I have designated this story M when usually my stories are all T. This is because I know that some people might react badly to the non-con subject matter in the last chapter. Just wanted to be on the safe side.

Thorin begins to check out Thranduil's friends in his jealous attempts to work out who will be the elf's next lover. There seem to be three possibilities. Will it be Talagan, the elegant, beautiful musician who plays the harp so wonderfully, or Lady Glamel, who entertains with her quick wit and her even quicker tongue. Or, what about Maelon, the best swordsman at Thranduil's court with his supremely fit and powerful body?

Oh, Thorin! Can't you just let well enough alone and be happy?

.o00o.

Chp II

Circle of Friends

One evening, as Thranduil was chatting to a group of his councillors, Thorin turned to Legolas and expressed his enjoyment of the time he was spending in Mirkwood. "Yes," said Legolas, "it is true that the pleasures here are somewhat more sophisticated than those of Erebor." And he smirked.

Thorin bit his tongue and continued: "I am beginning to be well accepted by the elven lords in general but would now like to make the acquaintance of individuals. I think it would please your father."

Legolas agreed and glanced around the room. "Shall I introduce you to a few of my friends?" he asked.

"Well," said Thorin with a certain measure of cunning, "perhaps it would be better if I got to know your father's friends and then that would be a relationship that we could share. Are there any here present of whom your father is fond and whose company you think I might enjoy?"

Legolas furrowed his brow and then began pointing to a few in the room. "Over there is Talagan," he said, indicating a languid elf lord who was lounging in the corner and plucking idly on a harp. "He and my father are often deep in conversation about music."

Thorin tried hard not to glower too obviously at this slender, elegant competition and turned his attention to a beautiful elf woman who was surrounded by a gaggle of admirers. "That's Glamel," continued Legolas. "She's very witty and makes my father laugh."

The dwarf felt a surge of envy. He himself was rather dour, he thought: not exactly silver-tongued nor did he often make people laugh, unless by accident. Her company must make a delightful change after his.

And that's Maelon," said Legolas. "He's one of our greatest fighters: very physical. He and my father often practise their sword-fighting together." Then he sighed. "What a body! One of Mirkwood's finest specimens, I should think."

Well, thought Thorin, Thranduil reckons that I've got a good body too. But…this one was taller, smoother, with golden hair and lithely muscled limbs. And just look at those cheek bones! They could cut paper. And Thorin found himself wondering how well-endowed he was.

"That's about it," Legolas was saying. "He has never had many friends, especially now that Ethril has gone." And he gave Thorin a side-long glance and the dwarf wondered how much Legolas knew about the incident that had resulted in Ethril leaving for Elrond's court. "My father's too arrogant for these Silvan elves. Few of them are good enough for him." And then he looked surreptitiously at Thorin once more as if thinking that a dwarf was yet a further step down the ladder and that he couldn't understand the attraction, no matter what his father had said on the matter.

Thorin glanced across at Thranduil and saw that he was still deep in conversation. "Will you introduce me to Talagan?" he asked. And Legolas willingly led him across the room.

"May I present Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain," said Legolas. And when he saw the faint look of surprise, he added: "I believe that you may have a common interest in music." Then he withdrew, leaving Thorin to sit down beside the elf.

The dwarf reached out and ran his fingers over the harp gently. "I've heard you play," said Talagan, handing the instrument over to him. "Who would have thought that such large hands would have so light a touch?" And he smiled to show that no insult was intended.

Thorin picked out a melody on the harp. "Music is one of my obsessions," he murmured.

"And Thranduil, I believe, is your other," the elf lord grinned. "An excellent combination, I would agree."

"And have you also more than one obsession in your life?" Thorin asked politely.

"No," was the response. "I am waiting for a Thranduil to come along to fill that particular hole."

Thorin's whole body clenched. Was that a hint? A double entendre, even? Was Talagan, like Ethril, prepared to wait until the king's mortal lover met his end, as meet it he must? And the dwarf's original intention of liking and becoming reconciled to Thranduil's future bedmate vanished in a puff of smoke. He imagined the two of them in bed together with Thranduil filling Talagan's 'particular hole' and a powerful sexual jealousy roared through him. He stood and excused himself as politely as he could before he felt obliged to kill him.

He left the Hall and hurried back to Thranduil's chambers. But, there he had a calming bath and climbed into bed where he prepared for his lover. They had hardly spoken since the argument this morning but now he needed him in his arms. Thranduil, noticing his absence, soon followed after and was relieved when he found Thorin naked in his bed. The elf stripped and climbed in quickly beside him, then made to slide gently on top of him. But Thorin grasped him and roughly rolled him beneath his body, where, forcing one of his thighs up to his chest, he thrust into him.

The elf laughed rather shakily. "Ready, I see," he panted as he felt the dwarf's oiled length slip easily inside him.

"Yes," grunted Thorin. "I missed you today and could wait no longer."

The silence was only broken by the gasps of pleasure, but then Thorin suddenly said between the thrusts, "I met a friend of yours this evening. Talagan."

"Yes, I suppose he's a friend," Thranduil panted. "We share an interest in music."

"So. I. Understand." Thorin's staccato words were punctuated by a series of forceful stabs, making the elf groan and writhe.

He thrust one last time and they circled slowly down in one long spiral of pleasure until, bathed in sweat, they broke apart from each other, the elven king thinking how very, very lucky he was to have as his lover an heir of Durin who possessed one rather valuable asset.

There was a gasping pause until the elf suddenly said: "Mind you, best not to get too friendly, Thorin, because he's just about the most boring person I know. All he can talk about is his wretched harp. Makes me want to nod off." And he gave a splutter of laughter.

Thorin relaxed on a long sigh and mentally crossed Talagan off his list. His arm slid around his lover's waist and he kissed him tenderly. "Guess how much I love you?" he muttered sleepily.

Thranduil yawned: "Probably just about as much as I love you," he replied.

Then they both fell fast asleep in each other's arms.

.o00o.

Well, will Thorin stop in his Sherlock-like pursuit of possible future lovers? I don't think so: he's on a roll. Next week, in the third and final chapter, Secrets and Lies, he gets to meet two more of Thranduil's friends and, with one of them, bites off far more than he can chew. He's set on a dangerous and destructive path that could finish his relationship with the elven king.