You were surprised when Thranduil came to see you for a second time in the same day. He wasn't his normal regal self as he had been earlier though. This time he was obviously angry and stressed. He sat on the edge of your bed, massaging the bridge of his nose with his long, white fingers.
"Tauriel has taken off after your dwarves," he informed you.
"But why?"
"Apparently, she is fond of that young dark-haired one. My fool of a son has followed her against my orders because he is fond of her."
You couldn't help but smirk. Your nephew had always had a way with the ladies.
Thranduil was now eyeing your son in his basket beside you. "May I hold him?"
At first, you were hesitant. He was an enemy after all, right? You'd heard Thorin go on and on about him enough anyway. But he'd been good to you so far, so you agreed.
You watched as he lifted your son and bounced him in his arms. He was speaking softly to him in elvish.
"I named him Thor," you volunteered.
"An unusual name."
"Not as unusual as Thran-du-il," you said, sounding out each syllable with a smirk. You were shocked when it earned a rare laugh from the elven king.
Growing serious again he said, "Enjoy these moments with him. They are fleeting."
Then he placed Thor back into his basket and looked at you. "You remind me greatly of someone I used to know."
"Someone good?" you asked.
"Someone wonderful." Then he bid you goodbye, whispered something else to the baby, and left your room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thranduil awoke you early the next morning. "We are leaving for Dale."
"But Dale is deserted."
"Not anymore. The dragon attacked Laketown last night. Rumor has it a man named Bard was the one who destroyed it. The people have moved to Dale. We will be taking supplies to them. I assumed you would want to go."
Of course you wanted to go. Anything that would get you and Thor closer to Erebor, and hopefully Thorin and your friends.
Even though you were still weak from the delivery, you tried to hop out of bed to get dressed. Thranduil stopped you though by placing a hand on your shoulder. "I will send someone to assist you."
"No, I can manage."
"I will send someone anyway," he said with a smile.
After the elf maiden had helped you dress and get the baby ready, she led you to a cart full of supplies that you would be riding in. Several minutes later, the elves were prepared and the cart began its bumpy journey to Dale.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The utter excitement of the people all around you at the arrival of the supplies filled the air with an electrifying energy. Leaning over the side of the wagon, you spotted Thranduil speaking to someone you assumed must be Bard. He looked like the kind of man who could shoot down a dragon anyway.
The pair approached you, and Thranduil took Thor in one arm and helped you out of the cart with the other. The dark-haired stranger addressed you, "I'm Bard, and you are?"
"Y/n, wife of Thorin."
You felt Thranduil's arm tense against you, but you were focused on the look on Bard's face. You'd seen that look before. It meant he'd met Thorin and the encounter had been...less than pleasant. It didn't surprise you. In spite of how much you loved your husband, you weren't blind to his faults.
