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Un-fucking-believable, Thranduil thought. How had he, the best assassin in the country (he would like to think the best in Europe as well), managed to get himself captured by this mediocre, poorly skilled, piece of shit with a ridiculous name like Bolg? Un-fucking-believable.
Sighing, he supposed the how of it didn't really matter now. No, what mattered was how he was going to escape and in what manner he was going to exact his bloody revenge before making it back in time for his son's ballet recital.
Whilst he had many creative and imaginative ideas about the revenge part (most of which were gruesome and exceedingly painful), he had made very little headway with his actual escape. The room he was being kept in was of medium size and white washed (was that supposed to unsettle him?). He was tightly bound to a chair in the centre and no matter how much work Bolg's knife skills seemed to need, his ties were strong and well placed. Thranduil would not be able to wriggle out of this one.
If only they hadn't found his concealed blades, he thought forlornly. Well then, there was nothing for it but to wait, something Thranduil was very good at.
It had been perhaps three hours when his sensitive ears picked up a sound on the other side of the door. Thranduil disapproved. If it had been him, he'd have left him for three days, isolating him so he was desperate for attention. But, hmmmmm, that was curious, it didn't sound like a key...
Thranduil groaned when the door swung open. As if this day wasn't bad enough, now this fool had to turn up.
"Well, well, well fancy seeing you here Princess," the deep voice of the country's second best assassin drawled, a smirk spreading across his ruggedly handsome face.
"Shut the fuck up Bowman and get me out of here," Thranduil snarled in response, eyes tracking the movement of Bard as he circled him.
"Is that anyway to greet your rescuer?" Bard asked, the amusement evident in his voice as he bent to cut Thranduil's bonds. "You know, I really thought you'd be more grateful, afterall we both know Legolas would never forgive you if you missed another one of his dances, would he?"
Thranduil scowled, rubbing his newly freed wrists. Bard was insufferable at times.
"How did you know I was here?"
Bard shrugged. "I didn't. I'm here on a job. Turns out Bolg's taken something he shouldn't have and I'm here to get it back. Imagine my surprise when I overhear a couple of his minions gloating about capturing the great Thranduil Oropherion." Giving Thranduil a lazy smile, Bard continued, "I decided to investigate and it's a good thing I did, you seem to be in quite a tight spot".
Thranduil's scowl deepened. "I'd have found a way out eventually."
"Sure you would Princess. Now why don't you just thank me and then we can go?" asked Bard, moving to stand expectantly by the door.
Rolling his eyes, Thranduil replied, "You have my eternal gratitude. Now, let’s leave." And he made to brush past Bard but an arm snaked round his chest, pulling him close against the other man's front.
"You see, was that so hard," Bard murmured against Thranduil's neck, voice low and his breath whispering over the sensitive skin.
"I thought we were leaving?" Thranduil had meant it to sound dismissive but his tone was husky and he leaned back into Bard's warmth. Pressing a kiss to the base of Thranduil's neck before releasing him, Bard walked through the door.
"Don't worry Princess, we are."
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They meandered through the maze of white washed corridors without meeting anyone. Thranduil had known Bolg had built an underground labyrinth for himself but he'd underestimated the sheer size of the place. God knows how long Bard had been looking for him without finding anything he thought as he followed the other man around corners and up flights of stairs, trusting Bard's faultless memory and sense of direction.
They'd just reached the second level when Bard paused in front of a door.
"I think your weapons are in here. I assume you're wanting them back?" Thranduil didn't even dignify that with a response, simply aiming a swift kick at the handle, breaking the lock in one blow. Bard snorted. "What is it with you and theatrics? I could have picked the lock which is much quieter and doesn't leave a trace and you know it."
Thranduil shrugged, already walking into the room. "This was quicker." Bard shook his head but Thranduil didn't see. He was too busy gathering up his weapons.
His swords were fine thank God and he smiled at their reassuring weight as he strapped them to his back. Next, he went about re-concealing all of his hidden knives. Two in his boots, one in the hidden pocket sewn into his trousers and three strapped to his wrists (one on his left arm, two on his right.) Then, he twisted his silver blonde hair into a neat bun, securing it with three razor sharp pins. Finally, he picked up his revolver, enjoying the familiar feel of it in his hands.
Throughout it all, Bard let his eyes roam over Thranduil's form, smiling when the man turned to face him, an answering smile gracing Thranduil's face.
"So did you get what you came for before finding me or do you still need to find it?" said Thranduil, walking back over to Bard who still hovered in the doorway. In answer, Bard pulled an odd looking key from the pocket of his jeans.
"Got it."
Thranduil studied the key briefly.
"That's unusual. Do you know what it opens?"
Shaking his head, Bard answered, "No and I don't care. You know it's wise not to ask questions. And anyway, I'm being paid enough money that I'm not particularly bothered." Thranduil nodded. Clients didn't like it if you showed too much interest in their business.
Not needing Bard as a guide anymore, he stepped back out into the corridor, heading in the direction of the stairs. Bard fell into step beside him.
"So let me guess. We're heading to find Bolg whom, once found, you intend to humiliate and kill in front of his men before exacting your revenge upon them too?" Thranduil couldn't help but smile, Bard knew him too well, but otherwise didn't respond. Bard let out a long suffering sigh, correctly understanding Thranduil's silence as affirmation. "Well then, you probably ought to know, Bolg has made his headquarters in the first room to the left at the top of these stairs. There's two guards outside, both carrying semi automatic weapons and wearing large amounts of Kevlar, though their necks are exposed and it's really rather nice of them to make themselves such easy targets." Thranduil listened intently as Bard proceeded to inform him of all he had learnt of Bolg's defenses (which turned out to be ridiculously weak and poorly thought out). "Really, I'm not sure whether to be amused or disappointed that you allowed yourself to get captured by such a complete moron. I mean, it's a miracle the man even knows how to a point a gun," concluded Bard.
A few hours ago, Thranduil had been thinking along similar lines (not that he'd ever admit it) but now he was focused on thoughts of revenge and as he reached the top of the stairs, he leapt into action. Two knives flew from his hands, both burying themselves in the necks of the two men standing guard. As Thranduil elegantly knelt to retrieve his weapons, Bard tutted.
"What?" Thranduil snapped.
"You didn't leave one for me. How rude."
Thranduil's eyes rolled so hard it was a miracle he didn't strain them.
Once inside, it was all over rather quickly. Bolg's men were easily subdued (Thranduil would argue this was because of the sheer terror simply caused by his presence whilst Bard would maintain it had something to do with the semi-automatic weapon he pulled seemingly out of nowhere). Whilst Bard kept the men back, Thranduil stalked towards Bolg who was sat predictably in the centre of the room, like an arrogant king at court. Now however, there was no trace of arrogance on his ugly face, only made uglier by the fear twisting his features. He knew what was coming and likewise he knew there was no escape.
"Please."
Thranduil smirked, playfully tossing a wicked looking knife between his hands.
"You're going to have to do better than that Bolg," stepping closer to the cowering man, Thranduil pressed the blade to the side of his face, drawing blood. "Beg, and I might let you live."
"No he won't," Bard cheerfully broke in from somewhere behind them. "He's lying."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Thranduil let out an exasperated sigh. "Bowman, either be quiet or leave. You're ruining the effect."
"Fine, fine. Although, just to remind you, you have a ballet recital to attend in just over two hours so whatever you're going to do, do it quick."
So Thranduil did. And yes, it was painful (for Bolg that is). And yes, one or two of the others in the room may have actually vomited at one point but Thranduil thought Bolg should have counted himself lucky that he had somewhere else to be. Only for Legolas would he cut back his revenge plans.
Once finished, Thranduil turned back around to find the room empty except for him and Bard. Frowning he sought an explanation.
"What Princess?" Bard shrugged in response. "I let them go. Did you honestly think I was going to let you kill them all? They were just acting on his orders."
"They were far from innocent."
"Well second chances and all that crap," Bard answered, waving a dismissive hand. "And by the way, you've got blood in your hair."
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Out in the sunlight once more, Thranduil was greeted by the sight of a banged-up land rover and not much else. They appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, a muddy track which presumably led to a road, was the only way into the complex. Bolg's men had seemingly disappeared and Thranduil couldn't really bring himself to care.
"Why do you insist upon driving that thing? I know the rates you charge and you could buy something much better."
Coming up behind him Bard answered, "Oh I don't know. Principle I suppose. Plus I like it. Anyway, we've been through this before, not everyone is as ostentatious as you."
"Hmmmmm."
Smiling at Thranduil's disapproval, Bard moved even closer to the other man. "You know, we've still got an hour and half before the recital and it should only take 45 minutes to drive back into the city." Bard's voice was thick and low with suggestion.
Turning to face him and quirking an eyebrow, Thranduil smirked.
"What exactly are you saying?"
"Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm saying." And Thranduil most certainly did as he lunged forward, covering the last few inches between them in order to crash their lips together. The kiss was a filthy clash of tongues and teeth and Bard wound his hands into Thranduil's silvery hair undoing its clips and pulling slightly in the way he knew the other man liked. Rewarded with a small whimper of pleasure, Bard backed them up until they were pressed against the car.
Breaking apart, Bard kissed his way down the long column of Thranduil's neck, grazing his teeth against the pulse point.
"Outside?" Thranduil managed to gasp. "That's new." Looking up from his work, Bard smiled wickedly.
"You've always been up for trying new things." Becoming serious for a moment, Bard added, "Although if you're uncomfortable we can stop."
In response, Thranduil pulled Bard up for another searing kiss, hands moving to pull at Bard's t-shirt, wanting to get his hands on the warm, tanned skin. Smiling against the soft lips, Bard carefully unstrapped Thranduil's swords before yanking at Thranduil's own shirt, pulling it off in one smooth move before doing the same to his. The balmy evening air and each others warm bodies prevented them from becoming too cold.
Both now shirtless, hands wandered familiar patterns as they indulged in increasingly filthy kisses. Once again, Bard broke away to kiss a path down Thranduil's body. This time he continued on down past his neck, dropping to his knees in order to graze Thranduil's hip, pressing hard enough to mark and teasing a groan out of Thranduil.
Bard loved that sound.
Usually graceful hands scrabbled at trouser fastenings and soon Thranduil was completely devoid of clothing (and weaponry). He was hard and moaning as Bard teased him, scattering little kisses along the inside of his thighs.
Hands buried in Bard's hair, Thranduil dropped his head back. "Please Bard." The words were low and desperate and Bard grinned devilishly.
"You're going to have to do better than that Princess," he parroted Thranduil's earlier words back at him. But after a few moments he took pity and Thranduil made a delightful whimpering sound when he felt the warmth of Bard's mouth finally envelope his cock. The bliss ended all too soon however when Bard pulled away with an obscene popping noise. Seeing Thranduil's forlorn look, he stood up and grinned, leaning in close. "I fully intend to fuck you until you forget everything but my name so don't worry Princess."
Bard made good on his words and when Thranduil finally came apart underneath him, it was with Bard's name on his lips.
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"Come on, you'll need to get a move on if you want to make it to Legolas' show on time," Bard urged. Thranduil, always sleepy after sex, whined in protest but dragged himself up from where he'd been lounging on the car's hood. Then, the full reality of his situation hit him.
"I can't go looking like this!" Opening the front passenger door, Bard looked over his shoulder, appraising Thranduil boldly before smirking.
"Well no, you most certainly can't turn up to a children's dance recital naked."
Glaring at Bard in a way which would have left most people cowering, Thranduil replied, "You know what I mean. My clothes are covered in blood, I have rope burn on my wrists. Not to mention I need to get cleaned up after our little dalliance."
Raising one eyebrow at the word 'dalliance', Bard picked up the duffel bag on the front seat and tossed it to Thranduil. Then, he reached into the back to pull out a dry cleaning bag which he handed over much more carefully.
"There, everything you need to make yourself presentable Princess. Although, I must say I personally think you look beautiful just like this." And as if to prove his words, Bard pressed a soft, affectionate kiss to Thranduil's lips before turning to go pull his own clothes back on. Once finished, he turned back to find Thranduil already dressed in the suit he'd brought, hair in an intricate braid over one shoulder which happened to hide any blood it might have in it. He was just repacking the wipes he'd used to clean himself up and Bard had to admit, freshly washed and clothed in the perfectly tailored suit, the man looked stunning. His tall frame and piercing blue eyes adding an imposing air which had ceased to work on Bard ages ago.
Hoisting the bag onto one shoulder, Thranduil made for the passenger the door before turning to look at Bard, a frown on his face.
"I thought you said you didn't know I was here. And don't say you just happened to have this stuff in the car because I know you know this is my favourite suit."
Holding his hands up in surrender, Bard exhaled softly. "Okay, okay. But you were supposed to be back early this morning and I got slightly worried. Then, Percy called saying he thought he saw you being shoved into a car! Of course I was going to come get you. Just like I know you'd come for me." That made Thranduil smile. Really, considering how much he worried, Bard was in the wrong business. But he warmed Thranduil's heart nonetheless. "Now let's go, we're on a time limit."
The drive back into the city was quiet, both men enjoying the companionable silence and when he pulled up just down the street from the theatre where Legolas was performing, Bard leant over to give Thranduil a quick kiss.
"Wish him luck from me and tell him I'm sorry I couldn't be there too." Nodding, Thranduil went to get out of the car. "Wait," Bard pulled a ring from his jeans pocket. "You almost forgot this." And he gently slid it onto Thranduil's left hand. Thranduil never liked to take it with him when he went on jobs, said he didn't want to lose it. "Perfect. What time will you two be home?"
"I imagine somewhere around nine."
"Okay. I might let Tilda stay up. She always like to see her Ada when he gets back from his 'business trips'. Well, have a nice time."
"I will," casting a look into the back, Thranduil added, "Could you clean the knives when you get home, I'll be too tired when I get in."
Rolling his eyes, Bard nodded. "Only for you Princess"
Thranduil smiled as he watched Bard pull away. His husband was far too good to him.