Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They had been on the road for only a few hours, making their way out of Hobbiton. Thorin rolled his eyes as he heard the hobbit complaining from the back about Mahal knows what. The sun slowly, made it's way across the sky and stars burst through the midnight as the moon rose. He sighed at the site of it, the days never seem to last long and nights last far too long. "We'll stop here for the night."Thorin instructed, climbing down from his pony and unloading her, ready to help set up camp. Gloin soon got a fire roaring away and, Bombur got to work cooking their supper while the others rolled out the bed rolls. Thorin sat starring into the darkness, scanning for signs of any hostile beings that may threaten them.
"Oi, give it a rest, you've been at it all day."Dwalin chide, holding out a bowl of stew for him.
"Thanks."Thorin grumbled, taking the offered food and chowing down.
"You shouldn't be so damn hard on yourself, it's not good."Dwalin scolded halfheartedly, "You should be more like Bofur."They watched as said dwarf, laughed so hard he fell backwards off the log he had been perched on. Thorin shook his head, grinning, he knew his friend was right but he couldn't help it, there was just so much resting on this venture and he didn't want anything to go wrong.

He had been halfway done with his stew, when there came a horrific cry and screams from just north of their camp. "What was that?"Squeaked young Ori, looking around the camp panic in his eyes. Thorin placed down the bowl and pulled out his sword.
"Kill the fire."He order, stepping forwards, "Kili, Fili, Ori and master Baggins, stay here and watch the camp. The rest of you, with me." They stepped carefully through the trees as to not make a sound, Thorin spotted a light ahead of them and usher the others forwards.
Orcs! At least eight of them, sat round a camp fire, the bodies of their slain victims scattered across the plain but due to the poor lighting, he could not make out what race they were. Charging forwards into the campsite, they gave a cry of battle, swinging their weapons, left and right. It did not take them long to whittle them down to just one, who Thorin had the greet honor of relieving it of his head. "Check for survivors." He then helped to look through the bodies and discovered they were elves and by their uniform they were the elves of Greenwood.
"Thorin! Over here!"Called Nori from across the campfire, waving him over. Thorin gasped, he recognized the elf straight away, it was Thranduil, King Of Greenwood. "I thought he was dead at first because his eyes are open but I heard him breathing." The elf had been gagged, his once beautiful clothes had been torn to shreds and his long blond hair, splattered in blood. Thorin nodded to himself, by rights he could have easily left the elf to die as he had done to him and his people all those years ago but he couldn't. Though his very blood ached for revenge, it was the moral thing to do.
"Dori, Balin and Bifur, scout out the woods and check there are no more camps nearby. Bofur, Bombur, Gloin, Nori; give these elves a respectable burial. They should not be left for wild animals. Dwalin, help me carry him back to our camp. Oin we'll need your help, to help heal him." He and Dwalin then lifting with their knees, carried the elf as carefully as possible back to their campsite, Oin following close behind.

They heard gasps as they entered the camp, they brought the elf over to a bed roll near the fire and laid him down, causing the elf to groan in pain. Taking out his knife, he cut the binding around the elf's mouth, noting the raw red mark from where it had been bound too tightly. Oin brought his medicine pack over, with all his supplies and, opening up what was left of Thranduil shirt; began his examination.
"Uncle, what can we do?"Came Kili's voice from over his shoulder.
"Kili, fetch a water skin, it doesn't matter who's. Fili and mister Baggins collect as much wood as you can and light the fire. And Ori, I want you to find, spare clothes and blankets bring as many as you can." He was answered by hurried footsteps setting to work.
"His heartbeat is a bit fast than what is healthy but nothing server. He does however, have bruising to the back of his head and arms."Oin informed him before turning to the elf's lower half. "Thorin lad, help me with his trousers." With slight reluctance, Thorin helped Oin remove the elf's trousers, leaving him bare. His eyes widened at sight he was greeted with, blood and semen drizzling from the elf's anus. It did not take a medic to understand what had happened to him. There was a gasp behind him, he turned to see his youngest nephew Kili looking at the elf, horror in his eyes.
"I-I brought the water, uncle."Kili managed, the lad looked on the verge of tears. Thorin got to his feet and held his sister's son in his arms, bringing their foreheads together. The lad nodded. "What else can I do?"
"Help Ori." Thorin answered then gripping Kili's young shoulders, he added. "If you need to talk about it, we can talk later, okay?"Kili nodded his understanding and went off to help Ori, leaving Thorin with the water skin. He then turned back to help Oin. Oin poured some of the water onto a cloth and started to dab as gently as possible, cleaning the elf, causing Thranduil to groan in agony.
"T-Thorin is that you?"Thorin turned to see the elf looking at him and, what seemed like joy in his eyes.
"Aye, it is me Thranduil."Thorin replied, keeping his tone calm. "What were you doing all the way out here?"
"I was going to Ered Luin." Thranduil whimpered against Oin touch.
"The Blue Mountain?"Thorin raised an eyebrow, what could elves want with their newest settlement.
"Yes, I-I wanted to apologies."Thorin stared down at elven king, dumbfounded. "I was coward and allowed my hubris to lead me, for those blasted jewels. Forgive me, I'm sorry, please. I'm so sorry."Tears fell heavy and fast down Thranduil face. Thorin had seen many terrible things in his years on Mahal's blessed earth but seeing Thranduil, like this, he had always been so emotionless with his demeanor but this. All the hate and loathing he had for the elf left him, he brought his forehead down and pressed it against the elf's while the elf tried to control his tears.
"You are forgiven." Thorin whispered to him, holding the elf's face in his hands. He felt warmth behind him as Fili and master Baggins brought the fire back to life.
"Thank you, thank you so much."Thranduil hiccuped, his tear finally ceasing.
"I've cleaned what I can but it'll be a couple of days, maybe even a week before you'll heal." Oin announced pouring some of the water into a bowl and cleaning his hands and cloth. "But until then, I have something to help relieve the pain." Rooting through his medic's bag he pulled out a bottle full of a thick black liquid that turned brown when held up to the light. "Now, usually this stuff is smoked but as your an elf. You'll have to swallow some of it. But no more than two teaspoonful, it's strong stuff and can be addicting if taken too much." He handed the bottle to Thorin while he searched for a teaspoon.
"Papaver Somniferum?"Thorin read the label, confused. He'd never heard of this before.
"It's also known as the "Sleep-bringing poppy". It's very good for pain relief but only to be used in serious cases, not for minor injuries."Thorin carefully lifted Thranduil while Oin poured out some of the rather disgusting looking mixture onto a teaspoon. "I'll warn you it's not gonna taste pleasant." Oin then offered up the spoon to Thranduil, who took it after the briefest hesitation. Thranduil gave shiver and wrinkled his nose. "That's it, just one more." Oin encouraged, offering up another teaspoon to the elven king, who with reluctance took the spoon back into his mouth, swallowing the liquid with another shiver. "There we go, it shouldn't take too long to take affect. Thorin, I need you to stay with him until he falls asleep. This stuff tends to have hallucinate properties." Thorin nodded, lowering Thranduil back down. He then removed his coat and, folding it, he laid it under the elf's head.
"Hallucinations?"Thranduil queered, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't worry lad. You'll probably feel strange for a while but the pain'll go away and make you fall asleep. You probably won't remember in the morning. So don't worry." Oin assured him, he tidied away his equipment and left Thorin and Thranduil alone, while he went to help the others.
"Uncle, we've got as much clothing and blankets as we could." Kili stated, him and Ori holding bundles of clothing and blankets. "What should we do, now?"
"Well done boys," He praised. "We need to find clothes that'll fit an elf or at least the closet thing we have." Together they sorted through the clothes but found that all the clothes they had were all much too small. Why did elves have to be so damn tall.
"Thorin. Bifur, Balin and myself have scouted the area but we couldn't find anymore orcs." Dori reported, "Is there anything else we can do?" Thorin thought for a moment then a idea came to his head.
"Dori, do you know anything about needle work, clothes repair and such?"
"Why, yes. It comes in handy when raising two young dwarves. Why?" Dori, smiled pleasantly.
"Could you take some of these items and make clothes to fit him?"Thorin motioned his head towards Thranduil, who lay silently. Dori brought his hand to his chin in thought.
"I reckon so."Bending down he searched through the bundles, plucking out several different items. "Ori, love. You come with me, we'll need help with this."
"Can I help?"Kili voiced, passionately. "I'm not very good at sewing or anything like that. But I'm good at cutting things."
"I know my way around a needle and thread, so I'll help as well." Master Baggins announced, raising from his seat near the fire.
"I don't now if I'll be of any use," Fili began. "But if there's anything you think I can do, I'd happy to help."
"Okay all of you, this way."Dori then lead them off to begin their new job and Thorin couldn't help but smile at his company. They had all worked so hard and were still willing to help out. Even master Baggins, who he had written off as a lost cause, was pulling his weight. And yes, he was no warrior but he was helping in a way he knew how.
"T-Thorin?"Came a distant sounding voice. He turned and found it had been Thranduil. His pupils had grown twice their normal size. "Thorin, why are my eyes singing to me?" Thorin had to restrain himself from laughing, it wasn't easy. "I wouldn't mind so much but my left eye is out of tune." Thorin pulled out one of the blankets from the bundles and covered Thranduil as best he could.
"I'm just putting this blanket on you to keep you warm, Okay?"Thorin said as calmly and clearly as possible.
"Okay."Thranduil mumbled, gasping as he touched his fingertips together, holding them up for Thorin's inspection. Thorin nodded to him, a smile playing on his lips. Thranduil's hand came up to Thorin's face, gently running through his beard, smiling happily. "So soft." It wasn't long after that the elven king dropped to sleep, peacefully. Thorin got up from his seat next Thranduil and went to help the others.

After helping Thorin carry the elf, Dwalin had gone to help Nori, Bofur, Gloin and Bombur. And that was where Thorin found him, just as they finished. "Is the all of them?"Thorin inquired, approaching Dwalin.
"Aye, I'm not keen on elves but it's saddening to see them cut down,"Dwalin sighed. "How is their king?"
"He's asleep, thankfully." Thorin shuddered at memories that came flooding back. "You don't want to know what those creature had done to him." Dwalin nodded, turning glance at the moon that still shone down on them. "Do you know where they were going?" Dwalin shook his. "The Blue Mountain, he traveled all the way out here just to apologies." Dwalin gasped.
"Did he now?"Dwalin looked to Thorin. Thorin nodded, folding his arms across his chest.
"It was possibly the saddest thing I've ever seen in my life. He just started crying, begging me to forgive him."Thorin looked down at his hands. "So I did. I bet you think I'm an idiot, right?"
"Actually, I think it was pretty noble of you. Not just to help him but also to forgive him, especially after what he had done."Dwalin sighed once more before turning to Thorin with a smile. "Besides, though I may seem gruff, I'd probably forgive him too." They share a smile and with the others following close behind they returned to the camp.
Back at the camp, Dori and his group sat together sewing an outfit for an elf, they had already made the long trousers out of a thick, deep blue, fabric. Bofur had while helping the others bury the dead elves, had managed to salvage a pair elven shoes. Though the fabric was stained with blood and torn, Bofur insisted that the soul of the shoes were still good. His cousin Bifur had signed to them, agreeing with his idea and had gone to work, helping Bofur. Thorin couldn't help but grin at the sight of them all, moments like this made him proud to be dwarf. He then walked off to see what he could do to help.

They all had a long and tiring night and now most of them now lay down fast asleep. The clothes they had made lay next to elven king's head while he slept, neatly folded and the new shoes sat on top. Thorin sat still wide awake, watching the darkness for anything looming there. "Uncle, c-can I sit with you?"Kili whispered, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Thorin moved over on his seat, allowing Kili to sit down.
"Do you want to talk, now?"He brought his arm around his sister's son and, pulled him to his chest. Kili looked down at the floor.
"I knew that orcs kill and I knew that if they court me that they'd try to kill me. But I-I never knew they would ... I never thought they would ..."Kili broke off, Thorin felt dampness against his chest. He squeezed the lad's arm, resting his chin on his head.
"The world's a cruel place Kili, "He mumbled into the soft brunette hair. "That's why we have to be strong Kili, to be able to fight back the darkness and adapt and become stronger. It's never easy, especially when your so young but if you need help, I'm here and your mother back home and, Fili. If you need us." He heard soft breathing against his chest and noticed the lad had fallen asleep. He sighed and, lifting him up, carried him to his bed roll next to his brother. Laying him down carefully as to not wake him, he covered him in the blanket that had been around his shoulder's. He then returned to his post by the fire.

Chapter Text

Thranduil groaned as he opened his eyes, he didn't know why but his head felt slightly light headed. He looked around him and saw that the dwarves were all fast asleep still, so slowly as to not wake them, he pulled himself to his feet; wincing at the pain in his backside and, the ache of his limbs. His arms flew out and held onto a nearby tree, his legs wobbling under him. He sighed with relief when his body adjusted and he no longer felt light headed. It was then that he realized his was almost, save for the tattered shirt, completely naked. Scanning the floor he spotted his shredded and filthy, trousers. He gasped at them, sorrow in his heart, they had once been so beautiful but now they laid disgusting remnants of what had happened. It was then he spotted the pile of clothes next to his bed roll. Letting go of the tree, he moved cautiously towards them and taking up the boots, he examined them; turning them in his hands. He recognized the soul of the boot of that of his former pair but the material surrounding them was new. They were made of a hazel coloured material, with a fine fur lining with straps attached as to hold in his feet and not slip off easily. Though he was not keen on the idea of wearing fur, Thranduil appreciated the time and work that had gone into making them and slipped them on. They were so soft and so warm and comfy, he sighed at the feeling. He then pulled the long, deep, blue trousers onto his legs. His whole body sang at having his legs hugged, his muscles relaxing. The next piece of clothing was a shirt made out of a maroon fabric, usually Thranduil would have been put off by the mishmash of colours he was presented with but he didn't honestly care, they were all beautiful to him. After all they had been made with him in mind and, they could have easily just handed him a sack to wear instead but they had put in noticeable effort and it made his heart swell, happily. Pulling off his ragged old shirt, he pulled on the sleeveless shirt, he notice there was just one more piece to his wardrobe, a dark grey, fur lined coat with small brass buttons. He could not help but beam holding the coat open at arms length, he had to admit it was rather splendid. Slipping it on, he felt the warm and soft fur, instantly cuddling him. Yes, he felt wonderful. "What would the other elves think to look at me."He chuckled, merrily. "What on earth would my darling Legolas think of his old, ada. Dressed like this."

Thorin woke to sound happy chatter and to the smell of breakfast cooking. Pulling himself up into a sitting position, he was greeted by the sight of the elven king, wearing his new clothes and hair tide back, bent over cooking meat over the fire. He blinked at the sight.
"Good morning, Thorin."Thranduil greeted him, plating up the cooked food and offering it to him. Thorin took it.
"Good morning, Thranduil. How long have you been awake?"Thorin questioned, looking him up and down, his new clothes laying flat around his body, exposing not only his upper bodies muscle but also the fine curve of his backside. Thorin had never noticed that before now, the elven king had always taken to wearing long, flowing, gowns. Hiding away any figure he may have and Mahal was it a figure.
"Not that long, actually. I got up and borrowed Kili's bow and arrow and went out hunting. I shot four rabbits and two pheasants. Don't worry, I cleaned the arrows and left the skins and feathers, if you have use for them." Thranduil replied, motioning over his shoulder. Thorin snapped his jaw shut after realizing he was staring and started tearing into his food. It deliciously cooked and well seasoned, he had not expected this of the elf, he had assumed that such skills beneath the elven king and had reserved such tasks to his staff. So it was a nice surprise, to say the least.

"Well this is nice surprise. Greetings Thranduil, king of Greenwood."Thorin turned his head to the right and was greeted by Gandalf, the grey wanderer. The wizard had gone on ahead on one of his wizard errands, Thorin did not ask what the errands were nor did he want to know, leave the wizard to his own business.

"Mithrandir, I should have know this had something to do with you."Thranduil grinned, rolling his eyes.

"Why, what on earth do you mean?"Gandalf asked, innocently.

"You know exactly what I mean. This has got your mark all over it." Thranduil then got up from his seat and offered the wizard a plate of food. "I'm guessing you would like something to eat."

"Much obliged." Gandalf thanked him, resting near a tree with his plate. Thranduil then returned to his seat near the fire, wincing slightly as he sat.
When Thorin finished his food, he looked around the campsite at the merry and well fed dwarves and hobbit, who chattered among themselves. It was strange that just the day before they had set off together as an odd troop, akin to what he assumed looked like a circus act but now; even master Baggins had integrated into the group, talking to Dori, Ori and Bofur about family and home life. And the elven king, seemingly had glistened through, like a beautiful emerald hidden behind rock; sat now discussing hunting techniques with his sister's sons.
"Very tasty." Dwalin mumbled, nudging Thorin in his ribs. "And I don't just mean the food." And Thorin had to agree with his old friend, very tasty indeed.

Once everyone had finished eating and had load up their ponies, they headed out on the road leading them to Erebor. Since Thranduil did not have a pony and since he was still healing, Thorin had offered him to ride on his pony because she was not carrying much and was one of the stronger ponies, among her kind. So sitting side-saddle as it was the most comfortable position, Thranduil held onto Thorin as they rode down the path. Thorin found it strangely intimate having someone holding onto him, so close but he soon put that thought out of his mind when he reserved a mischievous wink from Dwalin, who rode by his side. "Thranduil, can I ask you a question?"Came young Ori voice from behind them.

"Yes, of course. What is it?"Thranduil called back.

"Well, I was just wondering ... that is ... is it true elves live in trees?"Ori stuttered.

"Personally, myself and my people don't live in trees. Nor do the elves of Rivendell but the elves of Lothlorien do. Most of them life in tree houses above the earth, reaching up into the sky above. It's rather breathtaking, really and oh so beautiful. If you could see it in the autumn, when the golden leaves of the mallorn tree fall and, create a path of gold."Thranduil sighed, dreamily.

"Leaves of gold?"Questioned Fili's voice.

"Yes, leaves of gold. The lady of Lothlorien, lady Galadriel, planted the mallorn trees herself; when her and her husband, lord Celeborn first came to Lorien."The elf informed them, pleasantly laying his head on Thorin shoulder. "If ever you get a chance to go, you should, even if it's just for a glance at it's pure majesty."

"It sounds wonderful." Master Baggins commented from the back.

"Master elf, if you don't live in a tree, where do you live?" Asked Bofur, curiously.

"We live in a palace in the heart of Greenwood, it's rather pleasant and tranquil, save for the orcs; who on occasion venture into our territory." Thranduil seemed to stop lost in thought. Thorin, thinking quickly, gave the elf a soft nudge in the stomach. That seemed to help as the elf continued. "But we have a very good ally to the west of use, his name is Beorn. He's quiet nice, if court in a good mood, otherwise I wouldn't approach him, unless you don't having limps ripped off." The was an audible shudder from the entire company. A soft and almost unnoticeable "Thank you." was breathed into Thorin's ear.

"Pray, do not mention it."He mumbled under his, so that the others would not hear.

"If you don't me asking, master Thranduil. But is it true that elves don't wear undergarments."Dwalin announced, smirking at Thorin, who did his best to ignore his friend. "It's just I overheard an old friend of mine discussing it in a bar and, I was just wondering if it was true?"

"Erm, well it might be but pray tell, what are undergarments?"There was silence, broken only by giggling by: Bofur, Kili, Fili and that damnable wizard.

"Why don't you explain it, Thorin?"Dwalin, suggested fighting back a laugh of his own. Thorin glared at him then he sighed.

"Undergarments are a piece or pieces of clothing that hold and cover you private areas on your body."Thorin explained, matter o factually, shooting imaginary daggers at Dwalin from where he sat.

"Oh I see, well to answer your question. No, I'm not sure if any elves wear undergarments, certainly no one in Greenwood does." Thorin felt a blush grow under his beard but tried his best to suppress it.

"How do you know no one wears them, in Greenwood?"Gloin voiced.

"Well, there might be some elves who do but it's never been on the list of goods that my people wish us to import from Laketown."The elf answered.

They continued on the road until the sun once again to Thorin's dismay, sank below the horizon. Helping Thranduil carefully, off his rather exhausted looking pony, he set to work setting up their camp for the night. Thranduil had insisted upon hunting for them, taking with him Kili and Fili, who were both eager to help. While they were out of ear shot, Thorin approached Dwalin and, with all his embarrassment from before focused into his fist, he showed the dwarf his appreciation. A strong, right hook to the upper arm. "Hey, what was that for?"Dwalin protested, rubbing his now numb arm.

"You damn well know what."Thorin crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Undergarments. "Thorin why don't you explain" You know exactly what you were playing at." Dwalin smiled at him.

"I fought that maybe a few hints here and there might help you out a bit, that's all."Then in a quieter tone "I saw the way you were drooling over him this morning."Thorin hunched up his shoulders, his face becoming warm. "Undergarments are admittedly is rather large hint but I'm not so greet at subtle, comes of just saying what I think, rather than hiding behind flowery, long winded, metaphors." Their conversation was however, was cut short by Thranduil and Fili and Kili returning and, claiming they had found a campsite of trolls.

"Trolls!"Shrieked master Baggins, jumping as if the very word had sent a shock through his body. "If they catch us, we'll be eaten for sure, bones and all."

"Calm down, master Baggins."Thorin instructed, stepping forwards. "Nobody is going to be eaten."

"What's your plan, laddie?"Balin inquiered, placing a hand on Thorin's shoulder.

Chapter Text

"Gandalf, what do you know about trolls?"Thorin asked, turning to the wizard. "Any weaknesses they have?"Gandalf seemed to think for a while before answering.
"Well, they are easily confused, due to their small intellect. And if my memory serves me right, I believe they turn to stone in the sunlight."
"Sunlight but the sun won't be up for hours."Kili whined.
"What we need is a distraction, until the sunrises."Thranduil surmised, thoughtfully.
"And then what?"Bifur grunted and accompanied it with a few aggressive hand gestures.
"I have an idea,"Thorin announced, bringing himself to everyone's attention. "Gloin and Dwalin, I want you two to cut away the branches of the trees facing to the east, to allow in the sun into their camp. Master Baggins because you a weaponless you should stay here and watch the camp. Thranduil, I don't want you straining yourself, you will stay here with master Baggins."Thranduil was about to protest against Thorin's judgement but was silenced when Thorin gave him a stern look. And with a sigh, he nodded. "Gandalf since you're good at being a distraction, you are to distract the trolls and make them confused, Bofur, Ori and Kili I'd like you to help him as best you can. The rest of you with me, our job is to stop the trolls from leaving the area and to guard the perimeter and, to spring into action if needed." With this in mind they set out with their tasks at hand.

Just to the west of their camp, sat three trolls around a fire, cooking something that smelled revolting. "Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrer,"Grunted one before taking a gulp from it's tankard. A muddy brown liquid running down the corners of his mouth. "I don't know why we let William bring us out ere."
"Shut your pie hole!"Shouted a second one, hitting the first troll on the head with a ladle before returning to stirring a bubbling pot over the fire. "You'll get what I cook or starve, you horrible little maggot." The first troll sniveled, shrinking away from the other troll, taking another slug from his tankard. "I try my best an all you two twerps do is complain. Would a little common courtesy kill ya? a "Oh, thank you very much Bert" is that so hard to ask for?"
"It is with your cooking!"Came a gruff voice to Bert's right.
"Watch yer mouth!" Shouted Bert, giving the first troll another whack of his ladle. "You think ya can do better, do you?"
"It weren't me!" Squealed the troll, shielding himself from Bert with his tankard.
"It smells like a goblin's armpit!"Shouted a voice from their left. Bert then turn to face the third troll and hit him on the head, smashing his face into his tankard.
"Ere! What's your game!?"Cried the third troll, raising from the stump he had been sat on and thumping Bert with what remains of his tankard.

Meanwhile back the dwarves campsite, Thranduil sat feeling useless and unneeded. He knew Thorin's intentions were good but he didn't like having to sit there and do nothing, it made his body itch. "It'll be okay, your majesty." Thranduil turned and was greeted by master Baggins, who was at that moment stewing the leftover rabbit. "I often feel helpless. But at least in a few days, maybe week at the most, you'll be back on your feet. I mean, even without a weapon I bet you could at least defend yourself."
"Oh come now, master Baggins. I'm sure you can defend yourself in battle, just fine."Thranduil looked into the hobbit's hazel eyes but instead of seeing a jesting twinkle, he saw only truth and an underlining fear. "Truly?"
"Clumsy punches are the best you'll get from me, I'm afraid."The hobbit mumbled, managing a half grin before turning back to his work. Thranduil looked the hobbit up and down and thought on what he had been told. He knew that the poor creature would be easy pickings for any attacking force, killed, kidnapped or ... No, he would not allow it. But at the same time he knew the hobbit could not always rely on the others to protect him. The only way was to have the hobbit trained in combat, even the most basic moves could save him from peril's arms. It wouldn't be easy on master Baggins, hobbits being gentle folk and, not creatures meant for fighting but it was the best root and safest. Thranduil made a mental note talk with Thorin about the idea, once he and others returned.

The trolls lumbered at one another, throwing punches, biting, kicking. It had been hours since the first blow had been landed and yet none of them could remember why they had started fighting but they continued on unprompted by the voices in the trees nearby. Finally the fighting broke off when they noticed the light that seared at their skin as sun rose into the sky behind them. They gargled and screamed while their skin blistered into stone, setting them in statue form for until the end of time. The dwarves cheered, Dwalin, Gloin, Bofur, Ori, Kili and Gandalf climbed carefully down to the ground and were joined by Thorin and the others, all ready for a good nights rest. When they returned to their camp they found both their burglar and the elven king already asleep and a pot of cold rabbit stew sat over the now dead fire. Thorin sighed at the scene but did not feel like anything but sleep, they would have to salvage what they could later. "Rest now, none shall harm you." Gandalf assured them, taking watch over their camp. With a nod to Gandalf, he found his bed roll and fell into a welcomed slumber.

"Thorin. Th-o-rin." Thorin cracked open an eye and was granted a beautiful vision, golden hair haloed by a bright light and though the creature had no beard; he wore dwarven attire that sat well on him and, had a face that could have been carved out of a fine marble. He was indeed a vision sent by Mahal himself. "It's dinner time, time to get ..."But the vision was silenced by Thorin's finger against his lips accompanied by a "shh." Thorin's finger brushed down his lip to his chin and brought his other hand up to the angelic face and, slowly he moved his hands that gently cupped the dazzling face, stroking his thumps against the soft , flushed cheeks.
"By Mahal's beard, you are truly a wonderful creation."Thorin whispered to the vision, bringing the creatures face to his, pressing his rough lips to the soft, rose like ones. His hands had found his soft earlobes and pressed his fingers on upwards, expecting to find the nicely rounded tip of the ear as it connected to his head. He froze. His fingers ran over the same place, finding not the round he had expected but instead pointed tips greeted him and Thorin snapped now fully awake. Releasing the elven kings rather flustered face he had been about to apologies for his behavior but was intercepted by the elf bringing his lips to rest gently against his forehead. Thranduil beamed at him grasping his hands and pulling him up.
"Come now before your dinner gets cold." And Thorin followed him willingly.

Chapter Text

Thranduil handed Thorin his dinner of leftover rabbit stew, sitting down on the log opposite, he felt the blush rise once more to his cheeks. Daring to look towards the dwarven king through half closed eyes, he had never realized how well groomed his beard was before and; how intricate and precise the braids in his hair were before. It was then that he noted to his mortification, he had been staring and curling his hair around fingers, like a silly, elfling with their first crush. Breaking his stare, he turned back to his stew, though secretly he hoped one day Thorin would share his braiding techniques. He was however, brought out of his thoughts by Gandalf.
"Those trolls could not have moved during the day which means there must be a cave, nearby." The wizard announced, sending a smokey dot through the air over their heads, firing an arrow composed of smoke after it which met it's mark before disintegrating. Though smoking revolted him, he had to admit that had been very well done and kind of fun looking but smoking wasn't for him. "What say before heading back out on our journey, we investigate. There may be treasure to be found there." At the word "treasure" every dwarf seemed in a rather quick rush to have done with their stew, gulping it down.
"You'll get indigestion if you keep on like that." Warned master Baggins, waving his spoon at them.
"Indigestion's for the weak." Kili boasted, throwing his spoon to the wayside and bringing the bowl to his lips; he guzzled it down.
"Down in one! Down in one!" Chanted Fili, Bofur and Nori, pumping their arms in the air as they did so. Thranduil couldn't hold back the laugh that had built up inside him, he did not even cover his mouth as he through back his head, chuckling into cloudless, blue, heavens above.

Thorin had never seen the elven king laugh so openly before in his life, the elf always so composed and when laughter came to his lips he would hide it behind his hand. So to see him, roaring with laughter and at such a juvenile and uncouth series of events, he felt a strange warmth grow in his heart which he had only ever felt when in the company of his closet family. Like when Fili and Kili did something to make him feel proud but it was different, somehow.
"Come on master Baggins, your such a slow eater." Kili grumbled, impatiently.
"I'm sorry young master dwarf but I was raised to savor every mouthful. Not chuck it back, tasting only the small droplets that manage to land on my tongue." Master Baggins stated and seemed to deliberately slow down his eating, to annoy his sister's son which got Thorin to chuckle.

Once everyone, including master Baggins, had finished eating they had packed away their belongings ready for them to leave and giving Ori, Dori and Bombur the task of looking after their ponies while the rest of them investigated the troll cave. And by Eru did it smell, Thranduil had changed his fair share of dirty elfling cloths, during Legolas' baby years but that was a scent worthy of turning into a perfume in comparison to the cave in front of him. Steeling himself against the stench, he followed after Gandalf and Thorin, going down past rearmament of warriors and creatures of unknown origin and chests full of gold coins and gemstones, spilling out onto the floor. They continued down further into the caves dark passage, cobwebs threatening to tangle in his clothes and hair, ducking under another few webs he spotted them. Racks and racks of swords, covered in dust and yet again more cobwebs.
"These swords were not made by any troll." Thorin announced, holding one sword up for his own inspection, handing another over to Gandalf.
"Nor were they made by any smith of my men." The wizard concurs, examining his own sword. Regardless of the darkness surrounding, Thranduil could make out the marking inscribed onto the blades and their slender, yet strong forms.
"They were forged in Gondolin by the high elves of the first age." He gasped, taking up a sword for himself and pulling it free of it's scabbard. "I recognize the markings and their shape. My weapons tutor Gwiwer, back when my father ruled over Greenwood, used to show me pictures of them in old tomes. He believed that you could not find nor ask for a better sword in the world." He checked the fine metal work, reflections of the elves themselves, delicate looking but fierce when tested against any might or force, each blade told it's own unique story and held it's own in any history book.
"Your weapons master was called "Squirrel"?" Gandalf raised an amused brow.
"Oh no his name was Brôg, due to his strength and height." Thranduil clarified. "But we called him Gwiwer because he had a stash of chestnuts in his room and to tease him a bit when we thought he had been too harsh on us." He giggled at the memory, it had been a long time since he had been an elfling, so many years. He then noticed the dwarf king stood next to him, looking him up and down with a wicked grin on his face. "What? What are you staring at me like that for?"
"It's nothing." Thorin cleared his throat and looked to the sword in his hand. "If this sword is truly worthy of the praise you have bestowed upon it, then I will happily house it on my belt." And with that he unbuckled his belt, buckling it once again with his sword securely fastened to it. Thranduil and Gandalf copied his motion and were about to leave when Gandalf stopped and bending down he came back to his full height carrying a much smaller and rounded sword.
"For master Baggins?" Thranduil guessed, pointing to the weapon more akin to a letter opener.
"My thoughts exactly." Mithrandir smiled at him with a nod.
"Oh, that reminds me." He quickly court up with Thorin, tapping him gently on the shoulder. "Thorin, may I ask you a small favor?"
"What is it, Thranduil?" The dwarf looked at him in slight concern.
"Well, it not really me but rather master Baggins." He began. "He told be he is not really, fit for combat purposes. And I worry about what may happen if he was to face battle alone against a foe. He would not stand a chance. So I was wondering if you or one of your men could give him some lessons. Even if it is just the basics of combat, like blocking or just how to strike an opponent, would do him the world of. What do you think?" Thorin seemed to think about his proposition for just a mere minute before a mischievous grin grow on his face.
"I think it is a wonderful idea, master elf. And I believe I know that perfect dwarf for the job." And with that they headed to the surface, Thranduil spotted that one of the chest of gold had vanished and in it's place suspiciously, freshly, dug earth.

"Why me?" Dwalin question looking at him and Thranduil who loomed nearby.
"Well Dwalin, I thought it the perfect match, since you are both an accomplished warrior and soldier. And you did train both of my nephews, among other dwarves in combat." Thorin smirked, folding his arms in front of his chest.
"Aye and what marvelous job I did of that." Dwalin commented, following Fili and Kili with his eyes as they ran away from their burglar, whom they had been teasing for the past few minutes.
"You know what I mean." Thorin chide. "I'm not asking you to make him a master but just the basic." Dwalin squinted his eyes at him, as if trying to read the small print in a contract.
"This is your revenge for yesterday, isn't it?" Dwalin mumbled so that only they could hear. Thorin didn't answer but he nodded, his smirk only growing. "Fine, I'll teach master Baggins what I can, but I'm not promising anything."
"I don't expect miracles." Thorin nodded his understanding and gathering up the others and giving his sister's son a soft, lighthearted, scolding; they headed back to camp.
"From the looks on your faces, I take it you found something interesting in the cave?" Bombur inquired, raising from his seat.
"Aye, whole chests full of gold and jewels." Gloin spoke up first, merrily.
"Yeah and master Baggins has butter knife now, so watch out!" Kili called forwards, over dramatically flailing his arms in the air. He and his brother then dissolved into childish laughter only broken by a silent glare given to them by Dori. Years of more or less single-handedly raising two young dwarflings, Dori had perfected the "mother's glare". The glare that mother's gave their children when they did or said something that they disapproved of; wordlessly daring the child or children to keep up the disobedient behavior and threatening unspoken consequences. But what frightened Thorin about Dori's glare in particular was just how quickly he could revert back to his usual pleasant self as if nothing had happened seconds beforehand.
"Ignore them, Bilbo. I think your sword compliments you perfectly." Dori smiled pleasantly, causing a shiver to run down Thorin's spine.
"Truly?" Master Baggins looked down at himself, doubtfully.
Dori nodded. "Very handsome if I do say so myself." They shared a grin and Dori patted their burglar on the shoulders.

Chapter Text

Thranduil was helped onto the back of Thorin's pony, who dutifully took his weight on top of her master's and they set off on the road once more. "Thranduil, you look like you could use a rest." Thorin suggested, quietly so only they could hear. "If you want, you can rest? I promise I shan't let you fall." Thranduil wrapped his arms more securely around Thorin's middle, resting his head gently on the dwarf's small but surprisingly strong, shoulder.
"Are you sure I shall not be a burden." Though inside he already felt like a burden, truly over than the past few days; other than hunting and cooking food, Thranduil hadn't really contributed much. The last thing he wanted was to make it more of a labor.
"Nay, no burden at all, just hold on. I shall wake you when we arrive at the new camp." Thorin assured him, so allowing his eye lids to close he left the real world and entered his dream state.

It quickly went dark in his dream, the only light a campfire to his right. He couldn't moved, like he was being held in place, he tried to twist and shove his body to escape the grip on his arms but to no avail. He wanted to tell whatever if was to let him go but something tight around his mouth prevented him. It was then he recognized what was happening as a cold, sharp, point of a dirty, finger nail scraped under his chin and dark language was cooed at him. Were his previous self would have growled at the disgusting creature in front of him, instead his new self, whimpered at the memory of what was to come. He tried a last ditch attempt to break free of the hands holding him but nothing came of it as the creatures tor at his clothes' shredding them into pieces before his eyes. He screamed against the gag as he was forced into lying doing on the forest floor. He flailed and kicked his legs that were quickly court and pulled apart, leaving him fully exposed, to the enjoyment of the orcs that surrounded him, wanting their way with his untainted, body. "No please, Eru save me!" Thranduil screamed against his bindings but quickly and all too suddenly he felt a harsh burning pain growing in his backside and ...
Everything dissolved, the pain remained but all he could see was blackness. The cruel creatures that mocked and hurt him were nowhere to be seen, he felt like his was floating in lake or pool of water, his body weightless and cushioned by something molding to his body. Then he began to sink below the waves that had once held him so kindly and comforting, now engulfing him. He couldn't breathe. He was going to drown. He could not breathe. Breathe. Breathe Thranduil, damn it! Breathe! He gasped, taking whatever it was into him, filling him and he startled. He could breathe. He took in another lungful. He could breathe but he felt a strange feeling in him, a feeling he had never felt before. Like a hand mirror thrown against a wall, fragmented into pieces and he seemed to be missing some. Thranduil felt tears forming in his eyes. He didn't understand. What did it mean? What was he seeing and feeling? He didn't understand. The tears came thick and fast floating around him, he felt shameful and pitiful, like a naughty, little, elfling. Why had Eru forsaken him and left him to rot?
Then he heard it in the depths of him mind. "Help us! Thranduil! Over here! Help us!" He knew the voice and all too fast the image floated before him and, no matter where he turned; he was forced to face it. To face him. To face the then prince under the mountain, prince Thorin of Erebor. He spotted himself, sat tall and proud on his mighty elk before them. "Help us!" Came Thorin's desperate, plea from below once more, waving his arms making himself known to the elven king. The elf halted his armies steps ans surveying the area, he turned and, left; taking his army of wood elves with him.
"Turn around you fool!" Thranduil screamed at himself. "Turn around, please!" Bringing his hands up, he cupped his face and sobbed.
"Thranduil, can you hear me? Thranduil, wake up."
Slowly, he managed to break through his dreams and was once again in the real world, no longer holding onto Thorin he had been laid down a bed roll. He turned and found Thorin, no longer the prince he had once known but the older and wiser, king he now knew by that same name. "Are you okay? You've been crying on the way here." Thorin informed him, concern in his eyes. "We had to wrestle to get you to lie down, you were kicking and screaming at us." Thranduil became very warm in his face and felt so insecure and childish. He was so ashamed of himself, covering his face, he bolted; running as fast his legs would carrying him. "Thranduil, where are you going? Come back!" Thorin shouted after him but he could not bring himself to turn around and continued to run.

Damn elves for their long legs and athletic abilities, Thorin thought to himself as he chased after the elven king, loosing sight of him as he made his way through the trees. He thanked Mahal for the times he and his father had spent hunting together, teaching Thorin all he knew about tracking animals. So using his knowledge, he back tracked till he found Thranduil's larger and slender foot prints in the earth. Pacing himself, he followed the king's path, through bushes and over fallen trees; till pulling back a elm tree's branch, he spotted him. Knelt besides a small, stream of water, his head bowed. His once beautiful, golden hair had been cut into a crude and uneven bob. His sword had been removed from it's scabbard and laid be his side, Thorin guessed it had been the tool Thranduil had used. Stepping quietly and softly forwards, he approached the elf. "Go away, Thorin." Thranduil turned his head away from Thorin's sight. "I don't deserve you kindness nor your time and patience. I have done nothing but shameful things to you and your company. Please, leave me; return to your company and go on your way." Thorin took a few more hesitated steps, picking up sword he pushed it back into it's scabbard.
"Do you truly believe that, Thranduil?" Thorin prompted. "That you do not deserve kindness that only despair and hurt should accommodate you?"
"After what I did, turning my back on you and your kind. Not even giving you aid when you needed me the most. But still yourself and your company have shown me care, hospitality and concern for my well being." Thranduil cried at him, showing Thorin his face, tear streaked and flustered. "I am no different from the orcs that defiled my body. I do not deserve to call myself an elf, let alone a king. I am no child of Eru. I am of the creation of Melkor! I am a monster!"
"What you did to myself and my kin still hurts and will never truly heal." Thorin began, pressing the sword in his hands to his chest. "Dwarves and elves are not like men, who change their history to make things more palatable or change it to the extent it is not recognizable. So what happened shan't be forgotten ..."
"Then why have you all shown me kindness? Why did you not leave me to die? You had every right to do so." Thranduil interrupted him. "I don't understand! Oh Eru, why does nothing make sense anymore?!"
"Because we have both lost something precious to us. We have bled, you have bled. We have felt hurt and hostility and so have you." Thorin paused, stepping closer till he reached his hand out, resting it on Thranduil's slender and quivering shoulder. "And, you have shown us you are willing to change. To put our past behind us and help us to move on. And the only way to move on is to move together, forwards and create a new path of our own. Myself and my company, we may have only two hundred years before we all meet Mahal's pearly gates, you. You are an immortal being, you'll live with the pain and the memory for the rest of your life, for however long you live. There would be no point or gratification in causing you more pain by casting you aside. That is why we show you kindness and care and ask you to join us on our journey, to help you learn and breathe in your skin once more. You may never forget what happened but that does not mean the punch that passes through your mind year after year cannot be soften, to give a gentler punch. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Thranduil looked down into his lap.
"I-I think so." Thranduil stuttered with a nod. "I will come with you, if you don't mind travelling with a monster." Thorin came to stand in front of the elf and squatting down, he held Thranduil's face in his palms.
"You are no monster, child of Eru." He smiled to the elf. "Do want to know how I know?" Thranduil look puzzled before nodding. "Monsters cannot cry real tears." Thranduil through the tears, beamed at him. "Thank you." Thorin then pulling the elven king to his feet, handed him back his sword which he promptly housed back on his belt.
"Come, no more tears. Let us return to the others and have something to eat." Thorin instructed, taking Thranduil's hand and pulling him back the way they had traveled, they returned to their campsite. And Thranduil followed him willingly.

Chapter Text

When Thorin returned to the campsite with Thranduil, the others had fallen asleep save for the wizard, who had seemingly wandered off again. Pulling Thranduil over to a seat by the still roaring fire. Pushing the elf by his shoulders into a sitting position, there was something he wanted to do first before they ate. Rooting through his belongings, he pulled free a towel, his comb and scissors and, looking over his shoulder he noted the worried look from the elven king. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing." He whispered his assurance to the elf, draping his towel over the elf's shoulders. If there was one thing that he knew both he and his kin prided themselves on more than their skill at metal work, it was their hair. And he knew for a fact that elves also held greet pride in their hair, growing it to ridiculous lengths as a mark of their beauty. So for an elven king such as Thranduil was, with his short, jagged and shapeless hair would be heartbreaking for anyone to lay their eyes upon. But it wasn't short that it could not be salvaged which was what Thorin intended to do as he also knew that when the morning sun rose, Thranduil would glance upon his hair at the mess he had made of it and blame himself. And the elven king had already blamed himself enough for months to come.
Parting the hair in the middle, his comb ran through the hair with ease then lifting the ends, he cut the hair on a diagonal angle slant. His hopes by doing this was to cause the hair to curve round, framing the elf's face, giving him shape to hair, though if would be short it could not helped. He repeated this process across Thranduil's hair until he was satisfied with the look. So walking round to face the elf from the front, he checked that the length matched on each side and folding his arms he smiled triumphantly at his creation. But there was something not right. Then snapping his fingers, taking up his comb, he brushed some of the hair in front of the elf's face.
"Thorin, what are you doing?" Thranduil question in a hushed tone, newly blinded by the hair.

"I'm giving you a fringe." Thorin informed him. "Now, stay still and close your eyes."

"A fringe? I've never had a fringe before in my life." Thranduil stated as Thorin set to work. He wouldn't make the fringe too short, just enough to be noticeable and enable Thranduil to see, rather than just the boring old curtain look which elves were fond of. And the curtain look was fine enough when your hair was long and you were able to tie it back out of your eyes. But when it was this short you couldn't really pulled it back or hang it behind your ear.

"Never?" Thorin prompted, cutting the hair once again at a diagonal slope.

"Well, elves just let it all grow out, really." Thranduil admitted to him as Thorin parted the hair once again down the middle, the shorter hair going to sit on the left side of his face while the slightly longer pieces sat to the right. Yes, he was happy with this. He only hoped Thranduil would be equally pleased. Giving it one last comb over, removing left over loose hairs, he carefully pulled away the towel. Taking it away from the others who still lay asleep, he fluttered his towel, freeing it of most of the hairs that had rested on it. Folding it and the scissors and comb back into his pack, he returned to the elven king and with great hesitation, pulled free his sword and handed it to Thranduil, for his inspection.

Taking the sword offered to him, he braced himself and peered at his reflection in the swords blade. He gasped at the site, bringing his quivering hand up he ran it through his fringe. Then tilting his head to the side, he gently patted the top of his head as if unsure it was actually there. "Do you ... do you not like it?" The dwarf inquired, coming to sit next to him on and picking up a nearby stick he poked at the fire.
"No, no the hair looks wonderful." He insisted because truth be told after Thranduil had butter his beautiful locks that Thorin had somehow managed to make something out of that mess was a blessing in on itself. "It's just ... I've never really had hair this short before, not intentionally anyway. It'll just take some getting used too that's all. But what you did with it is actually quiet impressive and I thank you kindly for it." That got a smile from the king under the mountain, as the flames warmed them, the moonlight shining in Oakenshield's eyes as well something else, Thranduil could not name. Maybe it had been the need for warmth that had prompted it in Thranduil's mind or how strangely joyous that grin had made him feel but he inched closer to the dwarf. After everything that happened in the past few days they had been together, it surprised him how difficult it had been to come this close to one another, still. He beamed down at the other and felt a sudden hunger in his heart and seemingly Thorin felt something similar as he too moved forward, meeting him in the middle. The warrior's hand came up threading it's way into his hair, encouraging Thranduil to bring his head towards him. The dwarf's sword loosen and fell away from his grip as their lips connected, a strangers tongue moistened his, causing him to open his mouth to him. The dwarf's tongue did not hesitate as it joined his. Much like the dwarvern language, Oakenshield's tongue was ruff against his softer, gentler one. Sending welcomed shiver down his spine at the sensation.

When Gandalf finally made his return to the camp, the fire had died out and they were all in bed. Looking around the camp, he spotted that the elven king had returned and could not help but chuckle at the site. As Thorin had wrapped his arms protectively around Thranduil, a warming smile playing at their slightly moistened lips. Shaking his head, he sat down taking up the position as watchman for the rest of the night for tomorrow, he knew their would be much to talk about and maybe the elven lord's vision had not been as misplaced as he had first suspected but all of that could wait until the morning when they were set to reach The Hidden Valley.