Thorin had been working all day. Between training, political lessons, rhetoric, ancient khuzdul, math, and common he had no time to steal away for his usual bout of play with his brother. They were still young straplings but duty was duty, and as Thorin was the first born male and Dis was the only daughter they were constantly busy leaving Frerin alone to his own devices. He usually was reading, seated at a windowsill. Sometimes he would be found in the kitchens offering extra help or even down in the training ground helping to sharpen axes or swords. He was a sweet thing, gentle and kind.
It was on a particularly sunny day that Thorin found Frerin sitting in his usual windowsill, the stain glass filtering over him making his golden hair seem almost copper. Frerin's curly hair was bothering him, he had the look of a fresh bath and always the dwarf's hair would curl into ringlets if left to their own devices. He groaned for the upteenth time and blew up around his nose in an attempt to get the lock of hair out of his face.
Thorin felt his heart flutter a little. He watched Frerin pull his bare feet up under him so he could hold his book in his lap and try to tame the wild mane of his hair. Something about him, about his brother made him want to stay with him, beside him, forever. He didn't know why. He just... did.
He stepped up, pulling out his travel comb from his pocket. "Mayb I?" His voice rumbled gaining his brother's attention.
Frerin groaned, "Yes, please. I swear I would have chopped this all off if I wasn't a dwarf!"
"Don't say that." Thorin smiled as he sat down, his brother moving to present his back to Thorin. He started at the bottom of the long locks and worked his way up. "Where are your beads?"
"You know I can't keep them in when this cursed nest is drying." Frerin moved a little, the sound of a page flipping showing that he went back to reading.
"I heard that hobbits have curly hair. Maybe you were a hobbit in your past life."
The blond pushed back, his head dropping against Thorin's shoulder as he did. "Don't even joke about that. Hobbits are... are... well they are terrible warriors and rather spread rumors than anything else."
"I heard the Took family was good with other races."
"Maybe being reborn as a Took wouldn't be so bad, but I rather be a dwarf. We're the best race." He smiled. He hesitated for a moment, then his lips were on Thorin's cheek.
Thorin stiffened, but he closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss. It felt so nice, so wonderful and relaxing. Something about the kiss eased something inside of him that he did not know was tightly wound. He wrapped his arms around Frerin instinctively, pulling him fully back and onto his lap.
Frerin twisted in his arms, placing the book down and hugging Thorin close.
"Thank you."
"For what?" the raven haired prince asked.
"For not being disgusted with me, for not pushing me away."
Thorin buried his face into Frerin's half combed hair and took in a deep breath. He always smelled of freshly tilled earth and fresh grass. Such natural smell, nothing like the iron tange and musk that people had said that Thorin had. He ran a hand through Frerin's hair, his fingers getting tangled in the unbrushed knots.
"Do not speak of rebirth... I would not have you taken from me."
That night Frerin could not sleep. He slipped into Thorin's bed, the book he had earlier left abandoned on his own. He had been crying.
"Thorin?" Frerin nudged his brother.
"What? What is it?" Thorin moved in the sheets, having had to roll over.
Frerin shook his head while hugging himself. He gave a small sniffle. Thorin pulled him into his bed, holding him close. He placed gentle kisses on his brother's face earning a slightly relaxed Frerin.
"What happened?"
"I... I'm just being stupid..." He said.
Thorin was quiet. He knew eventually his brother would tell him what was bothering him. But he never did. He stayed quiet, pushing his face against Thorin's pillow. A fresh sob ripped through him and it broke Thorin's heart.
"Shh, shh," Thorin rolled Frerin onto his back. Thorin moved on top of Frerin, blue eyes meeting brown. "Frerin." He caressed his brother's cheek. "Whatever has upset you, let me take it away."
Frerin was then kissing him, their lips parting in favor for clumsy tongues and desperation. Thorin wanted to take this pain away but whatever was plaguing Frerin drove him into his own kind of need. It was as if he realized a terrible secret and he needed to forget.
Their hands fumbled pulling off nightshirts and small clothes. They held onto each other, kissing every bit of flesh they could reach as their hands explored. Hips rutted, erections rubbed with delicious friction never felt before in such a way. They were both so young, hormones had barely taken hold of them for only a few years. They covered each other's mouths when they climaxed, spilling their seed upon each other.
Afterwards Thorin stroked Frerin's hair, his fingers ran over a large ear. When it elicited a purr he did it again. The shell of Frerin's ear slipped between fingers, earning the most amazing moan Thorin had ever heard in his whole life. He did it again out of curiosity, and again Frerin made that lovely, lovely, sound.
"S-stop." Frerin's mouth fell open, panting harder with each stroke.
If just touching could do that then... Thorin leaned over and ran his tongue across the soft skin behind Frerin's earlobe. His brother bucked against him with a helpless whine. Thorin smirked. Oh he was going to have fun with that, but for the time being he would relent to his brother's request. Instead he placed kisses down his jaw to his lips where they shared another clumsy kiss.
They slept well that night, holding onto each other.
It was some time after that when Thorin found Frerin once more down in the training halls. Frerin came more often, even though they did not get much time to talk, and their nights were spent together, just being around each other relaxed Thorin greatly. Yet, there was one thing that bothered him. Frerin never told him why he had been crying that night. When asked he still would not say. So, Thorin, at a loss, let it be.
As time passed Frerin became interested in the bow. It was the only weapon he could not grievously harm himself with. Thorin had to be taken to the healer twice when Frerin got a hold of sword and axe. He was still proud of himself for not lopping off a limb. Thus the bow was bestowed upon him. He managed to snap the string in his face on the first try which made him depressed until Thorin told him while petting his head, "You finding a way to hurt yourself with every weapon shows you have talent."
"I'm a terrible dwarf." Frerin whined.
"You're a strange dwarf, which makes you perfect." Thorin smiled.
"I'm trying to be depressed. You're not helping."
"My apologies."
Frerin adjusted himself until his head was on Thorin's lap. He heaved a sigh, "I know you're trying to cheer me up but I just... I know I'm not a good dwarf."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because the others talk about me. I hear them, some of them call me an elf."
Thorin bristled. "You are no elf. Do not listen to them."
"I don't want to be an elf."
"No one in their right mind wants to be an elf."
"Legolas still being an ass to you huh?"
Thorin looked away. "We're done talking about elves."
Frerin fell silent. That night he didn't go to Thorin's room. Nor the next, or the next. He spent more time in the training halls, showing how very adept he was to the weapon. When Thorin would come into the room they would share a few pleasantries and Frerin would soon leave. It bothered the older brother. Actually, it tormented him. The denied contact of his brother, of his lover, it was the only thing keeping him from wanting to leap across the tables at meetings and attacking. Especially when Thranduil paid homage to Thror and brought his brat, Legolas with him. Legolas tormented him with bragging about how much of a better warrior he was than Thorin. He hounded him with questions about how dwaves could ever be so silly/stupid for believing in Mahal of all gods. Then there were the wonderful teases of how he heard that Frerin was gifted in the bow and how the dwarf being so fair was just a misplaced elf. Oh, that got Thorin thrown out of the meeting real quick as well as Legolas. They were supposed to be future allies and they were not off to a good start. This behavior forced the pair to be ordered to spend time together. Most days did not end well.
It was this time spent away from Frerin that had soured the other's mood. He grew jealous and it was hard to bottle it up. He took precautions in removing himself from Thorin so he was not tempted to harm him or call him a cheating bastard. He spent more time in the training halls so that he could concentrate on something that would not allow his mind to wonder, much like reading granted him. Eventually he spent most of his time outside. One of the guards took him under his wing and started to teach him how to hunt. When he got his first turkey he was so excited and presented it as dinner for his teacher. Balin was a great man, just barely climbing the ranks.
"So what's gotten you in a knot, laddy?" Balin asked one day while they were walking outside the gates of Erebor.
Frerin ran his hand through his messy hair. He managed to knock his clip out. He bent over and grabbed it. His fingers traced over the engraved metal. It was last years birthday present from Thorin, made by his own hands. He sighed. "I'm being a fool is all... I know Thorin doesn't like that elf boy but..."
"I know where you're coming from." Balin smiled with support. "The first time I got someone taking my attention away from my brother Dwalin... well, Dwalin broke his leg so he would have to stay away from me. He didn't know it was the royal recruiter, quite the feat for such a small boy."
The blond let out a laugh. He had been wondering why the main guard recruiter was restricted to his office and never left behind his desk. To have his leg broken by a dwarfling, oh that poor man.
"I am glad I can say I am not that bad... though sometimes it's hard to restrain myself."
"I'm actually quite impressed by your willpower. The jealousy of the Line of Durin is infamous."
Frerin gave a half shrug, his gaze back to the clasp. "I'm not much of a Durin."
"You hold a hidden meaning under that."
The prince swallowed a thick knot in his throat. He looked back at the great gates of Erebor. "Don't tell Thorin..."
"Don't tell him what?"
Frerin shook his head and continued to walk. "You are a good friend Balin. I want you to watch over him after... if, if something may happen."
"Frerin, you're not making any sense."
"You know what we should look for? Apples. Apples should be ripening now. I think Dis would like one." Frerin strode off with long strides of his legs forcing Balin to shuffle after him. The subject dropped.
After Frerin had delivered an apple to Dis he found himself with nothing to do. Despite all the dwarves in Erebor he felt himself alone. The familiar voice of his brother floated down the hall accompanied by that blasted elf. He looked over to the pair that turned the corner, actually getting along as to the point they were not visibly sickened being within a ten foot radius of one another.
"I will admit you dwarves do know a little something about how to cook meat. Red meat is a difficult thing to cook right." Legolas looked as if he was saying -sorry I have no change- to a beggar on the street.
Thorin only grunted in reply, which was getting somewhere considering he would not even make a noise if someone he didn't like was around. Which meant they were getting along with each other. It set a fire in Frerin's belly that felt as hot as a forge.
Thorin's blue eyes caught Frerin's glare. The young prince snorted angrily storming off to his room. He slammed the door.
Fuck Thorin! Fuck that stupid elf! Fuck everything!
Frerin paced around in his room. He grabbed his old book and threw it across the room, cursing it in khuzdul. He hated it! If it wasn't for that stupid book then he never would have ended up in Thorin's room. He never would have felt those kisses, the tender touches. Hear the sweet nothings as his ear was being nibbled, have hands caressing him.
He stomped over to the window and looked out to the dying day. Dusk was usually very beautiful to him, but at the moment he wanted to do nothing more than to punch that pretty sunset. Punch anything really, maybe even a kitten.
The door opened and closed with a soft click. "Frerin..."
He scowled, turning around to find Thorin. "What do you want? I'm tired."
"What did I do wrong?"
The blond looked stubbornly to the side. "I'm tired Thorin. No doubt you would like to go to bed as well."
Thorin crossed the room quickly. "Why do you keep avoiding me? What did I do wrong?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Well you are, so speak!"
"Speak about it to your fucking elf!"
"What? You think I wish to be with that elf? He infuriates me! Thror is the one that wishes me to be with him! It is not my choice, you must believe that."
"Get out of my room." Frerin moved away when Thorin reached for him. "I want to be alone."
Something inside Thorin snapped, it was as if he was falling, staggering down an endless void when Frerin shied away from him. He moved forward. He grabbed Frerin and pinned him against the wall. His voice was broken as he slowly released the fistful of hair he did not know he had grabbed. "Don't shy away from me. Deny me food and water, deny me breath but do not deny me you." He placed a kiss on Frerin's lips as an apology for his rough handling. "The elf means nothing to me. I can only have you in my heart, Frerin. You must believe that."
Frerin's arms wrapped around Thorin's shoulders. He pulled him close as their lips met once more. He slipped his tongue against Thorin's deepening the kiss with a panicked passion. He needed to be reassured. He needed to know that he was still wanted by his brother, that he still meant more than Thorin's duties and that pretty elf that he was forced to spend time with.
He pulled at Thorin's robes forcing him to shed the layers. His brother pulled him from the wall and they quickly shucked their clothing off. Soon as the last article was tossed Thorin pushed him onto the bed. A hot tongue went over his nipple, teasing it with an open mouthed kiss. Delicious fingers trailed down his sides leaving behind light scratches down to his thighs. Caressing hands parted his legs, palms and fingers massaging the smooth skin there. All the while Thorin's mouth was licking and sucking over Frerin's chest purposely teasing him.
Thorin wanted to take his brother so badly. He wanted to shove his cock so deep into that body that the younger could not sit for a week. But more so, he wanted to taste, to touch, to feel that body that had been denied to him for what felt like an eternity. He bit down on Frerin's collarbone, giving a hard suck leaving behind a lovely purple and red blossom. He worked his mouth over to the shallow of his neck, lapping slowly. The moan he got was so wonderful. Every sound he got out of Frerin was like water to a man dying of thirst. He greedily drank every sound up and moved his hands and mouth to gain more.
Soon Frerin's neck and shoulders were peppered with small bruises and bites. His chest was heaving with deep pants as he tried his best to touch and kiss Thorin back. When his hands went to their erections his wrists were grabbed and pinned above his head.
He looked to Thorin's stunning eyes. "Please," he begged, spreading his legs wider in invitation for Thorin to touch him. "Mahal, please."
Thorin cursed. He got up off of his brother and went into a wild search around the room. He had yet to take the boy in such a way, he could not wait any longer, especially after that pleading. He finally found some oil he could use. When he got back to his brother he bowed his head and groaned at the beautiful sight before him. Spread and wanting. Fingers of one hand stretched out to him, the other gently stroking a weeping cock.
"Hold this." He placed the small pot of oil into the outstretched hand as he slipped back between his brother's legs. He took off the top and dipped his fingers in. He looked at Frerin's face as he slipped his fingers down the long vein of the underside of that throbbing cock, over his ball sack and lower still. He took his time, watching each expression, hearing each lovely noise that left that lovely body shivering.
He took a moment to slip his finger along the pucker of Frerin's entrance. He carefully slipped a finger in, nice and slow. He felt the unsure clenching and he whispered softly, "It will be alright." Hsi words puffed over the tip of Frerin's cock. He slipped it into his mouth very gently running his tongue over the leaking slit. The taste was salty and that wonderful smell of Frerin's arousal made his cock twitch almost painfully. He continued to suck as he slipped another finger into the dwarf underneath him. Hands found their way into his hair, pulling him off of his tasty treat.
"I-I'm going to come if you don't-"
"That's the point." Thorin definitely wrapped his lips around the side of Frerin's cock, his tongue slipping around as much of the girth as he could in a teasing way. He added a third finger and had just started to pump his hand causing Frerin to come. The tightness around his fingers made him stop moving them. He waited for a good while, allowing his brother to catch his breath.
Once he was satisfied he started to pump his fingers, fanning them out here and there in hopes to make him wide enough. He smirked when he pulled his fingers out and Frerin, half hard already, mewled in protest. He took the tipped over pot and what was left in it slathered it over his cock, hissing at the pain of how hard he was.
Thorin hooked his thumb under the back of Frerin's knee, pulling a leg up so he had better access. He lined himself up and slowly pushed in. It was the single most fantastic feeling he was certain he would ever feel in his life. The warmth was amazing but it was the completion that overwhelmed him. Something long lost, his again, only his, forever his.
He rested his forehead against Frerin's, panting heavily, body shivering with the need to move. His brother hand one hand holding the back of Thorin's neck, while the other sought his, their fingers lacing together. Frerin's legs wrapped around his waist earning a small buck of his hips. The gasp from those lovely lips made Thorin test a few more thrusts. He growled out his own pleasure as Frerin came undone under him.
"Mahal, p-please~" his mouth was open, his head turned to the side in a pillow of his own golden hair, his lovely neck exposed. Thorin's own raven locks curtained around them, shielding Frerin's perfection from the world, his expressions only for Thorin to indulge in. "Mahal, please, f-fuck me!"
Thorin's hips snapped forward, he moved at a quick and hard pace causing Frerin's moaning figure to scoot up the mattress a bit. Every thrust he gave made his brother send praises up to their god, which in turn drove him insane with lust. His mouth bit and kissed at neck and lips.
What was his undoing was what fell from Frerin's lips it was jumbled, messy and misplaced but Thorin understood it. Frerin had said to him, "Oh Mahal, I love you."
Thorin tipped over the edge and spilled his seed inside of his brother. So blinding was his orgasim that he did not feel Frerin's second joining his. He gave a few pumps of his hips before collapsing to the side. He winced and fished the empty pot out from under him and chucked it lazily across the room. It broke and he didn't care. All he cared about were those sleepy brown eyes on him, how much full of love they were.
"I love you too." Thorin said, suppressing a yawn. He pulled Frerin close paying no mind to the mess of the sheets and themselves.
That sweet touch of hands through his hair lulled him to sleep.
Thorin woke from his memories. His head was resting on the table, an arm stretched out on the top the other dangling halfway off of his lap.
He was so tired. Now he was sore and even more depressed.
Frerin... his lovely Frerin...
"Udâd," Fili's little voice spoke up from the floor, those innocent blue eyes looking up at him.
Thorin groaned in pain when he moved. He could feel some of the bruises that Dis gave him, on the night he told her she could never see Kili again, were starting to protest. He managed to slip down onto the floor next to his son who turned to him and wrapped his little arms around his neck.
"Don't be sad." Fili said as he hugged tighter.
Thoring hugged his boy. It was nice to feel the positive touch of someone once again. It eased his mind a little. Though, he was certain, what remained in the rest of those journals would haunt him with more than just memories.