Thranduil was incensed that the Dwarves escaped, but as everyone blamed the drunken keeper of the keys, Linwe was off the hook. The king could not be angry for long, because as the Dwarves made their escape, a band of Orcs came and attacked them, killing guard Elves as they went by.
Tauriel and Legolas immediately went into action, along with other members of the guard. Linwe immediately went to help as well, but Thranduil ordered her to stay. "This situation is much too dangerous for you," he said.
"There are Orcs killing our people!" she said. "I should be down there, helping fight them off."
Thranduil shook his head. "I only told Legolas to fight as long as they are in our lands. They are here for the Dwarves, not for us. Let them go after the fools-they do not matter to me. I do not want them on my property!"
His face was impassive as always, but his eyes had darkened. He was angry and he was afraid. For the king to be afraid, Linwe knew that whatever was going on was serious. She was allowed to listen in as Legolas and Thranduil questioned the Orc they had captured (after watching Tauriel be ordered to leave), and even she became frightened at what the creature was saying. What was coming? What war? Thranduil was terrified as he decapitated the Orc before he could spew any more of his vile words.
He looked up at Linwe and told her to have the watch doubled at the borders, and she did as she was told. Normally, she would have gone to Tauriel to tell her, but the Elf was nowhere to be found. She met up with Legolas at the gate, and he told her that Tauriel had gone after the Orcs.
"I must follow. I know she will never care for me like I care for her, but I cannot imagine leaving her all alone to hunt thirty Orcs," he said.
Linwe held her hand over her heart, an Elven version of a hug. "I admire you, Legolas. Go. I will deal with your adar."
"Diola lle," he said, returning the gesture. He left then, going after the woman he loved.
Linwe went back inside, thinking about how Legolas was brave enough to go after what he wanted, even when Tauriel was so obviously taken with the Dwarf prince, Kili. How a little Hobbit had managed to command the heart of the Dwarf king. She however, could not bring herself to tell Thranduil how she felt out of fear of rejection. Why was she so weak in this aspect, yet so strong with all others. Perhaps it was because life had never prepared her for this. She had not been prepared for love, and when she found it, it hit her in the chest like an arrow.
Her father talked about honor. It was not honor and respect that was the greatest thing you could feel or give to another. No, those paled in comparison to love. Love was feeling another's pain as though it's your own, it is longing to take away all the fear and all the hurt they have and fill up those empty spaces with your own love.
The time between Legolas and Tauriel taking off and Thranduil deciding to lead his army into the Misty Mountains was filled with tension. Thranduil was on edge, angry and fearful. He had ordered two executions, something the hadn't done in two thousand years. He was angry with Tauriel for disobeying his orders, and furious with his son for running off without permission. And, above all, he was scared. Linwe did not know, but it was she he feared for.
His last dealings with a dragon had left him a widow and an orphan. He was afraid that this dragon would swoop in like Gostir and somehow take Legolas and Linwe from him. He had lost his father and his wife. He could not bear to lose his son and his...whatever Linwe was. He had not faded after Celeblasbes died because of Legolas. He began to live again because of Linwe. Now Legolas was more than grown, and did not seem to care as much for his ada as he once did. Thranduil suspected Legolas would be leaving soon, and all he would have left was Linwe. He did not want to lose her. His heart could not bear it.
While Thranduil had seen too much death, the Grim Reaper had not yet touched Linwe's life. Her mother had died when she was a baby, so it didn't affect her like it had her siblings. She was worried and had a very bad feeling. She did not have her father's foresight, but she had her mother's intuition. She knew they would be needed at Erebor. And she had a terrible feeling that death would be there to greet them when they arrived.
In the library, Linwe prepared a very risky spell. She knew she would need it, for someone. She worked hard, begging the Valar to not let her have to use it.
One morning not long after the prisoners escaped, the could see and smell the fire from Smaug attacking Esgaroth. Linwe was worried for Bard and his children, but even more so for poor little Bilbo. What if he or Thorin had been hurt? It would be like losing one's half of their heart.
"We must go," Thranduil said suddenly, staring out at the inferno. "Legolas is there, and we must stop that foul thing before it comes here, to the Woodland Realm. Linwe, tell my army to ready themselves. I will take my son home...and take back what is rightfully mine."
Linwe went to ready the army, but stopped and turned back to her king. "My lord, you must forgive my impertinence, but I will not allow you to leave me behind as if I were some fragile child. While I am a part of your kingdom, I will fight alongside you."
Thranduil had to again hide his amusement and his adoration. Linwe was certainly audacious. "Are you attempting to command me, princess?"
"I am not attempting any such thing, my king," she replied. "I am merely telling you I will be joining you. That's all." She went to leave, so as not to anger him any more than she already had, but he called her back. When she looked up at him, his hard eyes had warmed and he smiled.
"I will have armor laid out for you upon your return to your chambers, as long as you do not mind wearing the insignia of this kingdom," he said.
Linwe bowed, her face flushed. "I would be honored to wear it, Thranduil."
Setting up tents in the fields surrounding the Lonely Mountain, Thranduil called a meeting with the Istari Mithrandir and the only person Esgaroth could call a leader, Bard.
Linwe had a throne next to the king's, though she was not staying in his tent. She watched Bard greet Thranduil with more than a hint of the normal awe mortals showed the Elvenking. She smirked to herself, seeing that the Man was obviously smitten. It was quite cute.
What amused her even more was his expression when Thranduil introduced her to Bard, and he realised that the woman he had thought was a common Elf was really a royal, apparently the king's equal. His face paled three shades and his eyes were like saucers, but he kept silent.
Negotiations were at a heated peak when there was a weird noise and the tent's flap opened. Standing there was the little Hobbit, whom Gandalf greeted much more warmly than Thranduil did. Linwe was not sure how he knew Bilbo was the one who had helped the Company escape, but he did.
When Bilbo was finally admitted further into the tent, he saw Linwe and she was very pleased that he did not even make a peep about her. Their secret was safe, and would always be. He was simple, but not an imbecile.
Linwe smiled at him and said, "Master Baggins, what brings you here? Why are you not with Thorin?"
That was how Bilbo went into his explanations about the gold sickness and why he had brought them the Heart of the Mountain. Linwe and Gandalf, the slightly more intuitive of the four people in the tent, knew what it really represented: he had stolen Thorin's heart. Beneath Bilbo's coat peeked a shirt of mithril, the most expensive and rare metal the Dwarves had ever mined. The metal that was saved for Dwarvish proposals. For Bilbo to have brought them Thorin's heart behind his back meant that he was prepared to die for his love.
After making plans for the next day, Gandalf left to find Bilbo a bed, and Linwe was ordered to leave by Thranduil. She was tasked to find Legolas and Tauriel upon waking, while he would be going to Thorin alongside Bard for negotiations. Bard, he said, was needed to stay for further planning.
Linwe saw Bard pale at that, nervous. "Don't worry-he doesn't bite...more's the pity," she whispered to him with a smirk before leaving the tent.
Elven laws and customs were not set in stone, but they were never questioned. What Thranduil felt for Linwe was considered immoral, especially for a king. However, there were no laws set against those of the same sex coupling, because it was impossible for children to be begat by such relations. If children and marriage were not issues, they felt no need to regulate such things.
The term "bisexual" had not been coined at that point in time, but if it had, Thranduil, Bard, Fili and Kili would have fit the bill perfectly. Thranduil could easily get aroused by other males, though he had no intention of ever falling for one. His heart already belonged to Linwe, whether the Eldar liked it or not. His body, however, needed more immediate attention. Lord Bard seemed to be the perfect vessel, if the way he stared at Thranduil was any indication.
"Excuse me if I sound rude, my lord, but what else do we need to discuss?" Bard asked, sitting back down with another half glass of Dorwinion in his hand.
Thranduil could easily see that he was uncomfortable in his seat due to his arousal. "It is actually a different set of business altogether," he replied, sweeping his long robes back as he leaned back in his throne, giving Bard a good look at what he was sporting in his leggings. "I won't beat about the bush here. I have certain needs I cannot have met by the Elf I would prefer, due to certain Elven laws I don't quite care to tell you about. Unless I miss my guess, you would happily meet those needs for me."
Thranduil enjoyed watching Bard squirm in his seat. There was nothing sexier than a strong, confident man being brought to his knees-both literally and metaphorically-before him. This would certainly not be the first male he'd bedded since Celeblasbes had passed (usually out of frustration rather than arousal, if truth be told), but Bard would be the first mortal.
"My lord, I am not sure I understand what you want," Bard said nervously.
"Of course you do," Thranduil replied. "But in case you are not being purposely obtuse, let me lay it out there for you: I want you on your knees before me and then later on, on my bed, beneath me. Do you understand now, you silly little mortal?"
Bard swallowed hard. "You cannot mean that. Surely, you're just playing with my mind."
"I assure you, I am not. I have no time for games. What I do have is an erection that will not go away thanks to that infuriatingly alluring Elfling that just left, and a spectacularly handsome Man willing to take care of it for me." He stood up, walked over to where Bard sat, and pulled him up to meet his lips in a fast and heated kiss.
Bard was an inadequate replacement for Linwe, sure, but as of right then Thranduil would have taken Thorin if the Dwarf had been there!
"Are you sure? You are not drunk, are you?" Bard asked worriedly. The last thing he wanted was to have Thranduil sober up and kill him for his indiscretion.
"I cannot get drunk," he replied simply, his long fingers going to the ties on Bard's shirt. He undid the strings, loosening it and revealing his pale, lightly haired chest. Taking Bard's hands in his own, he led him to the fastenings on his robes and, while it took Bard a few tries, he finally got the robes off of Thranduil, revealing his perfect, pale skin. Thranduil saw the hungry look in Bard's eyes and he coaxed him into their first kiss.
Bard's lips were full but a little weatherbeaten. His goatee scratched against the hairless Elven face but it was a rather pleasant sensation. Thranduil thrust his tongue into the new king's mouth and ran his hands in Bard's curls, pretending they were Linwe's black silk locks.
He let go of Bard's hair and started to unlace his leggings, letting his straining cock free. Bard felt its hard heat against his stomach and he moved away, letting Thranduil slip the leggings down to his ankles. He stepped out of them and out of his boots swiftly, letting Bard take in his magnificence. Caressing Bard's cheek he said, "On your knees, my king."
Bard did as he was told, slowly moving closer to the Elf's impressive length, which was pulsing and as hard as marble. His heart was pounding and, dare he admit it, his mouth was watering as he reached and gave Thranduil a tentative lick. The Elf thrust his hips and Bard took the tip into his mouth, slowly started to suck. He heard Thranduil moan and his own cock twitched in response. He got bolder, and started to bob his head up and down the length, tasting the sweet saltiness of Thranduil's flesh.
The Elf grabbed his long dark hair to hold his head still as he started to fuck his mouth, slowly at first but quickly speeding up, testing the limits of his gag reflex. Elves can last for hours, sometimes a day, but mortals couldn't, so Thranduil sped up, and in moments Bard felt hot, salty cum spilling down his throat. He swallowed what he could, though a dribble came down his chin.
Thranduil pulled him up and licked his own cum from the Man's face. He pressed himself against Bard and Bard could feel how hard he still was. There wasn't a bed in the tent, but there was a nice sofa for reclining, and Thranduil turned Bard around and shoved him face-first onto the soft fabric. Bard had never been treated like this and he found that the Elf's roughness was arousing him even more.
He felt the cold tip of a finger pressing against his entrance and it slipped in with minimal resistance. It was followed by a second finger and, by the time Thranduil added a third. Bard was writhing in pleasure-pain, begging him to fuck him properly.
"Such foul language for a king," Thranduil purred in his ear as he pulled his fingers out. A moment later, Bard felt something much larger than a finger pressing against his barely stretched entrance. "Tell me again what you want, Lord Bard."
Bard gasped as Thranduil began to rub the tip teasingly against his hole. "I want you inside of me, my lord. Make me scream your name. Fuck me."
Thranduil chuckled. "As you wish." Without any further warning, the whole of his length was thrust into Bard's hole, burning and rubbing and making him feel a million things at once. Thranduil started slowly and then built up momentum, and all Bard knew was that this felt fucking amazing as he moaned and begged for more.
Thranduil gripped Bard's lean hips and angled him upwards, allowing the Elf's long cock to hit his prostate dead on. Bard cried out, and pushed his ass back to feel it even more. Thranduil continued his hammering so hard, Bard was sure he'd be in pain riding his horse the next day.
He gripped his own throbbing cock in his hand and it only took a few pumps for him to cum in great, long spurts. As his muscles clenched around Thranduil, Thranduil came inside of him, spilling his hot seed deep inside and Bard moaned, too weak to do much else.
Thranduil pulled out of him and gave him a look of amusement mixed with admiration. "One of my guards will show you out in case there are any Orcs about. Goodnight, Dragonslayer."
After Bard left, Thranduil sat in his throne, hating himself for wishing to have been with Linwe instead of a stand-in.
The next day was when Bilbo was nearly killed by Thorin, Thorin refused to deal with Bard and Thranduil and the Battle of the Five Armies was waged and finished in a bloody mess.
Linwe was not exempt from battle, as the enemy was everywhere. Her sword, which had never seen battle, was now soaked in blood, as was her armor. Thankfully, unlike much of Mirkwood's army, she was mostly unharmed. She knew her task was to find Legolas, but she could not help herself: she was looking for Thranduil. She was terrified that he might be hurt. Never in her life had she imagined such carnage and depravity was possible. As she looked through the Elven corpses, she saw him, swinging his sword and slaying all in his path. As she was in a secluded doorway, she was able to take one previous moment to appreciate his beauty in battle.
His hair shone, his sword bit flesh and drew blood. He was determined, and as graceful a fighter as he was a king. If it was possible she loved him even more for his prowess in battle.
As she was admiring him, she saw an Orc coming from an odd angle, out of the king's line of sight. Terrified that he would be killed, she rushed forward, swinging her blade in a wide arc and lopping off the ugly head of the would-be killer.
The movement startled Thranduil, but he calmed when he saw that it was Linwe who had just possibly saved his life. His smile was fleeting, but beautiful. "My Lady. You have my gratitude."
Linwe shook her head, blushing. "You owe me no gratitude, my lord. I could not...would not let it hurt you. I vowed when I joined your army to protect you as well as I could." She gave a small bow.
He tucked his hand beneath her chin and lifted her head up. "Remember, you are my equal. You need never bow to me unless it is my wish."
She nodded, too afraid of what she might say to speak. Her heart was racing and ready to overflow with her emotions. She needed to extricate herself from the situation as fast as possible. "I remember. I must take my leave. I think I saw Legolas. I will tell him to come to you."
She walked away and that was when she did finally complete her mission. "Legolas! Your father is insistent he see you. He is worried, mellon-nin."
Legolas scoffed. "Like he ever cared about me. All he cares about is my being a suitable heir to the kingdom!"
"That's not true!" Linwe cried. "He might run a tight ship, but that is because he cares about his subjects-yourself included."
"And what about Tauriel?" he asked angrily. "He banished her!"
"I cannot speak for his feelings regarding her. But I can tell you he loves you. You are his son. Do not forsake him, Legolas," Linwe warned.
"Linwe, I do like you. You are brave and smart. Do not let him fool you. There is nothing behind that cold exterior except for more ice and marble," the prince snapped before walking away.
Linwe walked away, wondering what was going to happen. The small vision she had haunted her, reminding her she was still needed...somewhere. It was not until after Legolas had left and the battle had been won that she saw the gathering of mourners on Ravenhill. The Line of Durin had fallen.
Tauriel was weeping, holding onto Sigird, Bard's oldest daughter. Bilbo was at the side of Thorin's corpse, still holding his hand. He face was impassive and tearstained. She saw blood on his coat and realised it was Thorin's. All of the company was weeping as well, mourning the loss of their king and heirs.
Thranduil was also watching with a grim look on his face. "So terrible," he said to Linwe. "I warned him, just like I warned his grandfather. Why do they insist on being so stubborn?"
"It is their nature," Linwe replied, her face set and determined. "This is not right. No one deserves to suffer so long and then never get to claim his rightful place in the world." She stepped forward, and Thranduil called her back. She did not listen, however, knowing that the spells she had prepared were needed now.
"What are you doing?" Mithrandir asked, his face ashen. "Linwe, if you do what I think you will, you-"
"I know," she cut him off. "I will lose three hundred years of life. A small price to pay, I assure you. Now out of my way." She gently shoved him aside and went to sit next to Bilbo, who looked up in surprise. "Stand back, Master Baggins," she said, her tone brooking no disobedience. Bilbo moved aside and Linwe laid her hands over Thorin's wounds. The killing blow had been a sword straight through the abdomen, a slow and painful way to die.
Everyone watching saw her hold her bare hands to the bloody flesh. They saw them glow white, the spirit of starlight within her coming free. Her eyes also glowed white, an unusual occurrence. Her voice, sweet and clear, said one spell, a spell that was rarely used for its ill effects: each time an Elf used it, they lost a century of life: "Entula tuulo' i'ba". Resurrection.
She repeated the spell two more times, on Fili and Kili. When she was done, she backed away, her body feeling quite weak. Arms wrapped around her and she saw Thranduil was holding her to his chest.
"Why did you do that?" he asked, sounding angry.
"I had a vision," she replied. "And I do not like to see people mourn their loved ones prematurely."
His breath was on her ear, his hands enclosing her waist. It was a pleasant place to be, despite her current weakness. "I am very proud to know you, Linwe Helyanwe. Cormlle naa tanya tel'raa, arwenamin."
Oin went up to the bodies, and he exclaimed with tears in his eyes, "They are alive! Thorin, Fili and Kili are alive!"