. Suddenly Thorin pulled out and changed position. He placed one leg of Thranduil on his shoulder and leaving the other fell freely out of the couch. He thrust in once more and speeded up immediately. The pace almost got Thranduil choke on his breath. He lifted his upper body to grab at the couch’s edge. Thorin gave a smug smile at the King’s always in order hair now swaying lightly. He spread Thranduil more and reached as deep as he could. Soon he pushed the King over the edge. Thranduil saw stars at the back of his eyes as he reached climax, spilling all over the dwarf’s hand. He fell to the couch and breathed fast. Thorin waited a moment until he finished all inside the elf then pulled out and stood up, taking the key with him. Thranduil still lied on the couch with his hair covered his face. Those strings moved by his heavy breath.
“You are indeed… found the way in.” Thranduil spoke up after a minute of post-climax. Thorin looked at the King, intended to show him a smug smile but then he saw something else in the Elf’s eyes. He replied with questionable look on his face.
“I see the map. You think that Elrond was the only one who could read Moon Rune?” Thranduil asked, slowly stood up. The tearing pain made him frown but he managed to stand still. As he walked to Thorin, he felt the hot liquid dripping down his thigh. Thranduil pulled up his robe.
“I know you better than you think. Therefore…”
“Then you should let me go.” Thorin cut in before Thranduil could finish his sentence. There was a bit of angry in his voice. Knew me? And you still keep me away from the thing that means the most to me? Thorin said to himself.
“You don’t know what you are facing. Does my lesson mean nothing to you?” Thranduil said angrily and because of that the ugly scars once again appeared on his flawless face. Thorin’s heard clenched at the scene. His hand curled tight in attempt to not reach out and touch the elf’s face. There was reason in the Elven King’s argument. That Thorin could see but he had already decided so he turned away. Hurt look was on the King’s face. Had he known too well the stubbornness of a dwarf?
“I guess you won’t give up your foolish quest then.” Thorin was silent, gripping at the key in his pocket. “You give me no choice but to lock you here forever. Guard!”
As the King commanded, the guards come in and took Thorin back to his dungeon. Thranduil dropped himself on the couch, feeling helpless and sad. His hand traced the mark Thorin left on his chest and realized the key was gone. Yet he didn’t find it for he thought Thorin could never make out of his palace, with or without the key. Had Thranduil known about the little Hobbit, he would have guarded his kingdom more careful. After all, no one could win over what was told in the prophecy.