Chapter Text
"What... does it feel like to have a beard?"
It took Bard a moment to process the words. When Thranduil had expressed his wish to ask him a private question, he had not expected anything like this.
The two of them were alone in the elf king's tent. After they had spoken to Gandalf and Bilbo, Bard had stayed with Thranduil. After a while someone had closed to sides of the tent, leaving the two of them in privacy. And at that point the conversation had shifted towards personal topics.
Bard absentmindedly touched his own face, checking whether he had kept his beard in good enough condition lately to even be presentable. While Bard thought about it, Thranduil's eyes tracked the movement of his fingers.
"It can be a little... itchy. Sometimes. And... it can be annoying to regularly tend to it. It keeps my face warm though.", Bard struggled to describe.
"And you... trim it? Would it grow as long as a dwarf's beard if you didn't trim it?", Thranduil asked, stepping a bit closer.
"I do trim it though I doubt it would get quite as long. But it is not only to keep the length, I also trim it for shape.", Bard explained, gesturing towards his moustache, his goatee, the relatively free areas on his cheeks, "I feel the most comfortable with this, instead of with my beard covering all of my face."
Thranduil took another step closer and Bard dared to do the same. However surprising it was, he was delighted by the elf's curiosity. With one simple question the atmosphere had changed. Forgotten were all troubles and hardships, forgotten the world outside of the tent. There were only Thranduil and Bard. And a sense of comfort that Bard gladly chased.
"You may touch it if you want.", he said.
Thranduil's gaze snapped up from his beard to his eyes in surprise.
"Touch... it? Your beard?", he repeated in a tone of disbelief that Bard had never heard in his voice before. Though he certainly did not seem repulsed by the idea.
"Yes, if you want to.", Bard confirmed, again stepping closer.
Since they had met, the distance between them had never been smaller than now. And Thranduil bridged the last bit of it. His movement was hesitant but he did reach out and ever so carefully his fingertips made contact with Bard's chin. Bard eagerly watched Thranduil's expression as he ran his fingers along his jawline slowly.
"It is... coarse.", Thranduil remarked quietly.
Bard couldn't help but crack a smile. He tilted his head a bit sideways to give him better access.
"It is. My hair is softer though."
"May I..."
"Yes."
With much less hesitation Thranduil let his other hand glide into Bard's hair, brushing the strands through his fingers. Something like a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Softer indeed, though not quite soft. And so dark in colour.", he pointed out.
He kept one hand at the back of Bard's head and focused his attention back on the other one, exploring more of Bard's face.
The soft touch affected Bard more than he would have imagined. He had to keep himself from making a sound as Thranduil's hand cupped his cheek. His breath hitched when Thranduil's fingers, ran over his sideburn, traced along his cheekbone then towards his mouth, tracing along the edges of his moustache and goatee, exploring the border between beard and lips. In his chest his heart was thundering. And a warmth flooded his body that nearly had his knees buckle. Had he ever before felt such bliss? He couldn't remember. It didn't matter.
"Your hands are warm.", he muttured against Thranduil's fingertips, his voice rough even in his own ears. He almost purred. When had the conversation shifted to lowered voices? It didn't matter either. He could just melt under the elf's touch, his eyelids fluttering shut.
Noone and nothing had ever inspired such awe in Bard as Thranduil. He had developed respect for him long before ever meeting him and he was not at all surprised to find the elf king to be the most beautiful being he had ever seen. The grace, the power, the regality, the strentgh... How much of it radiated from Thranduil... None of it surprised Bard. But he had not expected for himself to have the reaction to the king that he did. How could he have? He didn't understand it now that he felt it either.
And who could blame him, really, he had a lot on his plate as it was. His whole life had changed, the most traumatic event of his life had just taken place, he still had the safety of his children and his people to worry about. He did not have one bit of energy left to ponder over and figure out how he felt about Thranduil and why he had to fight the urge to bury his face in his neck and the urge to kneel before him and kiss his hand at the same time. He had too much troubles to do more than try to ignore the budding affection. Until now.
When Bard opened his eyes a bit, Thranduil stood so close to him nothing would have fit in between them. He leaned down a bit, his face mere centimeters from Bard's. His scent of forest, of trees and herbs filled Bard's nose. His expression had softened more than he had even considered possible on that serious face. It certainly did suit him.
"May I...", Thranduil began asking.
"Yes."
"You didn't hear my question yet."
"Anything you want."
Thranduil slightly smiled at the breathless answer. It was too sweet of an expression to let Bard be embarrassed about his own eagerness. Thranduil's hands moved to cup his face in both. His thumbs brushed over the corners of Bard's mouth.
"I want to know... Does your beard get in the way when you... when you want to kiss someone?", Thranduil asked.
For a second Bard was sure he would just faint. It was all too overwhelming. As if Thranduil touching him so gently wasn't blissful beyond words enough, now, in a moment when the two were so close, the idea of kissing coming up... The only thing more unbelievable than Thranduil doing and saying such things, was that Bard managed to gather some boldness for his answer.
"You are more than welcome to find out for yourself."
As he said that, he placed his hands on Thranduil's wrists. He meant to place a kiss into each of Thranduil's palms. To keep eyecontact while doing so. To show him his devotion as tenderly as he could.
"You mean it?", Thranduil asked and this time his voice was a bit breathless.
"I do.", Bard confirmed.
As soon as he muttured these words, Thranduil leaned down, bridging the last bit of distance. He kissed Bard right on the mouth, lips connecting with lips in a heartwreckingly gentle touch.
Time seemed to stand still. Bard's mind stilled. Every fiber of his being focused on Thranduil's mouth caressing his own. His knees nearly gave in.
Thranduil's eyes slowly closed. He let go of all tension as he let his body mold into Bard's. Chest pressed flush against chest. Before he knew it, Bard wrapped his arms around Thranduil's waist. His hands splayed across Thranduil's back under his robe, pressing into his silken garments to get more of his warmth, of the proximity. He wanted, no, he needed to feel him. As much of him as possible. All of him at once. To touch him. To be touched by him. He needed it like he needed air.
Slowly, very slowly, the kiss became more heated. A gentle lick against Thranduil's bottomlip earned Bard a sensual moan from the elf. He opened his mouth enough to let Bard's tongue in and Bard was eager to explore it. Thranduil was warm, entrancingly warm. His whole body was radiating warmth. Bard was all too familiar with cold. The waters of the lake were freezing, the air above the surface barely any less biting. He craved warmth desperatly. Warmth meant comfort. Warmth meant safety. When Thranduil's tongue met his, he forgot what cold felt like. Another moan vibrated in his mouth. Between tongues, lips and teeth, they found an unexpected harmony, moving in a rythm so matching as if they had practiced. Thranduil tasted of wine. Sweet, delicious wine, finer than anything Bard had ever savored.
It felt like an eternity until Thranduil broke the kiss to catch his breath. Still he was just as eager to stay intimate as Bard. He immediatly started mouthing along Bard's jaw, exploring his beard with his lips as he had done earlier with his fingers. His hot breath fanned over Bard's skin, each breath just as quick and laboured as Bard's.
As he leaned his head from side to side to give Thranduil all access to his face, Bard caught a glimpse of his throat. That most beckoning part of Thranduil's body, right on level with Bard's eyes. Just within reach. It had been calling for him to press his face into it from the very beginning and now finally he had the opportunity. Without hesitation Bard gave in to his need.
Thranduil gasped as he felt Bard's lip at his neck. He tilted back his head, exposing it to Bard, letting him shower him in affection. Bard nuzzled and kissed up and down Thranduil's neck from the edge of his jaw all the way to his collarbone. It was every bit the paradise he had imagined and more.
Too drunk on Thranduil to think at all, Bard pulled and tugged aside any fabric in his way. He would feel bad about ripping the fine cloth later. Right now there was only Thranduil's smooth skin under his lips, Thranduil's hands sliding into his hair, gripping it, pulling him impossibly closer. Bard took his time licking along his throat and the sensation made Thranduil shudder. He bit the base of Thranduil's neck and was rewarded with the loudest moan yet and slender fingers clenching in his hair.
Somehow Bard managed to open Thranduil's garments and expose the front of his torso. What a feast! Not just for the eyes. Bard took his sweet time dragging open-mouthed kisses across the vast expanse of Thranduil's chest. Meanwhile his hands wandered under the fabric to the bare skin of his back. He traced along the muscles, kneaded them, reveled in the direct contact. Touching Thranduil was definitly addictive.
Slowly Bard sank downwards, allowing his knees to finally give in. He traced Thranduil's abs with his tongue. To worship Thranduil's body enough was an impossible task but Bard was willing to try anyway. He marveled at every line and curve, every solid muscle, every scar, each and every last bit of him. To kiss him enough was impossible indeed. To spend enough time kneeling before him and burying his face into his sixpack like this was utterly impossible.
Bard began opening the laces of Thranduil's trousers, trailing his kisses down the inviting V shape of Thranduil's pelvic, when suddenly he was brought to a halt. Thranduil's fingers tightened almost painfully in his hair and he pulled his head back by it in a strong though still gentle move that made Bard a little dizzy with what it made him feel. Even dizzier he got when he looked up at Thranduil who gazed at him through the curtain of his lucious blond mane, his eyes half-lidded with lust, lips still wet from Bard's kisses.
"Don't. ... I would spend immediatly... I want to savor this longer... Savor you...", Thranduil panted.
His grip eased and he let Bard's hair slide out of his hands. Bard's hairband, which evidently Thranduil's fingers had worked loose without Bard even noticing, fell to the ground.
"Lie down", Thranduil added.
Bard gracelessly dropped backwards and hit the ground a bit too hard for comfort. In the mere moment it took him to obey the request, Thranduil kicked off his boots, let his trousers slide off him and stepped out of them. Bard barely caught a glimpse of his naked glory, before Thranduil already sat astride on his lap, pressing down on Bard's rock hard erection. His tighs caged Bard's hips, his bent knees steading him on the ground. His long flowing robe spread around them, shielding them from the cool air.
While Thranduil unlaced and unbuttoned the layers of Bard's upper garments, Bard could only lie there, gripping Thranduil's waist like his life depended on it as he drank in the divine sight above him. Thranduil was flushed and panting. His hair, usually so controlled and in place, was now a majestic mess of silvergolden silk, a wild halo around his gorgeous face. Where Bard had bitten him, the teeth marks were clearly visible at the base of his neck. He had kissmarks all over his neck and torso. Bard's saliva on his skin shimmered in the light of the torches. He licked his lips when he finally revealed Bard's bare skin. By the sides of his coat Thranduil pulled Bard up into a sitting position and immediatly brushed all layers off of his torso, Bard helping him, until he was half nude.
For a moment the passion lost its urgency. Thranduil let his gaze wander with just as much care as Bard just had. His fingers wandered over Bard's skin, along his arms, traced along his collar bone and down his chest, his abs, much like the path Bard's mouth had taken on him. His eyes followed, taking in every little detail about the man. For the first in a long time Bard wondered about his appearance. Normally it wasn't necessary to look good. He didn't neglect himself but he didn't put effort into it either. But how would he look in Thranduil's eyes? Would this elven king in his fierce beauty be satisfied with a rugged bargeman like him? What was he thinking as he traced each scar and bruise he found on Bard's body with gentle fingertips?
Finally Thranduil's eyes set back on his. There was no less want in them than a moment ago. In fact his gaze seemed even more veiled with desire.
"Thranduil", Bard whispered. He let each syllable, each sound, roll out on his tongue, saying that name as if it was a prayer.
Again Thranduil pressed his lips to Bard's in a most tender kiss. A kiss so sweet, so intimate, Bard nearly cried. His heart was overflowing with joy and yearning. He couldn't take more and yet it was never enough. The kiss lingered until he couldn't breath anymore.
Just before he could burst with feelings, Thranduil let go of him and licked his own hand from the heel of his palm up to his fingertips. Then he sank it in between them and slid it into Bard's breeches. Even biting his lip as hard as he could, Bard couldn't help a deep moan as he felt Thranduil's fingers wrap around his cock. For a split second he blacked out. He came back to his senses just in time to feel himself drop back down onto the ground. Only vaguely did he realize he must have spent at the first touch but to his relief, he was still just as hard as before. Thranduil rubbed spit and seed up and down his shaft, coating him with generous strokes.
Finally the moment was there. Bard planted his feet on the ground in an attempt to steady himself. His hands found Thranduil's hips, either to hold onto him or to pull him closer, Bard wasn't sure. He was still dizzy from his first orgasm. For a moment cool air hit Bard's cock as Thranduil freed it from his breeches but then he sank down on it and Bard had to pull himself together to not come again immediatly.
His fingertips digged into Thranduil's flesh, his heels into the ground. His eyes rolled back and he shut them to dim the overwhelming sensations. It was of little use. Thranduil moved at a torturingly slow pace, down and further downwards, so close, so deeply entwined with him. When he had fully sheathed Bard, he paused, adjusting, letting Bard catch air.
Bard opened his eyes when he felt one of Thranduil's hands on his own. With the other Thranduil steadied himself on Bard's chest. There was a hint of concern in his gaze as he studied Bard's expression. And a softness. A smile tugged at Bard's mouth.
"Thranduil", he purred and the slightest hint of a smile reflected in Thranduil's gorgeous features.
"Bard", he whispered. It was the first time Bard could recall him saying his name. Spoken by his voice, it sounded beautiful.
Slowly Bard began to roll his hips. He started at a sensual pace to find a shared rythm. The same harmony that they had earlier found in kisses worked its magic on this bigger scale. It took but a moment until they moved in perfect tandem. Thranduil placed both hands on Bard's chest, slightly squeezing his pecs.
Gradually thrusts became harder, faster. Thranduil rode Bard with a passion that was not without tenderness but intense. Soon Bard could not do anything other than cling onto Thranduil's hips and buck his own ones upwards to meet his movement. Together they found just the right angle to make Thranduil lose all composure. All hints of sternness were gone from his face, making way for an uncontrolled expression of pure bliss. He was just as lost in the intimate act as Bard felt. When his fingernails scratched red lines across Bard's chest, he didn't even notice it.
There could have been a fire outside of the tent and they wouldn't have noticed. They were entirely absorbed in each other. All Bard knew were his instincts, all on his mind Thranduil's body on and around his own, the overwhelming need for him. Everything melted together. Thranduil's low moans and heavy breaths were a siren song in his ears. Calling him. Urging him on. Thranduil's body felt hot as a hearth to the touch. Until now Bard hadn't known that it was possible to feel at home under someone's touch and mad with lust for them at the same time. His strong grip on Thranduil's hips left marks while Thranduil's fingers raked down his chest. Meanwhile his lips muttured Thranduil's name with delight and devotion just as Thranduil quietly repeated Bard's name over and over, each letter of it, each sound, rolling on his tongue like a caress.
In one swift motion Bard sat up, wrapped one arm around Thranduil's waist, the other hand staying where it was. He simply had to kiss him more. It ended up being more lips brushing against lips as the fast pace didn't allow for more coordination but it was the impossibly close proximity he needed. And it paired so well with the sensation of Thranduil's hand gripping his hair as tight as if it was a lifeline. His other hand wrapped around Bard's shoulders, scratching along his back as he rode him with increasing urgency.
At last they reached the peak of passion. Thranduil threw back his head, his hair dancing through the air in a shimmering wave as it fell back. He let out a strange but alluring sound, louder than any he had moaned yet, vaguely resembling Bard's name. At the same time Bard leaned forward and bit him hard in the neck. He pressed his hips as hard up into Thranduil as he could while he came in him just at the same moment Thranduil came. Bard clung to him as wave after wave of pure rapture shook him. His whole body flooded with joy so intense, he could hardly bear it. It was overwhelming. So much so, Bard blacked out.
He vaguely realized that he dropped back to the floor once more and that this time Thranduil followed to lie on top of him. His weight grounded him nicely. Naked chest against chest, Bard could feel Thranduil's heart thundering as fast as his own. Silken hair spilled down over Thranduil's shoulders brushing over Bard's face in a featherlight caress. Bard closed his eyes. He inhaled the scent of forest as deeply as he could. The sounds of Thranduil's fast breathing and the faint crackling of torches soothed him. Before he knew he dozed off.
How long he was unconcious Bard didn't know. Maybe minutes, maybe hours. When he came to, he was still lying on the floor but his breeches were laced up as before and some soft folded cloth under his head served as a pillow. Thranduil lounged on top of him, still only dressed in his robe though he had closed the lower part of it to not be fully exposed.
For a while Bard just studied Thranduil's features up close. He tried his best to commit each and every little detail of his gorgeous face to his memory but especially that expression of calm and serenity that he had never yet seen on him and that he was sure Thranduil barely ever showed. If at all.
Meanwhile Thranduil was busy with Bard's hair. He carefully braided a strand of it, too immersed in this simple task to notice the gaze on him until he had finished and secured the braid. When his eyes found Bard's a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He braced himself on one arm on the ground next to Bard's head. With the other hand he gently traced Bard's face as he had done before. Desire was satisfied for the time being. All that remained was tenderness. Bard let his hands wander up Thranduil's arms, across his shoulders and up into his hair. The sheer softness of it let silk pale in comparison as it ran through his fingers.
"You are beautiful.", Bard whispered.
For a splitsecond Thranduil looked surprised before his smile widened. He leaned down to press a sweet kiss to Bard's mouth. Again their lips and tongues interlocked but this time without a hint of hurry. Pure affection. Pure happiness. How long had it been since the last time Bard had felt so light and at ease? So serene. He memorised Thranduil's mouth, explored every bit of it. A gentle, slightly playful bite to Thranduil's bottomlip made him smile again. How addicting to see him smile... To be the cause of that smile...
As Thranduil's fingers ran along his sideburn, Bard remembered what had even started this. He couldn't help a chuckle that made Thranduil pause the kiss and give him a inquisitive look.
"Well, what do you think? Does my beard get in the way of kissing?", Bard asked.
The amused sound that escaped Thranduil's throat was barely enough to be called a laugh but it made Bard beam. A hint of mirth glittered in Thranduil's eyes as he pointedly let his gaze wander over Bard's beard.
His fingertips traced Bard's goatee as he answered: "I have not come to a conclusive answer on that question. This topic will need further research."
Bard gently pulled his head down while simultaneously straining his own neck to meet him halfway in another kiss. And another and another.
They lay there for an eternity and yet not long enough by the time Bard slowly remembered the world outside the tent. He heard several pairs of boots marching by. They belonged to elven warriors patroling or changing guards or both. Against his will Bard jerked upwards.
"How late is it? How much time has passed?", he blurted out.
The bliss dulled as he recalled the situation they were still facing. His people huddled around campfires in the ruins of Dale, the dwarves in the mountain closed off while Thorin didn't act like himself, Gandalf's warning, the desperate hobbit who had brought them the Arkenstone which still lay on Thranduil's desk just a few steps beside them... His children! It all came storming back in, dragging his mind from the sanctuary he had found in Thranduil's touch.
"I have to check on my children. They must be worried about me. Worried about everything. I mustn't leave them alone.", he thought aloud, scrambling to get his clothes back on.
Thranduil was reluctant to roll off of him but he did, standing up in one smooth motion. It broke Bard's heart to see the joy in his features completely vanish and make way for the serious expression he usually bore.
"I don't want to leave you. I really don't. If I could I would stay, I swear I would.", Bard told him, unable to keep desperation out of his tone as he pushed himself up to stand beside him.
"I don't want you to leave either. But I understand it too well. If it was my son waiting and worrying for me, I would need to leave your tent too. Very reluctantly so, but alas...", Thranduil soothed him.
While he spoke he brushed Bard's hair back and secured part of it with the hairband, thus restoring the hairstyle he himself had undone earlier. The little braid he had made vanished among the dark strands. Bard took the opportunity to press his face against Thranduil'ss throat one last time while the elf ran his hands over his hair, the motion more an affectionate gesture than a successful attempt at smoothing out the mess he himself had made of Bard's hair.
Bard tried to soak in the sensation of Thranduil's hands on him as long as he could.
"Thank you.", he murmured. But Thranduil shrugged his gratitude off.
"It would be unlike you to neglect your children. And besides, such would be an act I would resent.", Thranduil protested as he walked around the tent, gathering a few things as he spoke, "Therefore I shall appreciate being left alone reluctantly by you. I would have it thousand times rather this way than have someone else stay with me."
He grabbed a large silver cloak and draped it around Bard's shoulder. Then he handed him a small bag with what looked like thin elven bread, wrapped up along with other supplies.
"You are only leaving my tent for the night. Not me and not permanently. That I can bear. I trust you, Bard. So do not look at me like a beaten puppy.", Thranduil added and kissed him once more.
Despite all understanding he held and kissed Bard for a long time before he finally sent him out of the tent. He mapped out and memorised Bard's mouth with a focus that betrayed the calm tone in his voice. Still he stayed true to his words.
At the tent's exit Bard looked back to him one last time for the night, lingered just one moment longer. A smile tugged at Thranduil's mouth as he received a most yearning look from him. Bard returned it, then he finally forced himself to step outside.
As the tent closed behind him, a gust of cold wind hit him right in the face, letting him feel physically what he felt emotionally. To leave was torture. He stumbled forward more than he actually walked. The night was dark and icy. He came past men and elves gathered around fires, past remains of stone walls, patches of snow... It all seemed surreal. He could still feel the tingling sensation where Thranduil had scratched him.
Some confused part of him wondered whether everyone he walked by could see on him that he had bedded the elf king. Or, more importantly, that it seemingly wouldn't be the last time. That there were feelings involved! A slightly more reasonable part of him wondered, whether anyone had heard their moans coming from the tent. Hopefully not. It was all confusing enough as it was. Just few days ago life had been so normal and look at it now. Bard was certainly confused.
But Thranduil's cloak kept him warm as he made his way further into Dale and towards his children.