Thranduil desires no dispute, not with Bard and especially not over something so trivial, for he knows very well that there has not been any intent to insult behind misplaced amusement and the verbalized response to the elvenking’s concern. Nonetheless, he had to create this distance for a moment to remind himself in silence that Bard has simply meant to distract him from a topic which should not be thought of just yet. No more, no less. Today, in these hours, there is no need to let one’s mind sway toward the possibility of future misfortune, but to share this little time they are granted together in peace.
Where light breezes of air brush over his bare chest and beautiful nuances red and gold seem to paint fire into pale golden strands of hair, Thranduil keeps his gaze directed to the setting sun while, with ease, his senses detect Bard’s motions toward him—— whose proximity he does not avoid. In fact, he welcomes the warmth granted to him anew and after only a second of hesitation, the elvenking palms the man’s hands whilst standing in this embrace, listens but maintains a mildly disappointed expression at first.
Of course can Thranduil forgive Bard for his misplaced reaction moments ago, even if it keeps stinging ever so slightly how opening up has earned him a response which has left on him an impression of thanklessness. Since when do they know each other by now, anyway? Misunderstandings are bound to occur until they would both have grown fully aware of each other’s flaws, what also demands from an usually introvert being to allow insight. A challenge indeed.
It is the kiss which lastly causes his features to soften, gaze of steel blue to remove its focus from the horizon and cast downward for a few mere blinks——— until Thranduil decides to turn on his heel, slowly, and offer Bard the faintest of a smile.
“You may call it a habit. Loss teaches you the importance
of protection, mell nin. But you are right, I suppose.”
He pauses, a quiet sigh escaping his lips before they’d briefly rest against Bard’s forehead and slender fingers gently comb through dark curls in an almost comforting manner, as the tone of his voice turns into barely more than whispers.
“Joy shall fill the moments that we spend together, which the
both of us are in dire need of. So let us forget this misunder-
standing and return to bed. U n l e s s ———-”
A suggestive grin tugs on the edges of pale lips then, the soft pair that seeks the man’s to teasingly brush upon.
“———- you prefer to find joy elsewhere.”
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