He enjoyed watching her as she worked, lifting trays that were nearly half her size and shuffling them around to tables. He tried to help her with them sometimes, but whenever he reached to take a platter from her, she'd slap his hands away and mutter for him to go be productive somewhere else. She slaved over her work and labored as if her life and the lives of all she cared about depended on her performance at the tavern. Not once had Thranduil seen her drop a tray or so much as tilt off balance to compensate for the weight. She never complained, and at night when the work was finished, she'd always have time to spare for her little ones no matter how tired she was, and she was tired. Dis was exhausted and he did his best to allay her fears so that she could sleep peacefully at night. Still, the sun rose to early and set too late for her, but she would not take any help for herself. At first he thought it was because he was a man, and she had always been fiercely independent. He'd thought that he was unwanted, unneeded and a nuisance in her home. But then he'd gotten closer to her, a small feat within himself- and discovered that she couldn't accept help, because in her mind, that meant giving up. Dis had to go on pretending everything was fine for the sake of her sanity. If she accepted aid, that meant that the dragon truly had crippled her. He understood that feeling. He'd been the same way after the beast of Gondolin had scarred him and took away half his sight.

He stood behind the counter, refilling mugs of ale and passing them out to weary travelers as he watched Dis bustle back and forth between tables Vali and Dali on her heels. For the most part she paid no attention to who she was serving, dropping plates of food, her children gathering change from the customers. She only looked up when her name was called, the false name she'd told the people of this village. Occasionally those who didn't know it would holler 'wench' or some other obscenity. It irritated him to see her addressed as such. Her station was above it. Then again, he didn't have everyone running about referring to him as 'liege' or 'majesty'. She placed another pewter dish on a table and began walking toward the kitchen, clearly weary. He caught her eye and gave her a smile, and she returned it lighting up the entire tavern with her eyes.

Oh, he would have gone to war for that smile and defended its owner to his last breath. Dis lingered a bit longer than she had in the past, something softening in her expression as she looked at him. His chest seized up and he felt the urge -for about the seventh time that day- to scoop her up and kiss her. He doubted she would stand for being held, though. Before he could act on any urge, she went through the dim doorway into the kitchens to continue her work. Vali and Dali stayed outside, being too short to enter. The cook often accused them of getting underfoot and sticking their hands in to pots and pans to steal hunks of meat. Apparently the boiling water didn't bother them too much. Vali climbed up onto the counter, mop of straight blonde hair in her eyes as usual. He ruffled her hair and she laughed. He could see why people thought that she was his daughter, even in this form. The hair matched, as did the build. Dali was stockier, built like his mother, while Vali's build was willowy and languid. She seemed to flow from place to place, as inconsistent as a stream. She would have made a terrific archer. He'd have to teach her some time. She spots a customer wrapping up and scurries way to take the man's money, but not before pressing a kiss against her Da's cheek. She's been calling him that with increasing frequency as of late, when she thinks her mother can't hear. He doesn't mind it, and he smiles wryly when she does, knowing full well her mother would disapprove.

More and more often, he thinks of his future here, of the life he has with Dis and the lives of the two children he now thinks of as his own. He's grown used to this face, this visage, this falsehood that he perpetuates day after day. He knows now that he could stay here forever, happily and not give a thought to the elves of Mirkwood, besides. They wouldnever accept their king's decision, if it could be called that. Iluvatar, help him, he'd fallen in love with a dwarf. 'Dwarrowdam' He subconscious corrected. She'd made sure he'd never forget the proper term for her ever again.

And she didn't even know who he was.

That bothered him to no end, but he would not sacrifice their happiness for a trifle. There was still a part of him, a part that was free from Dis's allure that whispered vehemently in the back of his mind that wile the princess had come to care for his scars and malformation, she could never truly love his beauty. She'd hated him then and she would surely hate him now. She would scorn him and send him away, and they'd never see each other again. He would not risk his life here for a truth that she was better left not knowing. He set down the glass he was cleaning and tried to ignore the weight of truth on his heart, hoping it would lessen the more it was hidden.

-/.\-

It was past midnight when they finally arrived home and deposited the children into their beds. Dis was weary as usual, but she did her best to hide it, bustling around the main area of the house, sweeping and doing anything she could to perfect the room. He didn't know why he tired herself so, her house was already immaculate.

"Dis, go to sleep." He murmured, removing his boots and setting them in the corner, as she'd instructed.

"I will soon, I just-"

"Dis." She knew better than to argue with that voice. The woman sighed and returned the broom to its station, dusting her hand off on her skirt.

"Fine. " She sighed and closed her eyes, seeming barely able to stay on her feet. "Fine, you win." Thranduil turned and headed back to their room -that was what it was now, their room. He rarely slept outside of it, unless they'd argued about something. She was a fiery thing, and simply because she'd had two children and aged did not mean her temper had disappeared.- sliding into the bed nearly as soon as he'd donned what he usually slept in: nothing more than a pair of old breaches. He'd already been drifting off when he heard her enter quietly. Her dress hit the floor shortly after and he tried to stop those base thoughts from running through his mind. He'd admittedly grown better at managing them over the past months and channelling that energy into other things. He would not approach her, however. It would not be proper.

"Āri."That was her name for him. He had no idea what it meant, but she'd set to calling him it after nearly a week's stay when 'Son of Man' had gotten old. He grunted in response to her call, but she didn't respond for a few more moments.

"Āri." He yawned, but didn't open his eyes. He was exhausted and so was she. Besides that, she was using the voice she used when she wanted to have long conversations.

"What is it Dis? And can it wait 'til morning?"

"Āri." She was exasperated now and he sat up.

"For the love of Iluvatar, Dis what do you-" She stopped him mid-sentence. Few beings in his life had had the power to do that. He was ancient, older even than this age, and never had he been stopped cold by a woman. Dis was staring at him shyly, ice blue eyes cast downward as soon as his own landed upon her. Dark hair spilled over her shoulder in a loose braid that framed rose-tinted cheeks and hung nearly to her waist. The entirety of her was bare, not a stitch of clothing to be found. He could see now, full on, that she was strong and built for royalty. While not tall by any means, she stood several inches above other dwarrow women and her features were arched, proud even. Her waist flourished outward to form wide, round hips and strong legs. Her arms were crossed over her chest as he stared and they only tightened. At that moment the girl who would have been king looked as meek as a nursemaid. She looked down, dark hair sweeping over her eyes. "...want."

"I-I know that I am not pleasing to look upon-" He rolled out of bed at that and crossed the room in a few short strides, capturing her face between his hands and pressing his lips against hers with a ferocity that astounded even him.

"You are beautiful." He nearly hissed. He wanted her to understand that she was, despite the scars she bore, despite the burns and the circles round her eyes from exhaustion, she was beautiful to him. She looked up at him with all the innocence and purity of a doe, her lips nearly bruised from his reaction. He lowered his mouth to hers once more, gentler this time, yearning in his pursuit. He wrapped his arms around her, amazed was more by how small she was in comparison to him. He was careful with her, trying not to break her as he lifted her and brought her to the bed, never once breaking contact. Dis wrapped her arms around him and he fell backward.

The heat was quickly building between them, as was the tightness in his pants. He was straining against them already and he longed to be free, to bury himself inside of her, to her his name on her lips...even if it wasn't his true name. He groans as her chest presses against his and runs as hand down her back, using the other to extinguish the candle on the side table. He wants to be himself for this. The shift is nearly instantaneous and if Dis felt him change, she didn't say anything, and if her partner seemed a bit taller, his hair a bit straighter, her skin a bit smoother, he was to say that it wasn't her imagination?

-/.\-

Her stamina was incredible.

This thought kept running through his head over and over as he lay in bed with her, totally spent. He was still buried deep inside of her, though Thranduil was sure she'd fallen asleep nearly the moment they were done for the final time. He lazily traced the ridges and valley's of her burns lightly, watching as her chest rose and fell with each breath. He could stay here, like this, forever. He would give up his kingdom for her, gladly, and live among mortals for the rest of his days if it meant staying here with her. His eyes had just begun to drift shut when he heard her speak.

"I love you."

He pressed a kiss to the skin where her jaw and neck met.

"And I, you."