Title: More Than Gold
Pairing: Thranduil x Bilbo (mentions of past Thorin x Bilbo)
Rating: M (warnings: non con, emotional/physical abuse)
Summary: AU When a treasure long lost from the family of Thorin Oakenshield, a dwarvish king, turns up in the court of the elvish king of Mirkwood, Thorin trades his most prized possession for it: a hobbit slave he picked up long ago.
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Bilbo woke with a start, and was gingerly pulling his breeches up and pulling his rough woolen shirt over his head before he was even truly awake. He quietly slipped out of the soft cotton sheets he had woken in, and went out into the long stone hallway of Erebor.
He stretched, moaning as his spine gave a painful throb, but that was nothing new. Neither was the cold, drafty corridor he silently padded down on his bare, wooly feet, nor was anything that morning, or any morning for that matter in the last ten years.
Bilbo was a slave to the King Under the Mountain, having been taken from his homeland far west in the Shire when he was barely eleven. He still remembered that day.
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Bilbo stood with the other Halfling children, staring at the dwarvish war-party that stood stern and stoic in the town square. The king of Erebor, Thorin Oakenshield, walked slowly past the gathering of halfings, observing each child with a calculating glint in his cerulean eyes. His beard was dark, tied with gold beads and braids. He looked terrifying, and Bilbo shrank away, trying to hide behind his fellows. Certainly the dwarvish king had no need for a small hobbit-boy to make into a slave. Certainly he'd choose an older boy, someone larger.
Bilbo refused to look up as Thorin stopped in front of him. The Halfling stared at the enormous iron-clad boots.
"Look at me," Thorin's voice demanded obedience, and Bilbo slowly raised his head to look the war-king in the face. Thorin held Bilbo in his piercing gaze for a moment, before looking away, raising an armored hand. "This one," he said to his company. "Just this one."
Bilbo's poor mother had screamed, his father had cried, and yet neither did anything to stop the king from taking their son into slavery. What could they do, in the face of the conquering dwarvish king?
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Perhaps an hour later, Bilbo found himself back at the door he had left before day-break with a tray of food and coffee. He knocked, balancing the tray on his hip.
"Enter!" came the response, and Bilbo obeyed, bowing and keeping his head down as he reentered the King's bed chambers.
Thorin, his beard now just ever so slightly frosted in gray, lay in bed, still naked, and propped up on pillows. He hardly glanced at Bilbo as his servant set breakfast out for him.
"Is there anything else you require, sire?" Bilbo asked quietly when breakfast was laid out. Thorin didn't respond, and so Bilbo prepared to take his leave. There were other chores to be done.
"Wait." The king's voice made Bilbo freeze. "Come here."
Bilbo turned slowly, and made his way back to the bed. He stood at his king's side, waiting for the familiar command. His king smiled slightly, but it wasn't a friendly display.
"Disrobe." Came the command and Bilbo obeyed, pulling his tunic over his head and undoing the drawstrings on his breeches, letting them fall.
The cold air was familiar on his bare skin, but it still prickled and stung and made goose-flesh appear on his smooth, pale skin. He stood naked in front of his king. Thorin looked at him once up and down, before motioning with his hand, "Come here." Bilbo knew his duties, and crawled onto the foot of the bed, turning away from his king. He felt the familiar hard, calloused hands on his back, before Thorin spoke again into his ear. "Bend over."
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Bilbo was gasping, grunting in pain as his back and hips ached painfully. His king was groaning over him, his breath in Bilbo's ear, deep within his favorite slave. Bilbo's knuckles were white as he grasped the bedposts, trying not to scream or wince. He had lost count now of how many times his king had taken him like this. It had started just before Bilbo had turned thirteen, after a year of service as the king's personal slave. The king had done exactly what he had done half an hour before, and taken him just like this.
There was a sudden knock on the door, and Bilbo's head came up, staring at the door to Thorin's chambers. Thorin never even missed a beat in his relentless rhythm in his hobbit.
"Enter!" he commanded, and a dwarf dressed in the garb of the imperial messenger opened the door, walking straight into the room before going to his knees in a bow. Bilbo dropped his head in shame, covering his face with his dark golden curls. "Why do you disturb me?" Thorin asked. Bilbo could feel his annoyance as his thrusts became deeper, more vicious. Bilbo whimpered, and the messenger glanced up at the naked Halfling, before returning his attention to the king.
"Sire, we found it," He said simply.
Thorin froze mid thrust, and suddenly Bilbo found himself alone on the bed. Thorin threw a robe around his bare body. "Found what?" he asked slowly.
"The arkenstone."
Thorin's entire body froze. Bilbo saw the familiar golden glint in his flinty eyes. He motioned to Bilbo. "Get out."
Bilbo hurriedly dressed, scooting past the messenger, who watched him yank his trousers up with a dark look in his eyes.
"Where?" he heard Thorin ask urgently.
"Mirkwood."
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Bilbo sat passively naked at the foot of Thorin's bed as his lord packed in an almost fevered frenzy. The hobbit studied his own pale, scarred thighs. After the messenger had departed, Bilbo was called again to the king's chambers, and the king proceeded to ravish his pet again, before immediately getting up and packing his belongings.
"Varag," Bilbo looked up at the use of one of his pet-names, "what troubles you so?"
Bilbo studied Thorin's face for a moment. It wasn't uncommon for his lord to ask him questions, however for Thorin to be sincerely concerned was unusual. "Why must you go to the Woodland Realm?" he asked finally.
Thorin straightened from where he was tying his pack together. "A treasure, my pet, has been found by the elves…a treasure long an heirloom to my family. It is my duty as king to return it to the throne." Thorin smiled, and Bilbo felt his face flush.
Though a slave, little more than property to the king—and bearing the scars from lashes to prove it—Bilbo was fond of his lord and missed him when he was gone. And, though Thorin would kill the dwarves if he ever found out, Bilbo was seen as sport to the guards when the king was away, and the guards were not so gentle with the small creature.
Thorin cupped Bilbo's face in his calloused hands. "You miss me when I leave you, do you not?" Bilbo nodded obediently. "Fret not," Thorin touseled Bilbo's curly golden hair, "you'll come with me. For the nights are long and cold without my varag to warm my feet."
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And so Bilbo departed with his lord and his guards, walking as was his role beside Thorin's thick-legged sturdy pony. It was a long journey to the halls of the woodland king, however that journey was just the beginning…
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I apologize for the cheesy ending, this WILL get better I promise! On the next episode of More Than Gold: a betrayal…and a new master!