The two heirs are being difficult after what they witnessed in Thorin's bedroom. Can Thorin and Thranduil talk some sense into them? A big thank you to my followers. There will ultimately be 12 stories in this series, ending on a double wedding! The way things are going, it will be surprising if anyone makes it to the altar, LOL!
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The Kings and their Heirs
Chp I
Embarrassments
After those two incredibly embarrassing moments when Legolas had caught his father in bed with Thorin, and then Dain's son, the heir to the throne of Durin, thought he had seen Thorin, Thranduil and the dwarf-woman, Brangwyn, in a compromising situation, the two kings had only been prevented from dashing off after the two princes by Brangwyn, who wisely advised that they should give the pair at least a day to calm down.
That night, Thorin and Thranduil lay side by side in bed together, without touching. Every time they moved towards each other, they remembered Legolas standing in the doorway, looking in horror at them as they had thrust and panted in the throes of love. And their guilt extinguished the fires of their lust. "Will we ever be able to make love to each other again?" they both thought. "Or will that image always intrude?" And, if not that image, then perhaps the other of Young Thorin staring at them in disgust and shouting that Brangwyn was a whore. In the end, they tentatively reached out and touched fingers before falling into an uneasy sleep.
They scarcely spoke to each other the next morning but dressed in a desultory silence. And then Brangwyn came knocking on their door. She looked at the dark, purple bruises under their eyes and guessed that they had experienced a bad night.
"Looks as though you two didn't sleep much," she said sympathetically. "You'd better ride after Legolas to Mirkwood, Thranduil, whilst Thorin and I sort out Dain's son – otherwise I can see this business having a bad effect on your love life."
She always had such insight and they appreciated her concerned pat on their shoulders.
"Can you speak to Young Thorin first?" the dwarf king asked her. "I really don't know what to say."
"No," she replied with a grimace. "I think he hates me more than he does you two because he thought that somehow I would drop into his lap. Now he sees me as part of a ménage a trois and he can't forgive me because I've made him feel stupid. I think it's best if the first approach comes from you, Thorin."
Thorin nodded. He knew that Brangwyn had been warming to his heir in recent weeks and now he and Thranduil had put the dead hand on any romance that might have blossomed between the two of them. He owed her a decent attempt to set things right with the young prince.
They both helped Thranduil to pack and then escorted him down to the stables. "Good luck!" they called as he rode away.
After that, they set off for the Great Hall to eat breakfast. Unsurprisingly, Young Thorin wasn't there. "Still sulking, I expect," said Brangwyn. They managed to force a little food down and then, with a sigh, Thorin prepared a tray and made his way to his adopted son's room. Brangwyn gave him an encouraging wave from the end of the corridor and then went to wait for Thorin in his apartments.
The dwarf gave a quiet knock on the door and, when he received no response, he banged more forcefully. "It's Thorin," he said in authoritative tones. "Let me in!"
The door opened a crack and the young prince glared out at him. "I've got a tray of breakfast food for you here," said Thorin mildly and the lad opened the door a little more and took the tray without a word. Then, he went to slam the door shut. But, his king was too fast for him and shoved a big boot into the gap. With a grunt of annoyance, the lad turned away with his tray and marched back into his room with Thorin following closely behind.
The prince sat down silently and, ignoring Thorin, began to eat his food. His king sat down opposite and studied him for a few minutes. He was a very good-looking young dwarf, blond-haired, tall and muscular. Thorin could see why Brangwyn might be attracted to him. There was an arrogance about him that was off-putting but it was no worse than his own arrogance or that of Thranduil. And the lad came from the Iron Hills: perhaps, with such a poor background, he needed to be arrogant in order to feel comfortable amongst the splendours of Erebor. When his heir was in his company, he was always polite and distant but he had seen him laughing and giggling in corners with Brangwyn and he knew there was another side to him that he, personally, hadn't experienced yet. The young prince and Brangwyn were the same age – although the beautiful dwarf woman always displayed the sort of confidence and maturity that made her seem older than her peers – and Thorin could just about imagine the two of them together. They would make a handsome couple and doubtless Brangwyn would smooth over the lad's rough edges. And, when the time came, he could see them making great rulers of Erebor. In fact, he would feel more comfortable about leaving his kingdom to Dain's son if he knew that Brangwyn were by his side.
But, now, the possibility of that happening had been considerably lessened. Yesterday, Young Thorin had burst unasked into the room only to find his king lying naked on the bed and Thranduil, dressed only in his breeches, holding Brangwyn in what appeared to be a passionate embrace. There was a perfectly logical explanation for this, if only the prince had been willing to listen. Instead, he had flung out a few sentences of jealous abuse and had marched from the room.
Well, the one good thing was that the lad's reaction seemed bound up in a certain amount of jealousy over Brangwyn. He appeared drawn to the dwarf woman as she to him and, if it had been another woman in the room, then doubtless he would have shrugged and laughed at the embarrassing scene he had accidentally discovered. Thorin needed to work on that attraction in order to make the prince see sense.
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"Well," said Thorin. "Have you got over yourself yet?"
The lad looked up and gave him a sullen glare before returning to his food.
"That scenario yesterday was nothing like you imagined it to be," the dwarf continued. "Brangwyn is our friend: nothing more." The prince bit his lip as if he had decided that a dignified silence was the best way forward but, in the end, he couldn't resist a retort.
"And, as I said some weeks ago: 'the king's friend' is just another term for 'the king's whore'. You denied it then and I was inclined to believe you – almost. But, what I hadn't imagined was that both you and your lover were making up a threesome with her. You're just disgusting. Now, leave me and let me get on with my breakfast in peace."
Thorin didn't move. "You misinterpreted the scene," he said patiently. "Legolas had just burst in upon us together; Thranduil jumped out of bed and began to get dressed in order to follow him; then Brangwyn came running in to see what all the fuss was about, found Thranduil in a state and was just giving him a hug when you threw open the door and misread what you saw."
A momentary flash of guilt passed through Young Thorin as he remembered that he had provoked Legolas to check out what was going on between the two kings. Legolas was aware that his father and Thorin were lovers but Dain's son had suggested that they were involved in a threesome with Brangwyn. This was a thought pulled out entirely from his own imagination and explained his shock and disgust when he had actually found the three of them together. He could see the scene in his mind's eye really vividly, even now: the tall, lithe figure of the elven king was clasping the beautiful Brangwyn to his impossibly smooth and hairless chest whilst Thorin sprawled naked on the bed, apparently approving the embrace.
And it was the sight of his naked, adopted father that had really churned up his emotions. Thorin lay with his beautiful mane of black hair tumbling about a pair of great shoulders. The muscles of his arms and chest flexed powerfully as he made to get up from the bed and his legs were thick and straight. And what was worse, he was hung like…well, he didn't know what. But the princeling knew he could never compete with him. Brangwyn had chosen and he was not surprised at her choice. And a great wave of jealousy rolled through him. He wanted to snatch Brangwyn out of Thranduil's arms and he wanted, even more, to smash Thorin in the face. She must love Thorin very much to consent to this disgusting three-way relationship and a fearsome anger poured through his heart as he thought of how his king was using her.
He had yelled incoherently at all of them and then he had run back to his room and locked himself in for the night. He hadn't slept and he had spent his time wondering what he would say once he came face to face with them again.
And now he was face to face with Thorin and he found that the spleen easily poured forth. "Will you be teaching me this particular skill of kingship?" he asked politely.
"What skill?" said Thorin in a puzzled voice.
"The ability to lie," the prince snarled. "It must be so useful when you're involved in a diplomatic mission." He pushed his plate of half-eaten food away from him. "Your relationship with Thranduil is vile enough, but to drag Brangwyn into your sordid affair is beyond disgusting. I have no words for it."
You seem to be finding plenty at the moment, Thorin thought to himself. But, then he tried again. "I've just told you the truth," he said. "I have never had any sexual relationship with Brangwyn and Thranduil and I have loved each other – and only each other - for years. You must believe me."
"But you see," said his heir, rising from his chair and glaring at him across the table, "I just don't. Now, get out of my rooms. You are not welcome here. I shall return to my real father in the Iron Hills tomorrow. He will be equally disgusted when he hears of the decadence of this court."
Thorin knew that he could do no more – at least for the moment. And he returned to his apartments.
"No luck?" asked Brangwyn.
"No," sighed Thorin. "He refuses to accept the truth. And you seem to be right. The fact that he believes that you are involved has made him angry and jealous. I don't want to send you to him when he's in such a foul mood but perhaps he is more likely to believe you. And we've got to do something because he is threatening to go back to the Iron Hills."
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In Mirkwood, Thranduil was meeting with equal intransigence. "I've never been so repulsed by anything in all my life," spat Legolas. "I knew you two were lovers, but until I was confronted with the truth of what that meant, it didn't seem so bad. But that….that was obscene! And with a dwarf, too! Our line is shamed by such a relationship."
Thranduil, who thought his intimacy with Thorin was rather beautiful, turned in exasperation on his son. "And when did you ever have a physical relationship with anyone, Legolas, to understand what is and what is not repulsive? And when were you ever invited into our bedroom? If you really must burst into someone's private rooms, then expect to be shocked by what you see there!"
"I may not have been intimate with anyone yet," returned the young prince, "but when I am, it won't be with a member of the same sex and it certainly won't be with a dwarf. Every time I look at you, father, images of the two of you together flash into my mind and I feel quite sick. Now, leave me and go back to Erebor. I cannot bear to look upon your face!"
With a sigh of frustration, Thranduil retreated to his own apartments. Would there ever be an understanding with his son? And he wondered if Thorin were making any headway with his adopted heir back in Erebor.
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Next chapter: Explanations. Warning for those who might be affected by such scenes: there is a moment of attempted non-con in this part of the story, although nothing too violent.
Thranduil continues to argue with Legolas and Brangwyn tries to talk sensibly with Young Thorin. But, are they listening?
