You're Like Spring Turned into Winter

Summary: Thranduil helps Bard tend to his wounds the old fashioned way after the battle, and Bard falls a little bit in love with the Elvenking. Barduil.

-x-

#2.

Bard could feel his heart hammer in his chest, his eyes still closed as he and Thranduil shared breath in their closeness. The King of the Woodland Realm wanted him. A lowly bargeman turned reluctant king. Thranduil wanted him to kiss him and touch him; bed him. Surely he had to be dreaming. The elf's breath on his face was warm and inviting, Bard's own breath suddenly catching in his throat as he took the plunge and tilted his head to capture the Elvenking's lips in his own. His rough hands came up to the elf's cheeks, cupping his face gently as he kissed him softly, Thranduil's lips moving under his own, kissing him back feverously. Thranduil seemed to sag against him, clinging to the man's tunic, the bowman's hands moving from soft skin to inside his robes, settling on his hips. Their desire for each other bubbled to the surface, passion flowing into the kiss. Bard moved closer, Thranduil backing up until his legs hit the edge of the desk behind him. Thranduil put a hand to Bard's chest, pushing back from the kiss, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, slightly breathless.

"I desire you greatly, King of Dale, but I draw the line at you bending me over this desk like some harlot," he said and Bard bit his lip to keep from laughing. He leaned in to the elf, capturing his lips once more and biting down gently on his bottom lip, dragging his teeth along the softness of it before pulling back slowly.

"Pity ..." Bard said, licking his own lips. "I have a feeling that you would look simply exquisite bent over my desk." Thranduil narrowed his eyes before Bard laced their fingers together and pulled at him gently. "Somewhere more comfortable then?" He led Thranduil through the door at the other side of his office which led to Bard's private chambers. It wasn't quite a chamber fit for a king, but Bard liked the simple things and it would do. Thranduil was pulled inside and the door was pushed closed before the elf was on him again, their lips meeting again. They kissed like they were starved of each other; their hands grasped at one another like one would slip away from the other at any moment. Thranduil shrugged off his outer robe, letting the expanse of expensive looking fabric puddle at his feet before he was walking Bard back towards the bed. The bowman plucked the crown from Thranduil's head, putting it down on the table next to the bed before he ran his fingers through the long blonde tresses, feeling them silky smooth in his hands. Thranduil took off Bard's crown, putting it with his own before his hands were on the king's tunic, pulling at laces and buttons until it fell away from his body, leaving Bard in a thin white shirt that was almost see-through. Bard bit his lip as the elf's eyes roamed over his figure, gripping the hem of his shirt and lifting the flimsy material up over his head. Thranduil's eyes widened only slightly, taking it Bard's naked torso. It was definitely something to look at; muscle in all the right places, skin golden with a few silver scars littering his body, some faint and some not so much, a dark trail of hair travelling from his navel down underneath his clothing. He was absolutely exquisite.

"Lie down," Thranduil whispered and Bard sat down on the bed before he lay back, feeling slightly heated under the Elvenking's gaze. Thranduil knelt down to pull Bard's boots off, his own joining them before he crawled on top of the bowman. Lips found lips again, tasting Bard's sweetness before he kissed down his jaw and further down to his throat, nipping firmly, leaving little red marks all the way down. "Mmm, Dragonslayer. You taste divine." He all but growled those words in that deep voice of his. Bard felt his breath catch once more as Thranduil's lips moved lower over his collarbone and down his chest, circling a dusky pink nipple with his tongue before taking it in his mouth and sucking hard. He grabbed a fistful of Thranduil's hair suddenly, groaning gently, but that didn't faze the elf. He carried on his ministrations, biting on Bard's nipple before soothing it with his tongue and moving to the other one, repeating his actions. Bard pushed Thranduil back and sat up quickly, taking the elf's face in his hands and claiming those lips once more. Thranduil kissed Bard hard, like he would slip from his arms any moment and the feel of the bargeman's tongue against his own was positively sinful.

"I want ... want ..." Bard breathed between kisses. "Thranduil ... I want to touch you. Please let me touch you." His fingers pulled at the elf's robes, making Thranduil smirk before he climbed off his lover.

"As my king commands," he said, standing to full height. He took his time unfastening his robe, watching the lust dance in Bard's eyes, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. He made a show of it, slowly dropping the robe to reveal another layer, which had Bard groaning in annoyance, making Thranduil chuckle. "Patience is a virtue, bowman." Bard raised an eyebrow.

"Can you blame me for being impatient? Have you seen you?" he asked and he was sure the tips of Thranduil's ears turned a darker shade of pink. He kept stripping, two more layers coming off before his smooth, hairless chest came into view. The elf was flawless; beautiful in every way. His skin was pale yet free of blemishes and flaws. Perfection in Bard's eyes.

"You are staring," Thranduil's voice pulled him out of his daze, making him look up at the elf.

"Forgive me, it's just ... Thranduil, you're beautiful," he said and he was sure Thranduil's cheeks were stained with pink now, not just his ears.

"You are pleasing on the eye yourself, Dragonslayer," he said and Bard shook his head, lifting Thranduil's hand and placing a kiss to his knuckles.

"Tonight we are who we are. Not kings, not dragon slayers. Tonight, I would be just Bard and you just Thranduil," he said. "Please. I just want you. I have since I met you." Thranduil's face broke out in a genuine happy smile.

"Then I am yours, meleth nín. My body is yours. Do as you will," Thranduil said and Bard slid off the bed and to his knees in front of Thranduil, his forehead pressing against the elf's flat belly, nuzzling the prominent bulge in Thranduil's leggings. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down, exposing the elf to him, before dragging them right down his long legs. Thranduil stepped out of them and they were tossed to the side and before he knew it, his cock was halfway down Bard's throat. The heat from his mouth was unbelievable, making Thranduil tip his head back, his mouth falling open at the touch. His hand found Bard's head, grabbing his hair none to gently. Bard's hands held him firmly by the hips as his mouth slid over the elf's length, taking in as much of him as he could without choking himself, tasting the little bead of liquid that had gathered on the end. If the mewls of pleasure coming from Thranduil were any indication, Bard knew he was doing something right. Thranduil looked down at Bard and their eyes met, unable to look away from each other, Thranduil's breath coming in harder pants the more Bard hollowed his cheeks and dragged his teeth along the sensitive length. Thranduil breathing became louder until it was actual moans coming from him, gripping Bard's hair just that little bit tighter before Bard pulled off completely.

"Bard ..." he said and Bard stood up, his hand in Thranduil's own as he pressed a kiss to his lips, startling the elf who could taste his own essence on Bard's tongue.

"I want to be inside you, Thranduil. It would be rude to finish you so quickly," he said. "We have got all night." Thranduil smiled and went about undoing Bard's trousers before pushing them down, the bowman's hard cock standing proudly to attention. Bard pulled him onto the bed, lying back on the many pillows, Thranduil moving to straddle his thighs. He reached to a small wooden box on the table, opening it and taking out a small, corked jar of oil, Thranduil raising a thick eyebrow at the action.

"Was I expected this evening that you are so prepared?" he said with amusement in his voice. Bard laughed.

"No, but it is good for, ah ... other things," he said. Thranduil chuckled before he leaned in once more, kissing Bard soundly before peppering kisses down his jaw and down to his shoulders as Bard uncorked the oil and slathered his fingers, reaching back to circle Thranduil's entrance. The elf bit at Bard's skin gently but really sank his teeth in and groaned when Bard's finger breached him. The bargeman gasped into Thranduil's shoulder at the shock of the bite, holding onto him as if his life depended on it as his finger explored, opening him up a little before adding another finger. Thranduil's groaning continued, a few uncomfortable moans in there too, but Bard continued, gasping when the elf took hold of him between their bodies, giving him a few languid strokes. Then a third finger was added and Thranduil's body went into a spasm as Bard hit that spot deep within him. He took the lobe of Thranduil's ear into his mouth, the elf panting into his shoulder.

"Bard, please ... I am ready, meleth nín," he breathed. Bard nodded and removed his fingers, Thranduil also releasing his hold on him, taking some of the oil and slathering it generously over Bard's hard cock. He pushed Bard back into the comfort of the pillows, the man lying back and relaxing, never taking his eyes off Thranduil. Then the oil was discarded (Bard was sure he heard the bottle smash as it was dropped to the floor) and Thranduil positioned himself above Bard with his hands flat on his chest to hold him up as he sank onto Bard's cock and they were finally one with each other. Elf and man joined together as one. Thranduil simply watched Bard from where he was seated in his lap, body tinged pink and breathing heavily. He was a vision; perfect, beautifully so. Bard couldn't look away, taking the elf's hand and lacing their fingers together over his heart, his other hand sliding round Thranduil's hip.

"You are beautiful," Bard said, echoing the same sentiments from earlier in the night, this time through ragged breath. Thranduil cupped the bowman's cheek, stroking it with his thumb gently as he began to rock back and forward on the bargeman's lap. Bard's own hips began to move, slowly raising them to meet Thranduil's downward movements. It was slow and sensual to begin with, Bard feeling every slide of his cock inside the elf, lighting a fire in his belly as hot as dragon fire. The elf's cheeks turned a darker shade the more he moved, Bard's eyes never leaving his face, his heart beating faster in his chest. Thranduil tilted his head back, looking towards the ceiling as he rocked harder in Bard's lap, Bard meeting his every movement. Thranduil made no sound apart from his heavy breathing and Bard vowed to change that. The Elvenking looked down at Bard once more, leaning down to kiss him, his chest pressed to Bard's, making it easier for Bard to speed up his thrusts, hitting that spot inside Thranduil once more that made him see stars. Thranduil cried out, a broken, animalistic sob but Bard considered it a victory. Thranduil sat up once more, hands on Bard's again to hold himself. The sweat built up on both their bodies, their movements stuttering as their moans and groans mingled. Bard felt himself near the edge, but the sight of Thranduil riding him like his life depended on it was a sight he could have watched forever. He didn't want it to end. He took Thranduil in hand, making the elf's rhythm stutter at the contact, stroking him hard and fast like their movements.

"Bard ... meleth nín, please, Bard," Thranduil moaned before he called out in some broken sounding elvish, coming hard over Bard's fingers and chest. Bard felt his own end near and he thrust up into the elf one more time and he was gone, his whole body twitching and writhing as he came down from his high. He was sure all of Dale had probably heard him cry out loudly as his orgasm came but he could not care. Thranduil pushed his sweat soaked hair back from his face before he fell down next to Bard on the bed. Both elf and man were silent for a few moments, only their ragged breath heard within the room. Bard reached down to the floor for his tunic, cleaning up his hand and chest before throwing it across the room again. Thranduil rolled onto his front, moving as close to Bard as he could, resting his chin on his arm that was across Bard's chest. The bowman ran his fingers through Thranduil's ever so slightly damp hair.

"My visit here was a success then?" Thranduil said with a smirk. Bard laughed out loud.

"I would say so," he said. "Whenever you are near makes me happy, Thranduil." The elf pressed a kiss to Bard's chest. "I missed you."

"And I you, Dragonslayer," he said softly, Bard just rolling his eyes at the title.

"I will need to thank my daughter for interfering, I suppose," he said, chuckling. Thranduil leaned in for a kiss, pressing his soft lips to the bowman's, tasting him once more before he pulled back.

"I think we should both thank her. I was beginning to wonder if I had offended you in some way that you did not write to me," the elf said. Bard smiled gently, running a hand through Thranduil's hair again.

"I wanted to write but I'm afraid words escaped me," he said before he yawned suddenly.

"Let us sleep, meleth nín. The children will no doubt be asking questions in the morning," Thranduil said. One more passionate kiss was pressed to Bard's lips before Thranduil wrapped himself comfortably around the bowman, who pulled the sheets up over their cooling bodies. Thranduil laid his head on Bard's chest, listening to his heard beat. "Melin le, my king. Sleep well." Bard smiled brightly into Thranduil's hair, taking a wild guess as to what those words meant.

"I love you too."

Thranduil smiled happily.

-x-

The morning came round quickly, the sun shining over a snow covered Dale and in through the window of the king's chambers. Its brightness woke Bard from his peaceful sleep, warm and contented beneath his sheets and beneath he elf king who was all but lying on him, his long pale leg wrapped around Bard's. His face was soft with sleep and his hair caught the sun's glow, making it shine. He truly was perfection. And he's mine, Bard thought to himself, running his fingers up and down Thranduil's spine, a soft moan coming from the Elvenking's lips.

"That feels wonderful," Thranduil's sleepy voice said, making Bard turn his head, slowing his strokes along the elf's back so it was no more than a ghost across his skin, tickling gently. Thranduil opened his eyes and looked up at Bard, sleepiness still evident in them. "Good morning, meleth nín." Bard tightened his grip on Thranduil, holding him close to his body.

"Good morning," Bard said back, his own voice hoarse from sleep. "It's not every morning I wake up to a good-looking elf in my bed." Thranduil chuckled.

"No," he said gently, rolling onto his front and moving close to Bard. "But I would hope I am the only elf in your bed though, yes?" His face looked serious yet his eyes danced with amusement. Bard smiled lovingly.

"That you are," he said and Thranduil kissed him, his hair falling around his face, blocking out the world around them for a moment. Bard cupped his face, rolling them over so that Thranduil was on his back, his arms snaking around Bard, nails biting into skin as he held him tightly. Bard's lips moved hungrily on the elf's, moving down his jaw to his neck as he settled himself between the elf's parted thighs, his hardening cock pressed against Thranduil's.

"A little early for recreational activities, no? You do have a city to rebuild," Thranduil panted into Bard's skin, nails scratching skin as Bard pushed his hips against Thranduil's.

"My kingly duties can wait a little longer," Bard said hoarsely, sucking his fingers before pushing them into Thranduil, who arched his back at the touch. The elf was still loose so Bard knew it would not hurt him. He scissored his fingers a few times, listening to the elf mutter in elvish and groan his name. Then his fingers were gone and his cock replaced them, thrusting into Thranduil hard until he was buried to the hilt. He took hold of Thranduil's hands and pressed them into the pillows above his head, his long, lean body stretched out for Bard.

"This is definitely a good morning," Thranduil said, locking his ankles at Bard's back. The bowman kissed Thranduil once more before moved inside him, the pace fast and hard, unlike their first time the night before. Thranduil moaned like a wanton harlot, his fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in Bard's hand's as the king of Dale held him down. "Bard ... meleth nín, touch me." Bard released his hands but Thranduil kept them gripping the pillows without being asked and Bard took the elf in his hand, pumping him to completion as he thrust hard to his own. Soon enough, Thranduil came hard, his face and chest flushed a dusky pink colour before Bard followed, biting down on Thranduil's lip and groaning loudly as his body sailed through the aftershock, all but collapsing on the Elvenking's chest. They lay in silence for a few moments before a knock on his bedroom door came.

"Yes?"

"I am to inform you there is a bath ready for you, my lords," Tauriel's voice said from the other side of the wood.

"Thank you, Tauriel," Bard called and turned to kiss his lover once more. "Bath?"

"That sounds wonderful."

-x-

If anyone had an opinion about the Elvenking leaving King Bard's chambers early that morning, they did not share it.

Bard stood on the edge of the city with Thranduil, who mounted his elk in preparation for returning to Mirkwood, Tauriel and his other guard behind him on horseback. Bard was sad to see him leave, if he was honest, but a king must do his duty and he knew he must rebuild Dale. His children joined him; little Tilda looking so sad that Thranduil was leaving.

"Must you go?" she asked, lip pouted. Thranduil nodded.

"I must pen-neth, but I shall send for you all soon. A grand feast shall be held in Mirkwood soon and I will write to you all to invite you. It would be a perfect time to talk ... business, wouldn't it, my king?" Thranduil asked, looking Bard dead in the eye, his own twinkling mischievously. Tauriel hid a snigger behind her hand.

"Indeed," Bard said. "I suppose it is goodbye ... for now?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so, meleth nín. Do feel free to write. I shall do the same," Thranduil said. Bard stepped closer to the elk, reaching to take Thranduil's hand. The elf let him before he was pulled down for a kiss, not caring what company they were in. He couldn't let him go without knowing how he felt. Thranduil kissed back hungrily but when he remembered the children there, he pulled back. Tilda looked fit to burst and Sigrid was smiling happily; Bain just looked in the other direction but with a smile on his face. Thranduil smiled at Bard.

"I love you," the bowman whispered.

"And I you ..." Thranduil said back before he placed one more kiss on Bard's lips and then he was off, Tauriel and the other guard close behind. Bard watched him go, sighing gently. Sigrid took his hand, squeezing it gently.

"You'll see him again soon," she assured him. "You look so much happier, Da. Mama would be happy that you are." Bard pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

"Thank you for sending that letter," he said and she looked at him, blushing in embarrassment.

"He told you then?" she asked.

"Yes. You were just trying to help your old man, I understand," he said, kissing her head again before pulling all three of his children in for a hug. "Come on, I have plans to review and it's getting cold. Bain, you better get a fire going." His son nodded before he ran off, his sisters behind him. Bard took one more glance over his shoulder in the direction that Thranduil went before smiling again and joining his people in work.

If anyone in Dale had seen the king kissing the King of the Woodland Realm, they uttered not a word that day.

This will become a series. I love Barduil too much to just leave it here. Hope you enjoyed.