Is Thorin trapped by Maelon? Or will he be brave enough to risk his relationship with Thranduil and do the right thing? And, if Thranduil knows the truth, how will he respond?

Chp III

Truth Will Out

Thorin was standing on the balcony when Thranduil got back early that evening. "Are you coming down to the dining hall?" the elf asked.

"No," said the dwarf quietly, turning around to face him. "I have something to tell you instead." And Thranduil looked into his eyes and his heart grew cold.

Thorin knew what he must do. He had known from that first moment that Maelon had touched him in the pool but had not been brave enough. His priority had been to keep Thranduil but now he recognised the selfishness of that decision. How could he kiss the elf and make love to him when he felt so contaminated by Maelon? He had given in to blackmail and he was dirty; no water could wash him clean. And so the best thing to do was to confess and then leave for Erebor. He would be brutal and to the point so that Thranduil would find it easy to give him up.

"I have decided," he said in a toneless voice, "that it is only fair to tell you that Maelon has been fucking me for the past few days." Then he waited for the recriminations and the shouting to start. But Thranduil just stood there with a shocked expression on his face. In the end, Thorin could bear his stare no longer and with his head bowed in shame he started to brush past the king so that he could make preparations to go that very night.

Thranduil's arm shot out and, for a moment, Thorin thought that he would strike him and he flinched, ready to receive the blow. But, instead, his lover pulled him into his arms and held him tightly to his breast. And then he wept. "Will you ever forgive me?" he said.

Thorin raised confused eyes to Thranduil's tortured face. "Forgive you?" he murmured.

The elf covered his face in kisses and held him tighter still. "Twice I have failed to protect you," he cried. "First against Ethril whom I even thrust in your way; and now against Maelon. I gave you only a casual warning of his corruption, forgetting your innocence in the ways of elves who have lived for thousands of years and have grown subtle in the arts of seduction. I knew your paths had crossed and yet did nothing to ensure your safety. And now he has abused you and I am all to blame." His anguish was startling but Thorin pulled away from him.

"I am not a child," he said. "I am old enough to make my own mistakes and bear the responsibility for them."

Thranduil raised a hand to his face and softly touched him. "But even you, my brave king, would find it almost impossible to resist the arts of one with so black a heart. I have known for centuries about Maelon and his ways but failed to share that knowledge with you."

Thorin began to shake, overwhelmed by what had happened to him in the last few days and Thranduil gently led him to the bed where he took him in his arms once more. "Now, tell me," he said, "from the beginning." And Thorin told him everything, not withholding a single, vile detail. And when Thranduil heard of the glamourie and the blackmail that Maelon had used, he burned white hot in silent rage.

And he rose from the bed and fetched Thorin a sleeping draught. "Take this," he commanded, "and I shall hold you in my arms until you sleep. And everything will be well come the morning." And the exhausted dwarf took the draught and fell asleep in Thranduil's arms.

Then Thranduil slid quietly from the bed and pulled the coverlet over him. He went to the armoire in the corner and drew out his sword and then he left the room, shutting the door noiselessly behind him.

When Maelon found the elven king on his doorstep with his sword in hand, he didn't seem particularly surprised. "Ah," he said. "I thought that you would come for me in the end. Perhaps I even wished it." And they silently cleared a large space in the centre of the room, flung aside their surcoats and kicked off their boots; then Maelon fetched his sword and the duel began.

They were very well matched. Maelon was the best swordsman at Thranduil's court but its king was thought by many to be the best in all of Middle-earth. The action favoured first one and then the other until Maelon tried to seize the advantage by taunting the king.

"Does Thorin know we are fighting over him?" he asked. And, when Thranduil didn't reply, he continued: "Mind you, he's worth fighting for: possibly the best fuck I've ever had." The elven king attacked him with renewed fury and it was a few minutes before Maelon gained some control. "Yes," he panted. "Definitely the best fuck – at least since I had you." And his words unearthed Thranduil's deepest, darkest memories which he thought were long buried, memories from many years past when he had been the young prince of Mirkwood and his father, Oropher, had been king. Maelon had been rotten, even then.

The elf lord's words pushed him to greater efforts still and a cold desire for revenge. Suddenly, Maelon's weapon was spinning from his hand, he was flat on his back and Thranduil's sword was at his throat. The elf threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender and waited for the sword to bite. But Thranduil slowly trailed the blade down his body until the sharp tip rested on Maelon's genitals. "With the slightest twist of my wrist," Thranduil murmured in icy tones, "I could unman you here and thus bring satisfaction to many of us who have been corrupted by your wiles."

Maelon's eyes widened: whatever he was, he was not a coward and he had been prepared to meet his death; but this would be worse than death and he would live for all eternity in shame.

Thranduil paused for a long moment then raised his sword. "I banish you from Mirkwood," he said. "You will be gone by tomorrow morning." And he knew that, for an elf to be cast out from his people was the hardest doom of all. The last he saw of Maelon was the look of horror on his face.

.o00o.

Thorin awoke the next morning to find Thranduil lying by his side. "He is gone," the elf immediately reassured him. "Into exile. We shall never see him again."

And then Thorin saw some tell-tale marks upon his lover's body. "You have fought him," he said accusingly. "For my sake. You risked your life for me and I'm just not worth it."

"I took revenge both for you and for all Maelon's other victims – and for myself whom he seduced two thousand years ago."

Thorin's face contorted. "If I had known that," he said harshly, "I would have killed him myself."

Thranduil sighed. "It's all over now. Those of us who should have known better tolerated him for too long. We were ashamed of what he had done to us, you see, and just wanted to ignore it."

"There is nothing for you to be ashamed of," Thorin said angrily. "He cannot defile someone as beautiful as you."

"Nor has he defiled you," was the gentle response. "You have to believe that, Thorin." And he kissed him long and tenderly.

Thorin touched his lover's face. "Yes, deep down, I know that to be true. But," he whispered, "it is hard convincing myself of this truth."

"I'll take a hundred years convincing you, if you wish," replied the elf quietly. And he pulled Thorin towards him. Then he ran a hand through the black mane of hair. "I must have hurt you when we made love," he said.

"You could never hurt me," Thorin replied and he bent forward to kiss the scratches and bruises on Thranduil's chest. "I should have trusted you. I should have told you but I thought you would leave me."

The elven king took Thorin's chin firmly in his hand and lifted it so that they gazed into each other's eyes. "I shall never leave you," he said. "Don't you understand yet? Have I not already told you that elves love only once and you are the One. You are my beloved and it Iies with me to take away your pain."

"No," replied Thorin slowly, as a realisation of the extent of Maelon's evil came to him. "That is my task. How long have you suffered? How long have you carried the burden of Maelon's abuse, seeing him every day, perhaps, and yet pretending that nothing had happened? Speaking civilly to him? Disguising from others what had passed between the two of you? From your father? From your wife? From me? It should have destroyed you but it has not. That gives me strength and I shall use that strength to succour and comfort you." And Thorin wrapped his arms about him, holding him against his breast and stroking his silken hair. "You are safe now, with me," he said, "as I with you. No-one will ever harm us again." And, resting in each other's arms, they slept a deep and golden sleep until the morning came.

.o00o.

Well, let's chase these dark clouds away with my final story in this series: The Kings and the Wedding. Yes, at last, Thorin and Thranduil, Young Thorin and Brangwyn are planning their double wedding. But, there are so many hurdles for them all to get over that the big question is, will they actually make it to the altar?

Look out for story number 12: I hope you enjoy this much more pleasurable trip.