The sexually corrupt elf-lord, Maelon, is on Thorin's doorstep, ready to draw the dwarf king even further into a web of lies and deceit. He is an arch-manipulator but can he control Thorin or will the inexperienced Thorin be able to make a stand against him?

Chp II

Blackmail

Thorin was so shocked by the sudden appearance of Maelon on his doorstep that he silently let him in. The elf lord poured himself a glass of wine and then looked at the dwarf who was standing there with his features working, as if unsure what to say first.

Maelon's eyes slowly wandered over Thorin in such a way that the king felt his flesh crawl. "Now, who would have thought," the elf lord drawled, "that I would be so desperate to fuck a dwarf? But I am. And now that I have a taste for it, I am more than keen to do it again."

"It was you – yesterday," snarled the dwarf. "Wasn't it?"

"But, my dear, how did you guess?" was the sneering response. "You're more intelligent than I thought which means, sadly, I cannot use those means a second time."

"You can employ no means," said an incandescent Thorin, "that would persuade me to let you lay a single finger on me ever again."

Maelon dangled his glass thoughtfully between finger and thumb. "So, you think not, do you? I shall have to see what I can come up with." And he gave Thorin an amused look as if he were a child.

Suddenly, remembering what Thranduil had said about the elf's corrupt heart, Thorin took a step away from him across the room.

Maelon rolled his eyes. "Such sweet naivety is truly refreshing – and stimulating – to see," he murmured. "I doubt if I shall jump on you and force you, however tempting the prospect. So crude, you know. So you needn't back away." Then he gave Thorin a considering glance. "How old are you?" he asked curiously. "You cannot have reached your 200th year yet. I believe I have forgotten what it is to be so young and innocent with a mind so tender and a body so pliant."

He sat down, lounging back in a chair, still twirling his glass but presenting less of a threat so that Thorin relaxed a little. "What is it you want?" he asked angrily.

"Why," said Maelon, "how remiss of me. I thought I had made myself clear. I want you, of course. It wasn't until that moment in the pool that I realised what it is about you that has Thranduil so obsessed." His eyes raked the dwarf from head to foot. "Not an elven beauty, of course, but definitely something that appeals to my baser instincts: those heavy muscles, all that hair, that – particularly magnificent asset. And your nipple ring is especially arousing – I doubt if I could ever persuade an elven lover to mutilate himself in such a way, not even for my pleasure. No wonder our beloved king can scarcely keep his hands off you."

"Get out," said Thorin between gritted teeth, "before I kill you."

"Oh, I doubt that you could manage that," smiled the elf. "You have seen my skills. And I was holding back, you know. I didn't want to humiliate you entirely."

"You have humiliated me entirely," snarled Thorin, wondering how much longer he could keep his hands from Maelon's throat. "Now go." And he walked towards the door.

"But, you have yet to hear my proposal," said the elf lord. And his voice was so silken soft and threatening that Thorin shivered and his fingers halted before they reached the door handle.

"You see, my dear," murmured Maelon to Thorin's back, "I have been wondering what Thranduil's reaction would be if I were to tell him of our little trysts."

"There have been no trysts," exclaimed Thorin.

"I can imagine that he would be very interested in all the details: how you came to me naked in the pool, how much you enjoyed my soapy fingers, how hard and massive was your erection and how vigorously you spilled yourself into the water. Ahh," he sighed lasciviously, "I can still hear the cry that escaped your lips at that moment and the pleasure you took as you felt me spurt my own seed upon your buttocks."

Thorin turned towards him, his eyes wide. "It wasn't like that," he cried.

"Wasn't it?" was the leering reply. "Well, I also remember how yesterday, when you discovered that Thranduil would be held up in a meeting all day – after that message you received – you let me know that you were available. We fucked for hours, of course. You must have been really sore and not especially interested in Thranduil when he finally turned up. I expect he'll remember that and doubtless wondered why. Well, now I shall be able to enlighten him."

Thorin stood listening to him, appalled. "Why would you do this?" he finally asked.

Maelon set down his glass and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose I've never liked our king that much. His arrogance sets my teeth on edge. And blackmail is also such a useful bargaining tool."

"Blackmail?" whispered Thorin.

"But, of course," said Maelon, looking up in surprise. "Surely you've realised that this is what it's all about?" And, when Thorin could only stare, he continued: "If you choose to do so, you can barter your body for my silence."

The pause was so long that the elf lord wondered if Thorin had heard. But, finally, the dwarf whispered, "What do you want from me? What are your terms?"

"I want as much as I can get," said Maelon coldly. "This means that, when you visit Mirkwood every three weeks, I shall expect some kind of intimacy every day, however brief, and much longer sessions when Thranduil is tied up in one of his meetings, as we both know he often is."

"I need to think about this," said Thorin quietly.

"You have three hours," replied the elf. "Come to my room with your answer this afternoon or I shall reveal to Thranduil what has been going on behind his back. And, then, of course, you will lose him." And he gave a triumphant grin as if he knew that he held all the cards.

Thorin held open the door with a cornered expression on his face.

Maelon paused a moment before him, then slid a hand between his legs and kissed him hotly on the lips. Thorin wrenched himself away. "I'm not yours yet," he hissed.

"Not yet, but soon, I believe." And with those words, the elf made his exit from the room leaving a sickened and trembling Thorin behind him.

.o00o.

Thranduil returned briefly for lunch and was concerned enough about Thorin's appearance to say that he would call a physician if he were no better the following day. When he was gone, Thorin sat down once more to consider his options. If he wanted to keep the only one he had ever loved, then he felt he had no choice. Perhaps Maelon would soon tire of him and then he could put it all behind him and get on with his life.

Maelon grinned when he opened the door and he bowed Thorin inside. "On condition that you say nothing to Thranduil," the king muttered, "then I am willing to succumb to your wishes. But, if you so much as whisper anything of the matter to him or anyone else, then I can promise you now that I shall kill you." And when Maelon looked into his eyes, he knew that Thorin spoke the truth.

The elf lord drew him into his arms and kissed him. "I shall never tire of you," he murmured as if he knew what Thorin had been thinking. "The more I have you, the more I shall want you. My desires will never be satisfied." Then he stood back and gazed at him possessively. "Now," he said coldly. "Just take your clothes off and get into my bed."

.o00o.

Two hours later, Thorin returned to Thranduil's apartments. His face was grey and drawn and he made straight for the bath where he sat for a long time, trying to scrub himself clean. But, it occurred to him at one point that he would never feel clean enough for Thranduil ever again. Eventually, he heaved himself painfully out of the water and dressed himself in a loose robe. Maelon was very rough and he wasn't quite sure for how long he could come up with excuses to avoid Thranduil's penetration of his sore body. For the moment, his supposed illness would have to do.

The elven king fussed over him so much after he returned home that Thorin felt very guilty. He made him go to bed and then went downstairs to the dining hall where he selected delicacies to tempt his lover's appetite with his own hand. Then he held him in his arms, stroking and kissing him, whilst he urged him to sleep. "Tomorrow, I shall call the physician," he warned sternly.

No, Thorin couldn't let him do that. If the physician examined him, he might guess that some kind of abuse was taking place. He must attempt to pull himself together and put on a more cheerful face for the next morning. And so, when the sun came up, he woke Thranduil with a kiss. "I'm feeling a lot better today," he reassured him and the elf was satisfied.

Much to Thorin's relief, Thranduil had no meetings that day and he hoped that this would keep him safe from Maelon's sexual demands. Only a few more days, and they would be returning to Erebor. But, that afternoon, the elven king decided that he would go riding with Legolas and, since Maelon had his spies in the stables, he arrived at Thranduil's apartments the moment the king had departed.

Thorin made a stand. "I'm too sore," he said.

But Maelon just shrugged. "On your knees then," he said pointing to the floor in front of him. "The faster you do it, the sooner I'll be gone." And he undid his breeches and grabbed Thorin by his hair.

.o00o.

Thorin is locked in a horrific cycle of blackmail and abuse. Is he strong enough to tell Thranduil the truth and face the consequences? Third and final chapter: Truth Will Out.