"My Lord, you cannot be serious." She protested in her typical monotone.
"I assure you that I am, my Lady. I want his head...then once Thror and Thrain are gone, we may yet have that mountain." Thranduil said in his own emotionless tone, glaring dow...
Oriana went home after she was healed...parting ways from Legolas with much despair.
When she arrived in Lothlorien, her mother had been waiting at the boarder. Never had Oriana been hugged by her mother for so long. Galadriel never wanted to let her go.
Thorin let Fili take the throne, so he went with Bilbo to the Shire. If he were to remain in the Mountain, his sickness would only set in again. He though it best to simply stay away.
Kili and Tauriel were married within two years, having their first child four years later. A little girl name Laskelem...Thranduil would never admit to being happy about it. He would mentor the child.
Legolas went north, where he met Aragorn before they travelled south to Ithilien...
***
Oriana sat in her chambers, sharpening her sword as she sang to herself. Her home was a lone white tree palace in Lothlorien. It has already been ten years since the battle...
She was interrupted in her meticulous sharpening when Haldir entered her chamber. "My Lady, there is a human noble here to see you, along with King Thranduil of Greenwood. The noble is Lord Bard of Dale." Haldir informed. "He requires healing." He added and Oriana's eyes widened a bit.
"Of course...bring them up, I'll ready herbs and assess what the silly man has done to himself." She stood up and walked out into her living room of sorts.
She put on a kettle with Athelas tea. Herbs were cooking next to it to make medicine paste. She wore an emerald green and good gown. Her hair had grown passed her hips now, requiring a cut soon. On her head she wore a simple circlet, nothing extravagant, but it was much like her mother's gold one.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
She began to hum again and paused when she heard a voice.
"It seems time has not changed you, my Lady...nor your lovely voice." She heard Bard say, then Thranduil groaning.
She smiled and turned to see her human friend. His hair was shorter now, with just a bit of grey creeping in. "It seems you shaved that squirrel of a beard off your face." She teased and he nodded.
"Yes...well...when your grandchildren enjoy playing with fireworks, you learn to keep things neat." He chuckled wryly. Thranduil stood beside him, supporting him with one of Bard's arms over his shoulders.
The kettle whistled and she took it off, setting it on a stone plate on her table. "There now, what have you done to yourself?" She asked as Thranduil helped him over to her.
"It's nothing. Really." Bard tried to assure her. She glared at him.
"Strip." She ordered.
"What?!" Bard took a step back and she sighed.
"Your shirt. Strip it off. You know, you're an awful liar...I can smell the blood." She said.
Bard grumbled under his breath, taking off his coat, then his leather tunic and chain mail shirt. His last shirt, a blood stained, white tunic came off and he dropped it with the rest of his upper covering to the floor.
"Happy?" He asked, his hands on his toned hips. He had a few scars on his chest, but she knew the truth.
"He was shot in the back with an arrow from a bandit." Thranduil said smugly. "As well as his right buttock." Thranduil smirked, more than pleased to make himself at home, lounging on her couch as if it were his throne.
Bard went a bit red in the face. "Thank you! So much! Vigorous Spring!" Bard laughed sarcastically and turned to face away from Oriana so she could see the damage.
The arrow in his left shoulder was broken off, as well as the one in his buttock. "Well...I can tell you that you have a fine physique, but I shall have to dig arrow tips out of you...and I shall be seeing your buttocks." She grinned smugly, crossing her arms.
Bard sighed in embarrassment...
***
Bard was laying on his chest on the kitchen table, Oriana had pliers on the arrow tip in his shoulder. Bard was doing his best not to curse. Thranduil was grimacing at his cup of tea.
"Where is you wine?" He asked.
"I don't drink." Oriana replied curtly as she got a better hold on the arrow head.
"Do you not have cooking wine? Cooking rum? Perhaps vodka for sauces...?" He questioned.
Oriana ripped out the arrow head a Bard shouted. "Motherfu-...father! I was going to say father..." He groaned at the end, letting his forehead hit the table.
"So you mean to say that you have no alcohol of any kind at all? Not even good beer? I have low standards, Oriana, and I'm thirsty." Thranduil was getting testy.
"Listen well, Thranduil Orpherion! You shall drink your tea and like it. So help me, Valar, I will shove my sword where the sun does not shine on you!" She growled and he was a bit stunned.
"Very well...damn...excuse me for wanting to enjoy Bard's pain by being inebriated." He mumbled into his cup, taking a sip...He actually liked it.
"What are you two even here for?" She asked as she turned her attention from finishing bandages on Bard's shoulder and looking to his buttock.
"I have given my throne over to my son...Thranduil wished to see the world again...I wanted to grow even older with the elves. Ah!" Bard hissed. "Damn it, be gentle!" He snapped as she stuck her pliers into his flesh to fish for the arrow head.
"Stop acting like a woman, Bard!" Thranduil laughed.
"I've been set on fire, mauled and struck with several arrows...Bard is being a diva...and it's not my fault that this one in barbed." She grumbled the last part. "Now what is your true purpose, Thranduil?" She asked, changing the subject.
Thranduil poured himself more tea. "Thorin Oakenshield never became King...not officially. So, my deal has been met." He said, looking into his cup.
Oriana snapped and tore out the arrow head roughly. "AH!! Damn you, woman!!" Bard cried out and she held a clean cloth to his buttock.
"Excuse me...?" She asked cautiously, her eyes wide.
"You heard me. You are, as of Thorin's decision...betrothed to my son. We were rebuilding Dale, unable to focus on personal matters...until recently." Thranduil smiled, only because of his tea. "Legolas did not refuse when I sent word to him." He shrugged, as if it were supposed to help.
She was on the brink of grabbing scissors and and stabbing Thranduil in the face...she did not want to be married!
