Ethril, the elf lord, goes ahead with his plans to create a rift between Thorin and Thranduil. Will Thorin fall for his schemes and will Thranduil be deceived by the apparent evidence of his own eyes? Probably, or we wouldn't have a story, would we, LOL? Let me know if you are still enjoying this.

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Chapter 2

Agility

Thranduil was busy with his Council and Ethril was in his king's apartments keeping Thorin entertained. He was playing his harp and the dwarf was singing – and, in this, at least, the elf lord had to admit that Thorin was possessed of a very beautiful voice – although rather too deep and earthy for his tastes. They came to the end of the song and Ethril idly cast the harp aside.

"Do you mind telling me something?" he asked casually. And the dwarf waved a permitting hand.

"If there are few dwarf women and dwarves are so chaste, how do you find out about the art of love?"

"Well, how do you?" grinned Thorin in riposte.

"We have libraries full of literature," he answered, "and we read and learn from a whole range of books."

"Oh," said Thorin.

"So, what do you do?" the elf repeated. "Do you have books too?"

Thorin cleared his throat.

"No, no books," he laughed, trying to look confident. "I suppose we make it up as we go along. It's worked for me and Thranduil."

"Has it?" asked Ethril. And he injected just the slightest note of doubt into his voice.

Thorin remembered how Thranduil had scornfully told him of his unimaginative love-play but, later, had reassured him that it had all been a lie. And yet, now he wondered. Then he cleared his throat again. "Do you think I could see some of these books?" he asked.

"But, of course," smiled the elf lord. "In fact, I borrowed a couple just the other day and have them in my apartment. Would you like to look?"

Thorin muttered an affirmative and followed him from the room.

Ethril's chambers were elegant and tastefully attired with large windows that looked out over the forest and the river. He invited Thorin to sit up to a table and then brought out two weighty tomes. He opened one in front of him and, standing to one side, leaned on his shoulder so that he could turn the pages and look with him. Thorin swallowed hard. The books consisted mainly of drawings with a small amount of explanatory text written underneath.

"These two volumes," said the elf lord, "are concerned with love between male and male – something that I, myself, am particularly interested in, just as are you and Thranduil."

The dwarf felt uncomfortable sharing such explicit images with another and wished he had asked to take away the books to his own room. For, although the elf discussed the drawings in a cool and detached way, pointing to various body parts as if they were in an anatomy lesson, Thorin began to feel aroused as he thought of doing such things to Thranduil or Thranduil to him.

But, he also wanted to laugh and finally, as they moved on to the second volume, which the elf lord assured him was for more advanced pupils, laugh was what he did.

"Never!" he exclaimed. "I don't believe that position is possible."

"Oh, but it is, I assure you," said the elf lord coolly.

Thorin raised a quirky eyebrow. "So, have you tried it?" he asked in disbelief.

"Of course," was the amused response. "When you've lived an immortal life, then there is time to try most things."

"But, you've always implied that you've never had a lover," Thorin pursued.

"Not exactly," smiled Ethril. "But many of us, whilst we wait for that special One, experiment with the help of friends."

Thorin pulled a shocked face. With friends?! Somehow it didn't seem right. And seeing his look, Ethril gave a rather patronising smile so that the dwarf became aware of the elf's age and it made him feel very young and inexperienced.

"Don't look so shocked," he said, leaning forward to shut the book so that his face was very close to that of Thorin. "We tended not to go all the way, you know: just used each other to practise taking up the appropriate positions. And I have had one lover in all this time…" And a distant look came into his eyes as he thought of that one night with Thranduil. "And he appeared more than satisfied. So, the practice must have paid off."

Then he bustled around, packing the books away, pouring them both a glass of wine and changing the subject.

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Thranduil came home very late from the Council meeting, totally exhausted. He fell into bed and went straight to sleep whilst Thorin brooded on their love-making. Many of the drawings flashed before his eyes and he wondered if the elven king would enjoy it if he tried out some new idea. But, he didn't have the confidence. He knew he would fumble and perhaps his lover – so much more experienced than he – would laugh. And he began to understand why Ethril and the other courtiers had practised down the centuries.

And, worst of all, he brooded on his ignorance. Exactly how boring was he? And, even if Thranduil were being kind to him at the moment, how long would he tolerate such a naïve lover before he went in search of one who could offer him a far more entertaining night in bed? Those books had shown him the possibilities – possibilities far beyond his own simple imagination – and now he felt completely inadequate and miserable.

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Creativity

Thranduil was up early for another long session with the Council the next day and he left Thorin with many wretched thoughts buzzing around his head. Really, he should have joined all the elf lords in the main hall, but foolishly, he kept to Thranduil's apartments, just as Brangwyn had warned him not to, and thought long and hard about his relationship with the king. He knew he couldn't bear to lose him, and so, when Ethril knocked on the door late that afternoon to see if he could be useful in any way, Thorin decided to ask for his help. After all, that was what the elven king had told him he must do.

Hesitantly, he said: "Those books, Ethril…." And, when he trailed off, the elf lord raised an enquiring eyebrow. "I want to please Thranduil as best I may….and I think I need your help."

Ethril leaned forward and placed his hand on Thorin's. "You know that this is what I am here for," he said softly.

Thorin looked at him earnestly. "If you see me as a friend," he said, "then perhaps you can give me lessons in love."

The elf lord felt like leaping to his feet and clapping his hands gleefully. Instead: "It would be my pleasure," he said smoothly. But, not too much, too quickly, he thought. We don't want to frighten you away, do we? "Perhaps we can start with a small lesson in touching," he suggested.

Thorin nodded but looked quite anxious. Ethril had intended to push him and ask that he strip off all his clothes but then he decided only to suggest that he take off his breeches and shirt so that he was still modestly covered by his loincloth. When this was done, he gave him a little talk about sensitive points on the body other than the obvious ones, delicately touching each spot with a long, elegant finger and talking like a teacher. Nothing in his voice was suggestive and Thorin began to relax. Then he stripped off his own outer garments and, to test if Thorin had learned his lesson, asked him to go through what he had just shown him which Thorin did assiduously, his brow furrowed with such concentration that the elf nearly laughed.

"Now," he said, "close your eyes and pretend that I am Thranduil. Then touch me as if I am your lover."

This was easy for Thorin to imagine since Ethril was a similar height and build. The elf lord stood very close and Thorin caressed him, trying hard to find those particular points on his body that he hoped would rouse the elven king. He did this so effectively that it was Ethril who was startled.

It hadn't occurred to him, since he found the dwarf so unattractive, that he would be stirred in any way. But, as he had lightly touched Thorin's body in the initial demonstration and had felt those muscles ripple beneath his hand and the silken feel of his soft body hair he had been caught off guard at how he had responded. And now that Thorin was standing so close that he could smell him, he discovered that he was far from being repulsed by this, and as his long, black hair lightly brushed the elf lord's chest, his heart beat faster and he slid his arms loosely around the dwarf's waist. And Thorin reached out and touched him tenderly in all the right places and Ethril's breathing began to quicken.

"Very good," he said sharply and stepped abruptly away.

Thorin opened his eyes and asked anxiously: "Was that alright?"

"Yes, excellent," muttered Ethril, pulling on his clothes, "but I really must go now." And he hurried from the room feeling quite disturbed.

Thranduil came home late and tired again but Thorin was waiting for him in bed with a certain determination. When the king slipped between the sheets , he pulled him gently into his arms and began to touch and kiss him just as Ethril had shown him that afternoon. And, much to his delight, Thranduil was soon writhing and gasping with pleasure and his ecstasy culminated in an intense and passion-filled night. When the elf was finally lying exhausted in the dwarf's arms, he had time to realise that something had been different in Thorin's love-making….And he wondered drowsily where he had learned these new techniques before falling into a deep sleep.

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Ethril had had a bad night but he was still determined to carry out his plan. Tomorrow there was no meeting of the Council but he knew that Thranduil was riding out with his son, Legolas, that morning and he intended to be prepared for his return.

He sauntered along to Thranduil's chambers and, when Thorin opened the door, he grinned and said, "Well?"

Thorin grinned back. "No complaints," he said rather diffidently.

"How about another lesson, then?" Ethril offered and Thorin nodded eagerly.

And so, this time, stripped to their loin-cloths once more, they tried a few interesting positions. At first Thorin felt vaguely embarrassed and then he began to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "I hope that Thranduil appreciates what I'm going through in order to give him a night of pleasure," he chuckled. And Estril tried to laugh too but he still found the dwarf's nearness very disturbing and, besides, he was listening out very carefully for the sound of Thranduil's return.

They were on the bed in the chamber adjacent to the main room. Ethril had deliberately left the intervening door wide open and was careful to position Thorin with his back to it. His elven ears, so much sharper than those of dwarves, were alert to sounds coming to him over a distance. And when he was sure he could hear the elven king's footsteps approaching down the corridor, he suggested to Thorin that the dwarf gave him a demonstration of his kissing technique. Thorin complied, insecure as he was about everything at the moment and keen to know that, in this at least, he was a passable lover.

And so, he did not see Thranduil come into the outer room and stand stock still as he saw his lover and his friend kissing almost naked on the bed. He froze on the spot for one moment and then turned and silently slipped from the room.

"No problems there," said Ethril, rising from the bed and getting dressed. And Thorin was happy that, at least in this simple act, he passed muster.

Ethril smiled as he imagined Thranduil's response. Thorin would soon be gone from his king's life and then, when Thranduil confronted him, he would throw himself at the elven king's feet, begging for forgiveness and telling him how Thorin had seduced him. Of course, he would say, he had been afraid to refuse his advances because Thorin had threatened to take lies to Thranduil about coercion and forced intercourse. That should do it. The king would be so distressed that he would be desperate for comfort and Ethril would offer it to him. And, pausing to fantasise for a moment about the elven king's long, lithe body writhing against his own once more, he recalled in vivid detail that one time before: he could still hear that seductive voice moaning in his ear and feel those clever hands working on his body, and, most of all, he remembered the silken hardness that had pressed up against his belly and between his thighs.

And, if this particular ploy didn't meet with success, well, he had the endless years which would doubtless work in his favour.

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Thorin didn't see Thranduil all day and, when he thought to ask Legolas where his father had gone after the ride, his son just muttered and said: "More meetings, I expect." And it was so late before the elf finally returned that Thorin was already in bed. He slipped quietly into the darkened room and when he got into the bed, he was careful to keep to the far side of the mattress. He had shut himself away in the distant recesses of his palace for hours, thinking about what he had seen. He had been unjustly jealous once before and his reaction had been very violent. He didn't want to make a mistake this time. But, however often he turned things over in his mind, he could think of no innocent reason to explain what he had seen going on in his bed that morning.

But, he assured himself, this time he would demonstrate only a measured reaction, although it was proving very difficult because his lover had rolled towards him and had taken him in his arms. Now, he was making all sorts of salacious suggestions in his ear which, in some ways were arousing but, in others, sickened the elf lord to the pit of his stomach. Where did these ideas originate? He could only have got them from Ethril. And the king murmured that he had to go to sleep and, after turning away from a disappointed Thorin, stayed awake for the rest of the night.

Thranduil arose early and, when Thorin finally emerged sleepily from the bedroom, he told him coolly that there were so many emergency meetings of the Council in the coming week that he thought it best that the dwarf returned to Erebor. And when Thorin stepped forward to kiss him and to say that he didn't mind staying, even if the king were not there most of the time, Thranduil just turned away and suggested that he left that morning.

Thorin was baffled and confused. There was something wrong, he knew it. But Thranduil would discuss it no further. He was at a meeting when Thorin was ready to leave. The dwarf wrote a loving letter and left it on the bed but finally set out from Mirkwood with only Ethril standing at the gate to say goodbye to him.

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Next and Final chapter: Prostration. Well, I reckon that the only person who can sort this pair out is Brangwyn. Come back next week and find out how she does it!