𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃

─ “Wɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ                  #ＰＥＡＣＥ? ᴏʀ #ＷＡＲ?”                    ||#TᴏʟᴋɪᴇɴRP||

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

─ “ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏғғ #ɢᴀʟʟɪᴠᴀɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀsᴛʟᴇ, I ᴡᴀs ᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴀᴍɴ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ.”

❖┊#ɴᴇᴡ: ʙᴀʀᴅ
❖┊#ʀᴘ_ᴛʏᴘ: ᴘᴀʀᴏᴅʏ / sᴇʀɪᴏᴜs
❖┊#ᴅᴀᴅ_sᴀss
❖┊ᴘᴇɴɴᴇᴅ ʙʏ: #ᴅɪᴄᴋ
❖┊#ʀᴛs ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

-Feels like this is a trap-

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

. . . Excuse me???

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

—; 𝒯ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ 𝘤 𝘰 𝘮 𝘮 𝘰 𝘯 ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʀᴍᴇʀ ℬᴀʀɢᴇᴍᴀɴ,
ℱᴏʀ ʜᴇ ɪs ɴᴏ 𝘤 𝘰 𝘮 𝘮 𝘰 𝘯 ᴍᴀɴ.

𝒩ᴏʙɪʟɪᴛʏ 𝘣 𝘦 𝘤 𝘰 𝘮 𝘦 𝘴 ʜɪᴍ,

ℬ𝐴𝑅𝐷,
𝒦𝐼𝑁𝐺 ᴏғ 𝒟𝐴𝐿𝐸.

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

@OFELFISMS — his thick murmur, his grip a little more firm as he ran his thumb over the Elf’s jawline. “But you have no say in the matter.”

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

“I should hope so.” He begins, his back-eyed gaze wandering over the cavernous ceiling that stretched out above them. “A King has certain appetites, after all.” He adds, only ever claiming his title as King of Dale while in private company.

Now those midnight eyes settled on --

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

@OFELFISMS — He preferred it.

The raw reality.

However, the raven-haired man’s face darkened ever so slightly when the Fair One expressed his belief that he did not deserve Bard’s kindness.

“With all due respect, my Lord,” The King of Dale replies in —

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

@OFELFISMS — not reflected in your appearance… Or in you.” The authority in his tone makes it clear.

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

@OFELFISMS —

When his primal, protective instincts subside, Bard’s expression softens at once. His hand moves, ghosting over the mutilated skin of Thranduil’s cheek.

When he speaks, his voice is thick and course. “Whatever ugliness you have seen, it is —

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

@OFELFISMS — light but measured, “Many a beast, both foul and dark have I seen and non have churned my stomach yet. Whatever ugliness you believe yourself to be in possession of, -I- believe will prove to be anything but.”

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

@OFELFISMS — contradictory emotions. Ones he had yet to navigate.

However, Bard’s expression changed at Thranduil’s words, and the Bowman tilts his head. Dark brows fence in, eyes narrowing. “I am curious now, as to what has you saying that.” His voice is —

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

@OFELFISMS — signature was written in his scars…

“My stories will now doubt seem pale and hollow in comparison to yours.” The man murmurs quietly.

[𝐁 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 @BardTheBadass]

@OFELFISMS — to know the king better, the former Bargeman began to understand that Thranduil is not winter alone, but the waking thaw of spring.

And how the King’s image often haunted him with visions of his wife.

His lost beloved.

The one whose —