Good morning everyone. So here's the last chapter before I leave for vacation! Note: This is unbeta-ed like every other one of my stories so I don't know how this one will go.
Enjoy! Or not. It's up to you.
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I.
"Bard, what do you think of my outfit? It is better than that Fool Under the Mountain, is it not?"
Bard, former fisherman, now Lord of Dale, stared blankly at the elf. How did a meeting of barter between the three kingdoms turned into a fashion contest?
"It is, er, interesting, King Thranduil." That was mildly putting it, with all the silver and diamonds inlaid on the torso, the tunic was rather garish. The lights in the room had to be lowered significantly in order that Thranduil won't blind everyone; he was practically a beacon. "It is shiny," was all Bard could day while trying not to look at the fuming Dwarf King on the other side of the table.
"Indeed it is."
"You don't know anything about fashion, elf," the raven spat. "You look even worse than that worm."
"Shut it, dwarf. You just have a low standard," Thranduil purred back.
Oh Vala no. That sent the two kings into a screaming match.
II.
"Er, what is it I am seeing right now?" Bard whispered to Legolas, confusion laced in his features. From beside him, the Elf Prince scrunched up his face in distaste.
"Ada is going through a fashion phase. This month is featuring Hobbits."
Bard seen the Hobbit Burglar before, back when Lake Town was still standing and he was still a simple fisher- and bowman, but was tight breeches, sandals, and a horrible shade of yellow vest part of the norm in the Shire? He didn't think so.
"Lord Bard, I look remarkably like the Burglar today." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes you do, King Thranduil," Bard just decided to agree. He really didn't want to know what would happen to him otherwise. Maybe he would be dressed up as crazy as the Elvenking was.
III.
"How is my hair, Bard? Don't I look fabulous?" The Elvenking swung his head back, hair flowing over his shoulder.
Bard looked up, barely batting an eye at the dark green hair. "Yes. Are you going for a forest theme this time?" The monarch was also wearing a dark olive robe over moss-colored tunic and, thankfully, black breeches to compliment his hair.
"Finally! Someone gets it!" the used-to-be blind elf uncharacteristically threw his hands up into the air, before widening his blue eyes, placing his hands by his side and clearing his throat. "Everyone else thought I liked green."
Bard thought so too, but didn't say anything. He also wondered how he changed his hair color. Perhaps Thranduil will tell him his secret.
IV.
"Bard, come look at me. I am attractive, am I not?"
"Sure," Bard shrugged. He'd grown used to the infinite amount of bizarre clothes the elf owned and wore to care anymore. "Whatever you say, King Thranduil."
(It didn't help that he was summoned by the Mirkwood king for 'important meetings' when it was just the elf showing off his clothes every month.)
(This time his clothes were tame but not by much. The elf wore a suit made for the race of Men, modified of course, but the thing that truly horrified Bard was the fact that the suit was pink. It didn't matter if Thranduil would say it was fuschia, it was still pink.)
V.
"Come on, Thranduil. You're attractive in whatever you wear," Bard said through the door.
"That dwarf scum said I looked hideous!" That sounded suspiciously like a sob, but no, Thranduil didn't cry so it must have been his imagination.
"No, you're not. Don't believe what Thorin says; he's just jealous. You look fabulous."
Silence. Then, "I do, don't I?"
"Of course you are. Now please come out. You'll ruin your image."
"Of course. I am still attractive! I'll show Thorin bloody Oakenshield who's fabulous!" Insane laughter came from inside and a sigh came from the Man who wondered what did he do to deserve this fate.
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Shadow: OK. I hope you like this. I really don't know where this one went wrong. Anyway, gotta run and prepare stuff for my bro's graduation celebration! Bye!