Chapter Thirty-Six
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SUMMARY: While we wait for Thranduil to calm down, let's find out what happened out there in the rain with Tur and Rhian…
So, Galion and Rôgon are hitched, espoused, merged, coupled, almalgamated, conjugated, connubilated, doubled up, hooked up and joined in holy wedlock!
And Bard may not have and Elf on the Shelf, but he has an Elf in the Closet...
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*****Trigger Warning: Descriptions of sexual assault*****
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"How could this be happening to me?"
"I'm lying when I say , 'Trust me'."
"I can't believe this is true..."
"Trust hurts."
"Why does trust equal suffering?"
"Trust" by Megadeth
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City of Dale, 13th of August 2944 T.A.
"Will you look at those two?"
Turamarth entered the kitchen just as Rhian took the roast out of the oven. After setting the pan on some trivets to let the meat rest, she pointed out the kitchen window and giggled.
Daeron and Darryn were playing in the pouring rain, completely nude. His nephew's squeals of delight were matched by his Gwador's joyous laughter as they took turns chasing each other around the flower beds, the vegetable patch and played hide and seek in the trees.
Instead of a wave of warmth, it was as if a knife pierced Turamarth's heart, and he was helpless to do anything but hold still, and let the blade twist and turn and slice him to bits. If he moved, he would bleed, and never stop. If he opened his mouth and spoke, the torrent would begin, and it might not end. Ever.
Be still.
Be silent.
Keep it inside …
Do not let it out…
Keep it in, keep it in, keep it in…
He could do this. He was a Guardian of the Woodland Realm, had long years of practice at the discipline of self-control.
He remained stoic as he set the table.
He went to the Sitting Room and pretended to be busy when Daeron and the baby came inside, and he listened to them all laugh and joke as Rhian helped them get dried off and dressed again.
He made it all the way through dinner and kept his composure, and did not give any indication of the crushing pressure in his chest. And he studiously ignored the looks Rhian sent his way.
Keep it in, keep it in, keep it in…
He sat and watched Darryn after dinner, while Daeron and Rhian did the dishes, and tried not to listen to their soft laughs and loving words.
Keep it in, keep it in, keep it in…
"You'd better get him in the tub," Rhian told Daeron after they came out. "Neither one of you are getting in my clean sheets until all that dirt is washed off."
"You heard your Mama, Pînig," Daeron grinned, and scooped his son up. "What do you say we get some bubbles?"
"Bubbles!" Darryn clapped. "With you, Ada?"
"I think we can arrange that." After kissing Rhian, they headed for the downstairs bathing room.
"Tur?" Rhian turned toward him, and eyed him with concern. "Are you all right?"
Keep it in, keep it in, keep it in…
"I am fine," he said, as his insides screamed.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course." Turamarth forced himself to stay in the Sitting Room, to avoid her following him upstairs and demanding answers. He sat on the couch with his book and stared at the pages.
KeepitinKeepitinKeepitinKeepitin…
Rhian picked up her knitting, and began to work, though he didn't miss the sidelong glances she sent his way.
Turamarth's hands began to shake, and his leg began to bounce up and down rapidly.
Stop, stop, stop, stopstopstopstop—
No, no, no, NO, NO!
The bile rose in his throat, the book was quickly cast aside as he jumped to his feet, raced to the back door, and flung it open. Heedless of the driving rain, he staggered outside to the tree, grabbed his middle and lost his dinner. Turmarth put a hand on the trunk of the Maple and tried to steady himself, but his knees gave way, and he fell to the ground, and doubled over. The sounds of his sorrow came from deep in his bones, but still could not match the ugliness still trapped inside. All he could do was try not to explode from the force of it.
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Compassionate hands grasped his shoulders, warm arms gathered him, urging his head to lay against the wet fabric of a soft chest. Over the wind and wetness, a steady heartbeat and a soft voice murmured comfort.
He was helpless to stop the torrent, but held him fast to keep him from being swept away.
"I've got you, Tur." Soft lips kissed his head. "It's all right; you'll be all right."
Even after his cries turned into soft hiccups, she held fast, soothing him until his breaths evened out to a reasonable rhythm.
"Come on, love." Rhian told him. "Let's get you inside. We need to talk."
He was to weak to argue, so she guided him to stand, wrapped an arm around his waist and brought him inside, where there were a stack of towels and two robes waiting for them on the dining room table.
"Here," she handed him two towels, and a robe. "Out of those clothes. Now."
Rhian ducked into the kitchen pantry with her own things to change. Turamarth peeled off his tunic, leggings, and smalls, leaving them in a wet pile by the back door. After patting himself dry, after he fastened his robe, and rubbed the other towel through his sopping hair.
Rhian reappeared in her white robe, carrying a tea tray, with some shortbread cookies.
"This is mint tea; you need something on your stomach," he said. "Sit you down."
He dumbly did as he was told, and stared down at the table top, as she poured him a cup and set a couple cookies in front of him.
"Small bites," she said.
"That is what Daeron says," he whispered.
"Where do you think I got it" Rhian sat down beside him. "I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but this a good sign. Still," she fixed herself a plate, "we need to talk about this, Tur."
He wrapped his hands around his cup, and shook his head. "I cannot."
She sighed. "Fair enough, but let me tell you something I do know: I didn't start to get better, until I realized I had to forgive myself."
At his incredulous look, she waved her hand, and shook her head. "Oh, I know it doesn't make sense, but it was still true. I believed for a long time that what Garth did to me was my own fault; that I let him isolate me from everyone else, so he could convince me that I couldn't do anything for myself. I let him do anything he wanted because I believed him when he told me I deserved it."
"But you did not! He was the one who did those terrible things!"
"Hannah told me that this happens to a lot of people who have been abused. The attacker wants to make their victims believe it's their fault. But the funny thing is, once I realized I needed to forgive myself, it was easier to understand it wasn't something I had nothing to forgive myself for. She said it's something called, 'Learned Helplessness."
"But what if…" his voice cracked, "what if I was not the victim?"
Rhian's eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Tur, did that Blue Bastard force you to rape Evvy in your head? Is that what happened?"
The Elf's stomach began to shake. "I… I was the one who hurt her, who laughed, and felt aroused when she screamed… " he covered his face as the shame tore at this heart. "Ai, delos naergon … I w-was the one who—"
"But don't you see? You were the victim, not Evvy." Rhian grabbed his hands and pulled them away. "It wasn't you! That wasn't real! Look at me, Tur!"
His head remained lowered, and he began to cry again.
"That wasn't your fault, just like I wasn't to blame for what Garth did to me. Do you understand? It's the exact same thing!"
"NO! It is not!" He glared angrily. "It is not the same thing at all!"
"Yes, it is! Could you honestly have fought that bastard off?"
"I should have tried harder…"
"Were you strong enough to pull yourself out of it? Or was this Pallad-whats-his-name too powerful?"
"I could not wake up. Daeron told me Mithrandir had to help them."
"Oh, so you're stronger than Gandalf, now?"
"No, but it was so real, and I was hurting her..."
"You blame yourself for not fighting off this stuff, like it's your fault. Just like I used to blame myself for Garth."
"This is different for an Elf, Rhian!" he slammed his hands on the table, making the dishes clink and the cookies to jump from the plate. "I felt what it was like to... be with someone like in that way…" his voice trembled. "I felt her skin under my hands, and I heard her screams, and I even…"
"Did you come?"
He squeezed his eyes shut, and he sank into his shoulders.
"So did I," she said.
"What?" he choked.
"Once, when Garth raped me, I came. I was confused and hurt like you are, but Hannah says it happens, that our bodies are just reacting, nothing more. Tell me," she asked as she grasped his chin and turned his head to look at her, "do you think I should I be ashamed?
"No," he murmured. "But I have never been with anyone like that, and for an Elf, my first time—"
"Do you think my own wedding night was pleasant? Shall I tell you what my first time was like? How I was torn and bruised and bleeding and how he laughed? And that wasn't a dream, Tur; it was real. So, let me ask you again: should I be ashamed?"
"No." he said in a strangled voice.
"I was ashamed for a long time, but look at me now. I worked my arse off to get past it, because I decided I wasn't going to let Garth or Phylip own a minute of my future. I'm not saying I don't have moments or bad dreams, but I love my life, now. It is possible to find a way to be happy, even when something as terrible as this tries to tear us down."
"But this is different; I was the one who-"
"Tur, you were victimized, just like I was. You were raped, just like I was. Garth and this Blue jerk are alike; they were both sadists who enjoyed forcing their will on others. Garth forced his will on me, you were forced to act out the deranged fantasy of some evil, blue Fart! That wasn't you, and it never will be!"
"How do you know?" he whispered.
Rhian gave him a fond smile. "Because if anyone tried to harm a hair on Darryn's head, you'd give your life to prevent it. You'd do the same for me, for Daeron, for a stranger on the street!" She caressed his cheek. "You'd take a thousand arrows for Evvy, a thousand times over to keep Evvy safe, wouldn't you?"
He swallowed, and his head bobbed slightly. "Yes."
"Of course, you would, sweetie. Blue Fart might have taken over your dreams, but he never had the power to change who you really are, right?"
"Perhaps, but I feel so empty inside, Rhian."
"Not empty." She ran her hand over his wet hair. "Just hiding. One of these days, you'll come out for a little bit into the sunshine, and little by little, we'll see our funny Gwador again."
"You think so?"
"I know so." She pointed to the yellow Sun-Star hanging around his neck. "Lady Galadriel wouldn't have given you that if she thought you were a monster." She poked him in the arm. "And I won't let you lose this fight. You can do this; I know you can."
Tur's mouth curved up slightly. "'Blue Fart?"
"Ugly Blue Fart." She stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry at him.
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The Woodland Realm, 17th of August 2944 T.A.
"If I did not see this with my own eyes, I would not believe it…" Elrohir whispered in his ear.
Legolas's eyebrows were nearly lost in his hairline, as he sat on one of the red couches in the King's chambers, and took in the surreal scene playing out at the dining table. Elladan and Elrohir were on either side of him, in a similar state of shock. The former's hand covered his eyes, and he was peeping though his fingers, and the latter's jaw was hanging open as he shook his head slowly.
Unruffled, Mithrandir relaxed in the overstuffed chair enjoying a cup of tea while he waited for things to play out. Emëldir had mumbled something about a meeting and excused herself a few minutes earlier.
"She just… yells at him like that?" the blonde Prince whispered.
"You have no idea," the Wizard's lips twitched.
"Do you know what would happen if we tried to speak to Ada that way?" Elladan asked, unable to look away. "He would put us through a wall!"
"Then Glorfindel would pick us up and do it again," agreed Elrohir. "Is Lady Hilda always this way?"
"I will have you know," Mithrandir said imperiously. "Lady Hilda of Dale is highly respected in these Halls, and has done a great deal to help relations between Elves and Men,"
"Of that, I have no doubt," Elladan whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
"Who would dare defy her?" Elrohir said, behind his hand, "If she had magical powers, she would be downright dangerous!"
"From the looks of things, she does…" Legolas murmured. "I cannot believe what I am seeing!"
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"I think you've had enough, love," Hilda stood behind Thranduil's chair, as he poured himself another glass of wine.
"I will stop drinking, when I can no longer see what I just saw!"
"Oh, for pity's sake!" The woman snatched the goblet out of his hand. "Quit acting so self-centered; not everything in the world is about you! Now, just settle down and think about this."
"That is precisely what I am trying not to do!" He reached for the glass, but she dumped it in the potted plant nearby.
"This nonsense has gone on long enough!" She stomped her foot and put her hands on her hips. "We have worked our arses off to get those two together, and I will not have you ruin this for him, so get over it! That Elf is the sweetest, kindest, most considerate being I have ever met in my life! And this behavior is going to stop, right now, do you hear me!"
Elladan gasped.
"Did she just say what I thought she said?" his twin clutched his chest.
"Ada told me about her, but I thought he was exaggerating…"
"Apparently he was not," Elladan grinned, and sat back. "I think I like her."
"Shhh!" Legolas jabbed him. "I cannot hear!"
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"All your life Galion has put you first, hasn't he? Hasn't he? Well, don't just sit there with your teeth in your mouth, answer me!"
"Well, I suppose…"
"'You suppose?!" she threw her hands up and really got going. "Sweet stars in the heavens, are you thick! NO wonder Galion wanted to leave! He's lived for you and your family for how many years? How many, Thranduil?"
"Well…"
"Exactly!" She yelled. "Now let me tell you something, else! YOU are going to invite that sweet, wonderful Elf here with his husband, and YOU are going to be happy for him, do you hear me? YOU are going to smile," she counted on her fingers, "YOU are going to congratulate him, YOU are going to embrace both him and Rôgon, and YOU are going wish the same happiness for him as he did when you married Bard, do I make myself clear?
"Because if you don't, Thranduil Oropherion, if you do not, AFTER I 'm done thrashing you into the middle of next week, I will take them to the Grey Havens AND PUT THEM ON THE SHIP MYSELF! "
Legolas winced, closed his eyes and waited for the explosion.
After a few minutes of silence, he opened one eye slightly, then both and the sight of his cowed father.
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"You are right, Brennil Vuin. " Adar sighed. "Galion is the worthiest Elf I have ever known, and I have no right to deny him anything." He leaned his elbow on the table and rested his head. I was just so…shocked. I never thought of him as one who has needs of his own, and I am disgusted with myself! How could I have been so foolish?"
One of the twins (he didn't know which one) squeaked in astonishment at what happened next:
"Well," Hilda put her arm around his shoulders, "maybe we should have sent you a message ahead of time, and for that, I'm sorry. We just wanted them to have a real honeymoon, you know? We thought we could explain everything before you… well, who could have predicted you'd just burst in on them, yeah?"
"I know," Thranduil grasped her hand on his shoulder. "I should have knocked. Again, I admit I do not think of Galion that way, and that is inexcusable!"
"Well, now… I can see why you'd be upset, lovey. We none of us like to think of our parents having sex—"
"Hilda, please…" Thranduil sat up straight.
"Oh, you're not the only one who's like that, you know. I'll bet if Bard ever walked in on Percy and I, we'd have to talk him down from the ceiling—"
" Ai naergon, Hilda! Stop, I beg you!"
The Wizard put down his teacup with an expectant smile.
"...can you imagine what would happen if one of the children happened to catch you and Bard when you—"
"Aiiiiiii! " A horrified squeal escaped Legolas as he jumped to his feet in an instant and raced out the door, babbling, "IbelieveIwillgoseetheElksintheforestnowElladanandElrhohirwouldyouliketojoinme?" He grabbed the doorknobs, gave them a good yank and he was gone.
"Wait for us!" Elrohir called, as the twins tucked a bottle of Haldir's vintage under each armpit and dashed after him. "Coming!"
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"Come on, love…" Hilda helped the Elvenking to his feet. "You've had a long ride, and a big surprise; why don't you go have a lie down? The boys are gone, so you'll have some peace and quiet for a little while."
"That is a good idea," Thranduil sighed and pulled his chair back, and offered her a tired smile. "I missed you, Mellon,"
"Oh, I missed you, too. Welcome home." She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "This is a good thing; you know that, don't you? You've just had a lot going on the last few weeks. You're tired, that's all."
"Yes," he smiled down at her. "I suppose I am." He kissed her check, waved to Mithrandir and disappeared into his bedroom.
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Hilda flopped down on the couch with a sigh. "I am getting too old for this."
"Bite your tongue!" Gandalf laughed. "The way you chased the youngsters off will be the stuff of legend, my dear."
"That was too easy." She grinned. "What time will Bard be here?"
"In about two hours."
"Good." She hauled herself off the couch. "If you see Legolas before I do, make sure to tell him I've had his things moved to a private guest suite, next to mine. He'll like that better than crowding into apartment with the rest of the kids. I've also put Tilda in there with her brother and sister. She's used to her own room now."
"I'll tell him."
"Thanks." She rose from her chair and stretched. "I'm going to check on Legolas and make sure those boys keep him out of trouble."
The Wizard rolled his eyes. "I think you are the only one in Middle Earth who can."
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Thranduil rolled over in his bed at the Palace and opened his eyes. There was his beautiful Bowman, visiting him his dream…
"I have missed you, Meleth nîn..." Thranduil whispered, as Bard sat down on the bed with a smile.
"Here I am," his Bowman said, with a wide grin, and leaned down to kiss him…
Thranduil moaned, as their lips moved together, then parted—
Thranduil's eyes popped open with a gasp, and sat up. "Bard?"
"Here I am," he said again.
"Bard!" he ran his fingers over his husband's face, his shoulders, and through his black hair, and tugged at the pony tail in the back. "It is really you?" he cried and hugged him so hard the Bowman would never get away again.
"Man cerig hi?" his voice shook. "How did you…"
"I got your message a few days ago, but Gandalf and Hilda sent one this morning, asking me to come. They said you'd need me."
"I do," he laid his head on Bard's shoulder. "Oh, I do…I do…" He blinked and lifted his head. "The children?"
"Percy's bringing them in two days, as planned, although Tilda wants her Ada something fierce." Bard gave him a lop-sided smile, then his features softened. "I needed to see you, too, love. Elrond told me what happened, and Turamarth's such mess..."
"I know, Meleth." Thranduil gazed in the forest of Bard's eyes. "As much as I needed you, I am glad you were not there." His throat tightened and the tears threatened to escape again. " Nae naergon , I nearly lost him…. When I think of it—"
"But you didn't lose him. He's here, and you two are all right." The Bowman gently lifted a strand of hair out of his eyes. "I'm here and I've got you."
"Yes, you are, and you feel so wonderful." Thranduil grabbed him again and held him tight. "Never again, will I leave you like that."
"Don't make promises you can't keep love," Bard chuckled in his ear, after he kissed it. "But I've got you right now and I'm not going anywhere." He kissed Thranduil's brow, his eyes, his cheeks, then his mouth, softly at first, but with increasing urgency.
The Elvenking's body came to life, as it could only do when his Bowman touched him. The throbbing heaviness in his groin began to demand attention, and he pulled Bard on top of him and became lost in the warmth of the two of them.
Until something pierced the fog and made him stop.
"Bard?" He put his hands in his chest and pushed him away. "Galion is married!"
"Aye, and Tilda is ready to spit nails about it. She wanted to be their Flower Girl." Bard chortled. "I think I should warn Rôg; she promised to give him a good kick in the shins."
"She would not do that!"
"Wanna bet? Hey…" he touched Thranduil's face, eyes full of worry. "What's wrong, love? I know it's a surprise to all of us, but you're happy for them, right?"
"I do not know…" he sat back up on the bed. "Did they tell you how I found out?"
"Gandalf did." Bard's eyes glittered with merriment. "Bit of a shock, was it?"
"Yes!" He said angrily. "Why did you not tell me?"
"I didn't think it was my place. I was sure Galion would have done that; he always handles that stuff, and I—"
"Well, he did not!" he snapped. "No one did, and then I…"
"I heard." Bard pursed his lips hard to keep from grinning. "I had no idea you'd find out like that."
"Well, I did, and I am very upset!" he sniffed, then sighed. "I am angry with myself, too."
"How so?"
"I have done Galion a terrible injustice; I should have seen him as a person, not just an extension of myself, or what he could do for me! I love him, Bard, but I have been selfish and that is reprehensible!"
"Thranduil," Bard sat cross-legged, and took his hands. "He's your parent, in all but name, and it's only natural. Do you honestly think Tilda and Bain see us like that? They don't! Sigrid is beginning to, but all children do that." He smiled softly. "You're also scared."
"Me?" he said. "What is there to be frightened of?"
"Everything between you is different now, and you wonder where you fit in his life." Bard smiled. "Galion isn't going to put you and the family first anymore, outside of the work in your Kingdom. You can't look over your shoulder and see him waiting to anticipate your every need. That's going to take some getting used to."
"He may not stay, Bard, did you know that? He spoke to Emëldir briefly, after…they wed, and he and Rôg have not decided where they want to go."
"Really?" The Bowman's eyes widened. "I thought once those two settled things…" he rested his knuckles against his lips in thought. "Did Emëldir say anything else?"
"Only that Galion has been lonely since you and I married; and he does not feel we need him anymore."
"Thranduil," Bard asked quietly, "has it occurred to you that Galion might be afraid, too? What if you don't accept the fact that they did this without you?"
"I do not know," his head shook. "I have not thought about it."
"Don't you think you should? When you and I fell in love, how would you have felt if Galion became angry, and wouldn't support it?"
"I would have done it, anyway."
"I'm not talking about what you'd do; I'm asking how it would feel. There's difference."
"I… would be hurt beyond measure."
"Exactly. So, ask yourself what you want, and what you are willing to tell him," the Bowman let go of his hand and rested it on his cheek. "Knowing my Elf like I do, you'll do the right thing."
He got up and pulled the Elvenking to stand. "In the meantime, I've got you back in my arms after two months, and I plan on celebrating."
"Oh?" Thranduil's smile became rakish. "What do you have in mind?"
"You'll see." Bard grabbed him by the hand, dragged him into their walk-in closet and locked the door behind them. "Unless you plan on scaring the shit out of Legolas again, I suggest you put up a Silencing Spell."
"Your wish is my command, Aran nîn ," Thranduil waved his hand, spoke the words, and it was done.
"Damn right, I'm your King. Get those clothes off. Now."
"What about you?"
"I am your King, and I command you to strip. Do it!"
Tingling with excitement, Thranduil did has he was told, until he stood before his husband in the nude. "What do you want of me, My King?"
"Sit, and don't move."
He seated himself in the cushioned chair and smiled at himself in the mirror as he watched his Bowman pull a flat box down from one of the shelves. A few moments later, the Emerald Necklace was gracefully draped across his collarbone, its many jewels glimmering in the light from above.
Bard held his eyes, one corner of his mouth turning up, as he slowly removed his clothing. When he removed his leggings and underclothes, Thranduil reached out to touch him but his hand was slapped away.
"You don't touch. You don't do anything until I command it."
"I am at your service, My King."
"Too right, you are." Once Bard was completely naked, he turned and gave Thranduil a view of his magnificent buttocks, as he rummaged around the drawers of the vanity, and pulled out several small towels, a bottle of oil, and…
Two silver-blue scarves.
"Ah." He laughed. "It is going to be that kind of a celebration, is it?"
"Yep."
And it was.
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"Well, at least we didn't break anything, this time."
Thranduil, his head cradled on his husband's stomach, gave him an exhausted smile. "That is good, for I do not have another chair like that."
"Just as well. I think Galion's days of running around behind you and picking up pieces of furniture have come to an end." Bard lifted his hand and ran his fingers through the length of his long, blonde hair. "From what I've heard, he and Rôgon might be smashing their own chairs."
Only in the sleepy, relaxed haze of their lovemaking could Thranduil find it funny. "If they do I will take care of it."
"That would be nice," Bard sighed with a hum. "But I think Rôgon would. Truth be told, it's high time Galion had someone to take care of him for a change."
"I never thought about it. But… you are right. Maybe I do not need him as much as I used to."
"You don't, love," Bard stroked his head. "Think of Hilda and Percy; they work for me, they look after the family, but they live for each other. I don't see any reason why Galion couldn't still work in the Castle during the day, then go home to Rôg."
"I think that would work."
"Course it would. We all think the world of Rôgon. We also know if he ever did wrong by Galion, no one would find his body."
"True," Thranduil giggled.
"Now that Legolas is home, we'll be so busy figuring all that out, there won't be time for you to worry about anything else, right?"
"Mmmm…" Thranduil closed his eyes, and sank into his husband's warmth…
Then they opened again. He sat up and stared down at Bard. "Did you do all this just to calm me down?"
"No," Bard smirked up at him. "And yes. It's true I've been fantasizing about this, but," he reached up and caressed Thranduil's face, "you've been dealing with a boatload of shit in the last two months, and you needed it."
"I have," he kissed Bard's mouth several times, "and I do."
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Aran nîn – My King
Man cerig hi? – What are you doing here?
Nae, naergon – Alas, lament
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