This story in my Thorinduil series involves Ethril, an elf we have met already in King of the Marble Halls. The elven king asked him to pretend to be his lover in order to trick Thorin and make him feel rejected – for his own good. Everything finished happily, hut was Ethril really trying to be a good friend when he agreed to help, or did he have an ulterior motive?

First of three chapters.

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The Kings and the Elf Lord

Chp I

Strength

In Mirkwood, Ethril was waiting for the return of Thranduil, his king. It seemed to him sometimes that this was all he had done for the past year. No - more than that: it seemed that he had waited for him half a lifetime.

Hundreds of years ago, when Thranduil had first met that mad woman who became his wife, he had seen straight away that the marriage was doomed to failure. And he had waited then, too. Everyone had known about their terrible rows and noted how often the queen set out with her young son, Legolas, on extended visits to her Noldor kin. Before the queen's absences became so frequent that they were commonplace and Thranduil just began to shrug at them, Ethril had done his best to support the king through those initial lonely months quietly bringing food to his apartments when he forgot to eat, playing and singing to him when he seemed distressed, combing his lustrous hair and straightening his garments when he lost interest in his appearance and even disrobing him and helping him to his bed when he had drunk too much wine. "Thank you, my friend," the king would say, glad to have such stalwart retainers among the elf lords at his court.

But Ethril did none of this out of friendship. For years he had been obsessed with Thranduil and, by always being at his elbow, he hoped that one day the king would reward him with the pleasure of his body and his bed. And always he seemed so tantalisingly close. When he brought him food or sang him songs, Thranduil would reach out and softly squeeze his hand in thanks; when he combed his hair, the king would close his eyes and sigh and ask him not to stop and when he undressed him for bed and suffered the agonising titillation of being so near to that beautiful body which he touched briefly as he laid the elven king between cool, laundered sheets, then Thranduil would reach up and pull his head down towards him and kiss him – but always on the forehead: never on the lips.

His immortality gave him patience: in the end, he was confident that his lust would be satisfied. He thought his moment had come when he saw the queen riding away with her ladies one day – but, this time, without the young Legolas. He hastened to Thranduil's apartment and there he found his lord standing by a window with a stunned and blank look on his face. "She has left me," he said. "She has abandoned both me and Legolas."

And Ethril had wrapped him in his arms in such a way that indicated the comfort of a friend. But, when Thranduil had embraced him back, he had dared to kiss him on the mouth. For a moment, the king had drawn away, but then he had closed his eyes and had opened his lips to him. Ethril felt triumphant. But that triumph was short-lived as the child, Legolas, came running into the room. The two broke apart and Legolas flung himself weeping into his father's arms. "She's gone!" he cried. And Ethril felt obliged to withdraw from the room.

The whole business was, in fact, a set-back for Ethril. Thranduil had hidden himself away from the court and even from his son. And, when he reappeared, he was more distant and more icy than he had ever been before.

But there came the time when he had accompanied Thranduil to Erebor. His king was required to pay homage to Thror and he had intended to set out with the now adult Legolas, a number of his courtiers and a substantial armed guard. As they made to mount their horses, a tired messenger came riding up with the news that the queen was dead. Legolas gave his father a stricken look, his eyes full of blame, and strode back into the palace. Thranduil seemed frozen to the spot for a moment but then mounted his horse, his face stern and set. The others followed suit and they had ridden off to Erebor.

Ethril saw another opportunity here: tonight he would go to the king's rooms and offer him comfort again. But an extraordinary and unexpected thing happened. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror had stood by his grandfather's throne and the elf lord could see that this unusually handsome dwarf had drawn the eyes of his king. He watched Thranduil as Thranduil watched Thorin and he couldn't believe what he was seeing. And when both the dwarf prince and the elven king had retired to their rooms, he had hastened to Thranduil's chamber, only to find that he wasn't there. And he guessed exactly where he must be and had gone back to his own room in a fury.

He had hardly slept that night, imagining the two of them together. But, then a servant had summoned him to the courtyard where he found that Thranduil was leaving, even before the dawn. And he grinned to himself when he saw the look on his king's face. There was hope for him yet.

Half-way home, and the dragon had come, sweeping over their heads, making the trees bend in a terrifying way; and Thranduil had turned his army back towards the Mountain. The sight that met their eyes was a dreadful one: Dale and Erebor were devastated and dwarven refugees flooded the plain. He could see Thorin and the dwarf looked up and waved frantically to them. But, Thranduil had given him a cold stare and turned his back on him. Good, Ethril had thought. And then they had returned to the palace of Mirkwood.

That night, Ethril had gone to Thranduil's rooms in an optimistic mood and he was finally rewarded. It was obvious that Thorin had rejected him and he was in a fury. The elf lord was hardly in the room before he was pushed up against the door and the king was kissing him passionately. It was all to do with revenge, of course: revenge on Thorin. But Ethril had enjoyed the angry – even violent – night that he spent in the elven king's bed. At last! And he looked forward to many more nights as the king's lover.

But, when the morning came, he awoke to find Thranduil already dressed. And then he had quietly and politely apologised and said that it would never happen again, before making his exit from the room.

The king had withdrawn from his court again and, when he had reappeared, it was as if that night had never happened and they were back to being just good friends again. He became more distant still and ordered his court to stay within the confines of Mirkwood and have nothing to do with the outside world. And so things had dragged on until, years later, the dwarf had made a reappearance as Thranduil's prisoner.

He never had found out what occurred in the dungeons, although he could imagine. But things happened very quickly after that: the dwarves had escaped, Smaug had been slain, a great battle had been fought and, suddenly, the kings were an inseparable pair.

Ethril felt frustrated and angry: all his years of hard work had gone to waste and now Thranduil spent much of his time in Erebor and the elf lord was reduced to a life of waiting once more. That one time had definitely not been enough: it had only sharpened his desire, provoked further by a brief split between the pair when Thranduil had asked him to 'play' at being his lover so that Thorin would believe that he had truly lost him. The kisses they had shared were a reminder of what could be between them and the elf lord was determined not to give up his pursuit.

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Balance

Meanwhile, back in Erebor, Thranduil and Thorin were coming to the end of a happy two weeks. The elven king had shame-facedly confessed to Brangwyn his foolish jealousy of her and she had hugged and kissed them both.

"What shall we do with you?" she tutted.

"Perhaps it's time for us to find you a husband so that you can be removed from the sphere of availability," laughed Thorin.

"But the problem is," she said with furrowed brow, "would I prefer a beautiful elven husband or a handsome dwarf? You two have raised the stakes." And they went merrily down to dine together.

Brangwyn encouraged them to spend a lot of time with the dwarven courtiers and with Thorin's old Company, who had really missed him in the previous year, and even to make frequent appearances in the town of Dale as it was rebuilt from the rubble. "It is good for the people to know you," Brangwyn advised Thorin, "and for them to see you with Thranduil too, so that they will accept your relationship and also be more ready to accept Dain's son as your heir.

And she was right because the dwarves became more tolerant and even approving of Thranduil as he moved among them and charmed them with his smiles, his pleasant words and his apparent admiration for dwarven culture. And if he had chosen their king above all others, surely that showed his appreciation of Erebor and its people?

And after two weeks, they set out for Mirkwood together. Brangwyn came to kiss them both goodbye and raised a warning finger: "Now don't you two go shutting yourself away in Thranduil's apartments. Mix with the elves as you have done with the dwarves and I am sure that you will win their hearts too."

Thorin wasn't so sure about that but he knew they had to try.

They stopped in the sunlit glade next to the pool and there they made love. Afterwards, as they lay entwined in each other's arms, Thorin sighed and said: "I hope that wasn't our last happy moment again. I rather fear the elf lords and how they will treat us. They obviously think that a dwarf is no suitable match for their king."

"I think," pondered Thranduil, "that perhaps we should martial some help. Ethril, my 'sophisticated friend', as you would call him, has been my staunch supporter over many years. You must turn to him for help, if help you need."

And, Thorin, remembering how the beautiful elf lord had kissed Thranduil and gazed at him tauntingly, frowned at the idea of asking him for help.

But, Thranduil laughed. "I know what you're thinking," he said, "but he is a good actor and put on that little love scene at my request. He would do anything for me, you know, and, by extension, for you."

And, Thorin decided that perhaps this was so and pulled his lover to him once more and managed to forget the lingering kisses that had passed between the king and his retainer.

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When Ethril saw his king arriving with the dwarf, he was disappointed and angry, for, many times over the past year, Thranduil had returned alone. But he moved forward smilingly and greeted them both.

And the elven king drew him to one side and said: "I need your help, my friend. We have decided that we shall no longer hide away in my chambers but will mingle with all who dwell within Mirkwood. Only in this way will they accept my relationship with Thorin. But, in this attempt, we shall need your assistance."

"But, of course," murmured Ethril. "Just tell me what I must do."

"I want you to befriend Thorin," he said. "Stay near him when I am not there and protect him from those who would make him feel unwelcome." And, in saying this, Thranduil was thinking of the useful role that Brangwyn had played in the dwarven court and how her presence and acceptance of them had helped to win the dwarf lords over.

And so, Thorin often found Ethril at their side and he was always there whenever his lover was not and the dwarf began to enjoy his company. But Ethril was finding it difficult to be pleasant to the dwarf. He looked at him and wondered what it was his lord king found so attractive, why he chose Thorin over himself. He could see that the dwarf was handsome but he could not understand why his bearded features would be more compelling than the beautiful, smooth faces of the elves. He surreptitiously examined his muscled body with its covering of hair when they went out bathing in the rivers and thought it looked brutal and animalistic. What was the appeal of that? He wondered about his performance in bed and if that was the dwarf's secret. But the elves had thousands of years of knowledge behind them and he couldn't believe that the dwarves were any better versed in the ways of pleasing a lover.

When Thranduil had asked for his help persuading Thorin that their affair was over so that the dwarven king would get married and produce an heir, he had revealed to Ethril all that he had said and done in his attempts to drive him away: and a major tactic had been to tell Thorin that he was tired of him in his bed and that he could no longer cope with his boring love-making.

Ethril smiled to himself and decided that he had found the dwarf's weak spot. He would set to work upon that straight away.

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Next chapter: Agility and Creativity. Ethril finds some novel ways, with the aid of various ancient books on the art of love-making, to undermine Thorin's confidence in himself. Will he manage to trick both Thorin and Thranduil?