At last! The wedding day – and night!
Final chapter of my final Thorinduil story?
.o00o.
Chp III
Wedding Day
The day of the double wedding dawned bright and sunny. Not that it mattered much inside the vast and gloomy marble halls of Erebor but it cheered Thranduil's retinue as they accompanied their king to the Lonely Mountain. The ceremony and the feasting would be held within the dwarven kingdom but part of the honeymoon would be spent in Mirkwood. And Thranduil smiled as he thought of the preparations he had made to receive his beloved back in his elven palace.
That morning, after their arrival, the four lovers were kept apart, to bathe and perfume their bodies and to adorn themselves in their finery. Then everyone descended to the Great Hall of Ceremonies where Thorin and his heir waited close to the altar dedicated to Mahal, upon which oaths were sworn, whilst Thranduil and Brangwyn were kept apart in another room until the time of the Joining came.
Thorin felt more anxious than he had ever felt before and he looked across the aisle to where Dain glowered and tried not to show his discontent and to where Brangwyn's father nodded and smiled at him. He was a fine man who had once been a great smith but now his illness had made him gaunt and pale. Yet, his eyes still twinkled, just like Brangwyn's. "I am glad I have lived so long to see you married," he had said to her. "And now I shall fight to live a little longer to see my first grandchild."
Then the king looked across at his heir who was dressed in a similar outfit to his own – and very nice he looked too, thought a totally unbiased Thorin. The stage was set and he made a gesture for the ceremony to begin.
A group of elves plucked at their harps and sang a sweetly harmonious elven song. And, after that, a choir of dwarves sang a marriage song, a capella and with deep harmonies. Then both elves and dwarves sang an anthem together, one that had been especially composed for the occasion. At this point, the great bronze doors at the end of the hall swung open and Thranduil processed down the room with Brangwyn on his arm.
The hall echoed with appreciative claps and cheers. Brangwyn looked stunning in her ivory gown, with her glittering coronet holding the beautifully worked veil in place. Thranduil looked equally stunning in his sweeping white and silver surcoat and, with one of his twisted mithril crowns on his platinum hair, he did indeed look like a star shining through the trees at night. Thorin heard the young prince gasp and thought perhaps that he had done the same and he smiled with joy as the one he loved approached him down the aisle.
Thranduil handed Brangwyn over to her betrothed and the young pair approached the altar for the more traditional ceremony. The choirs sang more songs, the couple swore their oaths with their hands clasped on the altar and young children threw a million flower petals over them.
Then it was Thorin and Thranduil's turn. Balin had written a special and wonderful contract for them so that their partnership would seem just as moving and binding as the regular wedding ceremony. And, as he read the words over them, they looked into each other's eyes and the tears came into them as they thought of their love and the long years they had wasted when they had been apart. Then they swore their oath on the altar and the whole hall rang with cheers.
After that, it was time for the hours of feasting in the Great Dining Hall. The tables were groaning with food and beautifully decorated with flowers. And, true to his word, Thorin had made sure that there was a mountain of the type of green food that the elves loved to eat. He gazed across the table at his lover and passed the time counting the number of buttons down the front of his surcoat and making calculations as to how long it would take to undo the lot. Not very long, he decided.
Thranduil, for his part, gazed intently back at Thorin and wondered what gold and mithril ornaments lay hidden under his gown. He just couldn't wait until they were alone together so that he could explore his body.
As the evening came on, it was soon time for the younger pair of lovers to depart. Young Thorin mounted a white horse and Thorin lifted Brangwyn up in front of him. "Goodbye, for the moment, dearest friends," she said to both the kings. And she blew kisses down to them. And then, to the waves and cheers of the assembled throng, they rode off on the short distance that separated Erebor from newly rebuilt Dale where they had hired a mansion for their time together.
Thorin and Thranduil turned and bowed to their retainers; then they were obliged to descend to the hall again for further toasts and drunken singing. Finally, to much cheering, kindly jests and applause, they went off hand in hand to Thorin's apartments. Tomorrow, they would set out for Mirkwood.
.o00o.
Young Thorin and Brangwyn lay wrapped in each other's arms in a post-coital haze.
"Well," said the prince smugly, "if that doesn't produce a grandchild, then I don't know what will."
"Now, none of your arrogance," laughed Brangwyn, digging him in the ribs. "It takes two, you know."
Young Thorin kissed his wife gently on her cute little nose. "Was ever a couple so happy?" he whispered.
"Unless it's Thorin and Thranduil," was the response.
"I don't know about that," said Durin's heir with a slight frown. "All this arguing. How long before their contract is broken, do you think?"
"Oh, don't worry about that," replied Brangwyn, burrowing more tightly into his side. "Their contract will only be broken by Thorin's death. And then," she sighed sadly, "I expect that Thranduil will either fade or go into the West. But," she added more cheerfully, "in the meantime, their rows are all part of who they are. I reckon they only have them in order to make up afterwards. It means that the love-making is more intense, you know."
"It does?" blinked the prince. "Yes, I suppose it must do. We'll have to try it some time. But….meanwhile…..I like it our way." And with a grin, he rolled once more on top of his beautiful bride.
.o00o.
Thorin and Thranduil were not arguing. In fact, they were standing quietly in the middle of a candle-lit room. The elven king smiled gently at his lover as he looked about him: "Two minds that think as one," he said. "I have decorated my bedroom in Mirkwood in exactly the same way." And he gave a glance of appreciation at the flowers and the branches of greenery and the petals that strewed the coverlet.
Thorin shrugged modestly. "Thought you'd like it," he muttered.
"Yes, I like it very much," whispered the elf, pulling Thorin to him. Their kiss was long and slow and full of love. Then the dwarven king rested his great head on Thranduil's chest and fondled his lover's nipple through the white silk.
"Twenty-two," he murmured.
"Twenty-two what?" asked Thranduil in surprise.
"Twenty-two buttons. But I've calculated that it will only take me about ten seconds to undo them. I've been working on that all evening."
Thranduil laughed and held wide his arms. "Let us see, then, shall we?" And Thorin's surprisingly nimble fingers raced down the front of the gown. He finished half-kneeling on the floor, at the lowest button.
"Is that a record?" he grinned looking up at the elven king. And then, as the front of the robe fell open, he saw that Thranduil had been telling the truth and, with a sigh, he ran his huge hands up his lover's naked thighs and hips and waist and chest until he finally slipped the surcoat off his shoulders and let it slide to the floor.
"What could be more beautiful?" he groaned, kissing the elf's white throat.
"Only you, my love," whispered his king tenderly. And then he speedily removed Thorin's fine clothes until they were standing naked together. "Now for an interesting exploration," he said, his voice tight in his throat. And he lifted the dwarf in his arms whilst Thorin wrapped his legs about his slender waist. And then, in three short strides, he carried him to the bed.
The elven king examined his lover's body, starting with his head. He tucked back the thick, black hair and laughed to see how many rings and cuffs Thorin had managed to insert into his ears; then he sucked every one.
Further down, he lingered over the nipple ring. "I do love this," he said, "even though I shudder when I think of you allowing it to be done to your beautiful body." And he spent some time playing with it with his teeth and tongue.
Then he moved a caressing hand across to the other breast. "This is new," he murmured. "What is this?"
"A nipple clamp, or so they tell me," was the grinning response. "A whole load of stuff was brought up to me from the hoard which they said I might like to keep safely in a private collection in case they caused offence to those who might otherwise come across them. I had no idea what any of it was and, in the end, I had to ask Dwalin." Thorin let out a roar of laughter. "I chose the right person. He gave me a detailed commentary and I let him take a few things away for his own use as payment for his time and information."
Thranduil worked on down Thorin's body and found another new piercing through his navel and more clamps and rings and a plug. "Oh, my love," he laughed. "why didn't I notice that you rattled when you walked?"
Thorin looked quite hurt. "I thought you would find it stimulating," he muttered.
"In small quantities," was the smiling reply.
And when the dwarf huffily turned his back on him, Thranduil wrapped him in his arms and whispered in his ear: "You don't need all these extra bits and bobs to stimulate me, beloved. If I need stimulation, then you are the thing itself: just unadulterated, pure, beautiful Thorin." And he slid a hard and oiled erection deep inside him. "What other plug do you need?"
It was a long and tender night. In the morning, they sat at either end of a warm bath together. Thranduil stretched out a toe and flicked Thorin's nipple ring with it. "I'll let you keep that one," he grinned.
Thorin lay back in the water and gazed at the elf through half-lowered lids. He couldn't believe that this ethereal creature had only yesterday committed himself to love him for the rest of his days. He closed his eyes and felt utter contentment. What a feeling it was to be completely happy!
And Thranduil gazed back at his beautiful prize. Not in six thousand years had he felt so overwhelmed with the sort of love that he was experiencing now. A love for all time, he thought to himself. But, so little time. And his heart twisted with a piercing melancholy for the passing of all things and he thought of his own Fading once Thorin had gone. And, at last he realised for the first time, that this was a thing not to be feared but to be embraced; and he also closed his eyes on a contented sigh and let the warm waters of the bath flow over him.
.o00o.
Postscript
Everyone had at last gone from the lofty and gloomy crypt except for Brangwyn and Thranduil. They stood silently, in mutual grief, next to the great marble slab on which lay the body of Thorin Oakenshield. Finally, Thranduil reached out and gently touched his lover's cheek, but it was as cold as any stone. He swallowed hard and Brangwyn covered his hand with her own and softly drew it away.
"Why did he have to die?" asked the elven king. "And why do I yet live?"
"Because," was Brangwyn's quiet response, "he was a mortal dwarf and you are an immortal elf. It is the penalty that you both have paid for such a relationship."
She sighed. She was Queen of Erebor now and her husband was Thorin III and both of them were getting old too. "Our lives run quickly towards their bitter end but you have at least spent a hundred years with him."
"A thousand years would have been too short a time to spend with him whom I loved above all others."
Brangwyn slid an arm about the king's waist and gave him a comforting hug. "He was your One and your love will be the stuff of legend and song for centuries to come."
"He was beautiful to the end," said Thranduil, his eyes still fixed on Thorin's face. And Brangwyn had to agree. His great mane of silver hair was now spread out upon the stone pillow in luxurious abundance and the clipped white beard framed a handsome face, still strong and chiselled and fine in its advanced years.
"Did the two of you not prepare for this day?" she asked.
"Yes," replied the elf quietly, "but talking about things and actually experiencing them is not the same." And he cast his mind back over the previous few weeks when Thorin had lain dying on his bed, fading a little more each day, whilst Thranduil had sat next to him, holding his hand and, for the first time in his life, feeling totally helpless. "How do mortals handle such things?" he asked her in a stricken voice, tearing his eyes finally from that beloved face and gazing earnestly at Brangwyn.
"We remember them," she said. "We stand by their graves and we talk about our memories of them and we laugh as well as cry."
"Laugh?" asked Thranduil in disbelief.
"Yes," she smiled. "Do you remember that time when we four had been married for only a year and we all marched off to Balin demanding a divorce?" Her smile broadened. "That poor man! I think he felt like wringing all our necks."
And Thranduil let out a shout of laughter followed by a look of amazement that his laugh should echo around such a place as this. "See," she said. "It helps a little."
"Yes, a little," he agreed. "What else?"
"We hold to the thought that our loved ones are at peace and it is we, the ones who are left behind, who cry selfishly over our own pain. We should be happy for them and let go."
Thranduil thought for a while and then he bent forward and kissed Thorin one last time on his cold, cold lips: "An uich gwennen na ringyrn e-mbar han. Uich gwennen na'wanath a na dhin."
The words rippled like water through the Halls of the Dead.
"That's beautiful," said Brangwyn. "What does it mean?"
" 'You are not bound to the circles of this world. You are not bound to loss and to silence'," he replied. "But I am bound and I must bear that burden because of my love for him." He paused a moment. "And yet, the pain has been worth the price."
They stood for a little longer, gazing at what they had lost. And then they passed out of the tomb and into the sunlight.
.o00o.
Well, that's the last story in the series, everyone. But, who knows? There is still plenty of room for manoeuvre here, LOL! Perhaps a story about that demand for a divorce!
This has been a lovely journey for me, my first attempt at slash, and I hope you have enjoyed the ride too. Perhaps you should bookmark me, just in case I return, or read All About Thorin as a consolation prize. Let me know your thoughts, kind readers, because your interest, your kudos and your comments have been very much appreciated.
