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Sinking Ships

Summary:

Before the fall of Erebor, Thorin and Thranduil were in love. After 20 years, Thorin wants Thranduil to marry him.

Notes:

Thank you again to Tori (@gamgeez on Twitter) for your help with this. You always make what I write so much better.

Thank you to Irene (@renfixo on Twitter) for reading this and encouraging me to finish it. Your support means everything.

Work Text:

Thorin stared at himself in the mirror and admired the dwarf looking back. He kept turning left and right, looking at how the too-large robe caught the light. He was wearing one of Thranduil’s robes—he took it out of the king’s chambers that morning—and he looked downright kingly. A smug smile graced his face and he ran his hands over the delicate silk. The material was soft, and the color was like that of the morning sun. The thread was gold and Thorin wondered if the actual metal was sewn into the fabric.

Thranduil would be very upset if he found out Thorin took it. Thorin having the robe would be proof that he was in Thranduil’s room, which would then give away their little affair. The elves in Mirkwood didn’t know the truth as to why Prince Thorin of Erebor and his siblings started to spend so much time in the elven kingdom. Officially, he was there as an advisor to the king, sent by Thror himself. Unofficially, Thorin was there to be courted by the king.

Thorin fell in love with the elven king nearly 20 years prior when he had first come to Erebor. Immediately struck by his beauty, Thorin followed the king around, offering to be of any assistance. He expected to be sent away immediately, but to his surprise, Thranduil said he didn’t mind the company. It wasn’t long after that Thorin found himself being kissed by the elven king, and he surprised himself even more by not pulling away, but instead melting into it.

So now here he was in Mirkwood, staring at himself in royal robes, and deciding on his future. He turned to Frerin and Dis who were sitting on the bed, exchanging giggles and glances at their head-over-heels-in-love brother.

“I have decided I want Thranduil to marry me.”

Frerin barked out a loud laugh, “Thorin my dear brother you have gone mad! Do you really think Thranduil would marry you? Need I remind you you haven’t even met his son?”

Thorin’s soft smile was transformed into a glare.

“He has his reasons. Legolas is busy. And besides, I’d be marrying Thranduil, not his son. Us meeting is hardly relevant.”

“Brother, I think you and Thranduil would make just the perfect pair!” Dis’ voice was full of excitement. She was almost as enchanted by the elven king as Thorin was.

“Thank you, Dis. At least one of you sees reason.” Thorin couldn’t help but shoot Frerin another nasty look.

Frerin, in response, stuck his tongue out at Thorin.

“I want to be the king’s consort and rule by his side. I love him so much,” Thorin turned back to the mirror and pulled the fabric tight against his chest.
“He says he loves me, so why wouldn’t he want to marry me? I am a prince, after all.”

He tried not to think of the thousands of years between them, and instead thought of how wonderful the king’s lips felt against his own.

“And how do you plan to explain this to father and grandfather? They will not be happy about this in the slightest,” Frerin began, his eyebrows furrowed as he continued, “besides, you are heir to the throne. You cannot just leave because an elf king says nice things.”

Thorin felt anger flare in him, but he tried to push it down. Why couldn’t Frerin be happy for him for once?

“Frerin, I hear you... I do,” The dwarf prince began, turning to face his brother, eyebrow raised, “but you are just as capable of ruling Erebor as I am. I can see it now little brother, me ruling at Thranduil’s side as you sit on Erebor’s throne. And Dis, I expect you to live here with me.”

That earned Thorin a giggle from the youngest dwarf.

“Of course king’s consort Thorin. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else!”

Thorin smiled at her but still noticed Frerin’s eye roll.

“These are all fantastic fantasies but that’s all they are. Don’t come crying to me when Thranduil breaks your heart.”

Later that evening, Thorin had joined Thranduil in his private dining halls like he did most nights. Frerin and Dis always complained and said it wasn’t fair but Thorin told them to bugger off and find something else to do. He enjoyed his alone time with the king. When it was just the two of them they didn’t have to hide, and Thorin loved how open the elven king was with his affections. This was the night though. Thorin finally gathered the courage to tell Thranduil what he wants from this. Marriage. A future. Thorin wanted to call him his husband and not have to hide his feelings. He hoped Thranduil felt the same way.

“My king, my love,” Thorin reached out to grab Thranduil’s hand, “I have given you twenty years of my life. I have loved you since the second I laid eyes on you.”

“And I have loved you just as much, meleth nin.” Thranduil intertwined their fingers and gave the dwarf’s hand a squeeze.

Thorin’s heart began to race as he started speaking,“Please don’t take this the wrong way, amrâlimê... but I cannot help but wish for more. I am tired of hiding,” he started, looking up to meet his gaze. “I want to be yours fully and completely. I wish you would ask me to marry you. I would say yes, and I’d write to my father and grandfather. They wouldn’t be happy, of course, but there would be nothing they could do…” He smiled softly, taking a moment to gently squeeze his hand. “We could be happy. I would make the best husband, I promise. Please say you’ll have me.”

The expression on the elven king’s face had dropped, and he let go of Thorin’s hand, reaching instead for his wine glass. He didn’t speak, and Thorin felt his heart race even more. Did he say something wrong? Did Thranduil not want the same thing?

“Thorin,” he said at last, “This is a conversation I knew we needed to have, I just hoped we could put it off…” he said with a soft sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “There is no way for me to tell you this without becoming upset, but I am afraid we cannot marry.”

This couldn’t be happening. Surely Thranduil was just joking… Thorin felt his heart shatter.

“What? Why? I don’t understand!”

“In the eyes of the Valar, I am still married to my wife even if she has long passed. Elves can only be married once, so, therefore, I cannot marry you... I am sorry, Thorin,” he replied, his voice soft as he set his glass down and met the dwarf’s tearful gaze. “If you desire, we can call each other husband and tell everyone of our love. But, I am afraid that is all I can offer you.”

“That’s all you can offer me?” Thorin stood up from his chair and slammed his fists on the table, with tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “That’s not enough! I can’t believe you never told me!”

Thranduil’s expression turned pained as he moved to face him.

“Thorin, my sweet prince, I didn’t tell you because I knew this was how you’d react. The last thing I wanted was to sour our visits.”

“And what did you think? That I’d be okay with this arrangement my whole life? It’s not going to work for me.”

“Thorin—”

He was quick to interrupt Thranduil, “How could I be so blind? I was nothing more than a body to keep you warm at night! And I let you use me…” his voice cracked with the last sentence, and he wiped at his eyes quickly.

“I really thought… I am a fool for thinking I could be with an elf,” he said with a chuckle of disbelief.

Thorin got up and stormed out, trying to ignore Thranduil’s pleas for him to come back.

Before Thorin went back to his guest room, he went to Frerin’s room and pounded on the door, “Frerin. Pack your things. We are to leave at once.”

Frerin came to the door and stared at his big brother in front of him, curious.

“What, why? Did something happen?”

Thorin couldn’t help but frown. “It seems you were right. I should’ve listened to you.”

The look on Frerin’s face was unreadable but he reached out and grabbed Thorin’s shoulder.

“I didn’t want this to happen. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies. I just wish to leave. I’m going to tell Dis.”

After telling Dis to pack, Thorin was back in his rooms, gathering his things. On his bed was the robe he had stolen from Thranduil’s chambers. He wanted to laugh. The robe now served as a reminder of a life he’d never live and an elf who didn’t want him. He grabbed it anyway and stuffed it into his pack. It would serve as a reminder to never let himself be foolish again.

At the gates of Mirkwood, Thorin was standing with the ponies, waiting for his siblings to show. He was starting to feel anxious. What if Thranduil decided to show? There was nothing Thranduil could say to fix this situation, but a part of him did hope he would see the elven king…

Frerin and Dis finally showed up and Thorin let out a sigh of relief.

“Good. Let’s go home.”

Frerin stayed silent as Dis walked up to Thorin and hugged him, “Are you sure? Marriage isn’t everything, Thorin. You’re walking away from a lot.”

She was right, but it wasn’t just marriage that was the problem. It was the whole arrangement—The secrets, the lies, the half-truths. It wasn’t just marriage, it was their whole relationship being a sinking ship, and Thorin being too blind to notice.

“This is for the best,” he replied, pressing his forehead against Dis’. She was always such a comforting presence, and he felt so lucky to have her in his life. “We must go. I’m sure father and grandfather will be surprised at our early return.”

They mounted their ponies and rode off. And even though he promised he wouldn’t look back, Thorin couldn’t stop himself from turning his head and having one last glance.

There was a figure at the gates, staring, watching. It was Thranduil watching Thorin leave his halls forever. Thorin glanced away, and let his pony take him farther and farther, never to go back.