“To love you is to fall, knowing that I’ll still be caught in the end. To love you is to gaze at the sky and get lost whilst counting all the stars in the sky, searching for the one star that will try to out-shine you, without ever being successful. To love you is to be at peace; to see beyond the negativity. To love you is to feel embraced, protected from all harm.
To love you is to live a never-ending dream; one I do not want to wake up from.”
Okay, so Thranduil loves Bard just the way he is, old coat and boots and well worn gloves and hair a mess of curls, but there is just SOMETHING about seeing your other half just looking so FINE.
Like maybe there is some massive ball or festival or something that makes everyone just dress up in all their finery, LIKE THEIR WEDDING, and Thranduil is waiting, just mulling around with Elven officials, and avoiding the Dwarven leaders, and drinking fine wine and just enjoying being in his element amongst other beautiful people.
Then trumpets sound, and all eyes are on the stairs, the guards announce the arrival of King Bard of Dale, and he just looks stunning. And Thranduil just freezes, with that look that we haven’t seen since we saw him staring at a chest full of precious diamonds.
But Bard is just so much more than jewels, and up until this point, he and Bard have been courting not so privately, and Thranduil has never had a chance to see him like this. His hair is tamed, brushed back and trimmed, so is his beard and mustache. His clothes are new, and just, oh, they suit him so well. A deep blue, threaded with silver and he just looks like he is made of starlight. His back is straight, and his face is full of confidence, and he is prim and polished and he just wears it so well.
And he just seems to float down the stairs, he looks so happy, because for a man who has spent his days without a coin to his name, you will forgive him for being able to feel some sort of luxury. And before Thranduil realizing it, he’s making his way through the staring crowd to the base of the staircase, and Bard stops, and smiles a smile just for him.
And Thranduil is down on one knee, with a clean and manicured hand in his own and it’s warm and with a bow of his head, the Elven King presses a gentle kiss to the delicate skin on the top of Bard’s hand.
And Bard just sighs and a slight blush tinges his cheeks, and that is how you make a courting public.
Then Thranduil stands, and for once is taken off guard by his chin being taken in a gentle grip, and a firm kiss being bestowed on his lips and everyone knows that is a kiss of love and possession. For Bard is shy for taking things for himself, but the love of the King of the Woodland Realm is something he will NOT share.