Category: Lord of the Rings

Rating: M

Couples: Elrond/Thranduil

Warnings: AU, Blood, Torture, Slash, Character Death (sorta)

Chapter: 14

Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien, Plot & OC´s © by me

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"So, crisis averted." Thranduil looked at Elrond, studying the half-elf lounging in the great bath with him.

"It would seem so." Elrond sighed in pleasure at the warm water. "Now off to new challenges."

Thranduil snorted, muttering under his breath.

"Do not deny it." Elrond was serious again. "Do not dare to do that."

"We just got away from Mandos' doorstep, Elrond." Thranduil turned away from the other. "Can we not relax for a few days instead of going through the entire process of analyzing ourselves?"

"No." He suddenly found the Imladrian Lord inches from his face. "If I recall, we were almost mortal enemies, Thranduil, so why in Valar's sake did a simple imprisonment change us so much?"

"I don't know." Mirkwood's king stubbornly replied. "I don't care either."

"But I do." Elrond lashed out, gripping Thranduil's chin and seizing his lips. "I want to know where we stand now." His breath was hot on the other's lips. "Where do we stand?"

Thranduil shivered beneath him. "In front of a whole lot of problems…" His voice was weak, lacking much of its' normal splendor. "We are married, Elrond, both of us. Marriages are for eternity, unless the other is irretrievably gone. Neither of our spouses are: they are but one journey to the West away from us."

Elrond let himself fall back into the water, splashing the other. "I know, but I find I still need you, Thranduil."

"Regardless of that, we simply can't." The Sindar-king left the tub, drying himself off. "We can only settle for friendship, no more."

"Will it be enough?" Elrond too dried himself off, a profound sadness in his eyes.

"It must be." Thranduil slipped into the tunic slung over a chair. "Forgive me." He left the room swiftly, as if fearing what he would do if he stayed. As the door closed behind him, Elrond slumped against the wall, sinking to the ground in despair.

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Elrond had excused himself from dinner, saying he was still weak and wished to rest. Thranduil wished he had done the same; it almost physically hurt whenever he had to smile and laugh. In the end he left anyway, citing the same reasons Elrond had used to not even attend at all.

He locked the door to his sleeping-quarters – something he had never done before – and all but fell on his bed. He let loose a string of dwarfish curses, before catapulting his pillow against the far wall. The soft thud it made was far from enough to calm him.

"What have I done to deserve this?" He screamed. "What crime is worth this?" The sound of the candelabra crashing against the wall was far more calming. Or maybe it was the sound of breaking wood as the chair followed it.

Strong arms pulled him away from the painting of Oropher, wresting him into a tight embrace.