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Elves were a pain in the backside, Bard decided. As the newly-appointed King of Dale, he'd been having regular meetings with Thranduil for a 'crash course in vocational kingship', as Sigrid had called it. Bain had just frowned at her and walked away. He hadn't had a summons from the Elvenking for a month now (well, twenty-seven days, but who was counting?), and he was almost at the point of packing his bags and going to see the King anyway. They'd developed a friendship of sorts, he supposed, over the months since they'd become equals - although Bard would never consider himself as such.
Of course, by friendship he meant, he put up with Thranduil's mood swings and dealt with his shit, but that was okay. He enjoyed spending time with the elf, even if he was a stupid alpha. Bard was thankful he hadn't been attracted to anyone in a very long time; it meant he hadn't had a heat, so no one knew his dynamic. They probably all assumed he was just a beta, which was just fine by him. He just decided to resolutely ignore the pangs of lust and brief waves of slick brought on by salacious thoughts of Thranduil.
He sighed frustratedly and rolled over in his too-soft, too-large bed. He'd been very happy with his hay filled mattress in Laketown, but apparently a king had to have a mattress stuffed with down or whatever the hell it was. Whatever it was, he hated it. A lot of the time he just went down and sat in his 'study'. He wasn't tired. He wasn't comfortable, and he was bored. Getting up, he pulled on the nearest pair of breeches and some sort of overcoat. He grinned when he remembered the horrified look on Thranduil's face when he'd called it that.
"It's a dressing gown, Bard!" he'd exclaimed, mortified.
"Well, whatever it is, I don't need it."
Thranduil scoffed. "Fool man."
Thranduil was hilarious, when they were alone or he was drunk enough not to care about the presence of his guards. After the first time he'd stayed in Mirkwood, he'd left the Dorwinion to the King, because another drop in the whole of his lifetime might just make his stomach turn inside out.
Bard walked quietly to his study, checking in on the kids on the way. Tilda was cuddled up with all of the soft toys and bears the elves had made her. Tauriel once said that children were so rare among elves that she was bound to be doted on and treated like the princess she was. Bain was half hanging off his bed, mouth open. At least he was comfortable, Bard thought as he rolled his eyes. Walking a little further down the hall, candelight was spilling from Sigrid's door, left slightly ajar as always. He poked his head in, seeing her reading with a pinched scowl on her face. She looked up when he stepped in.
"Can't sleep either?" she asked him, setting the book in front of her.
"No, I was going to go and see if there was any work to be done, if you want to join me."
Sigrid scoffed slightly but still smiled. "Da, I think I'm too old to be sitting on your knee while you work."
"If you say so. What are you reading?" he asked, sitting on her bed.
"That book King Thranduil gave me," she said with a sigh, turning it to show him.
"You've still got a few weeks yet, Sig. Try not to worry, okay? Easier said than done, I know."
"Were you scared?" she asked quietly, focusing her eyes on a spot of her covers.
"When I presented? Darling, I was scared shitless," he told her with a grin. "I couldn't eat, because I was terrified of my da being disappointed."
"How did he react? When you find out you were an omega?"
"He was annoyed, I suppose is the word for it. Never punished me as some people do with their kids. Never tried to beat me into being an alpha, or even a beta."
Sigrid sighed in frustration when he mentioned that. "Whatever I present as, I know I'm going to be fighting for omega rights."
Bard smiled and kissed her forehead. "You might end up being Queen, you never know."
They were quiet for a few moments, just... sitting. Bard treasured these moments with Sigrid. She reminded him so much of their mother. She had been the pinnacle of all creation, in his eyes. They met, courted and mated in the space of only a couple months. Sigrid came along not long after that.
"Why doesn't anyone know you're an omega?" Sigrid asked quietly. He was kind of surprised she had never asked before, but she was old enough to understand now.
"It's just easier that way. The Master hated me anyway, I didn't need to give him anymore excuses. Remember what he did to that omega about five years ago? You were quite young."
"Dad, I was thirteen, but yes... I remember. I guess that makes sense."
"I never showed much when we had you so it was just easier not to tell anyone."
"You carried me?" she asked, her eyes going wide.
"You didn't know that?"
"I always just... assumed it was Ma, to be honest. She carried Bain, right?"
Bard nodded. "Apparently I only have girls."
Sigrid laughed and put her bookmark in place before setting the tome on the floor. "Thanks, Da. I think I'm going to try and sleep now. I'll see you in the morning."
"Goodnight, love."
He kissed her forehead and headed for the door, blowing out the main of her candles. He smiled at her for a moment before leaving her be and shutting the door behind him. There was a slight commotion from down the hallway, voices in hissed whispers coming his way. He walked down to meet them, suddenly coming face-to-face with a rain-soaked Tauriel and a flustered Hilda.
"Sorry, Bard, I couldn't stop her," Hilda said quickly.
"It's okay, Hilda. Go back to bed, it's okay." Hilda nodded and walked away, sparing a venomous glare in Tauriel's direction. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Captain?"
"You need to come to the Greenwood. Now," she told him, flicking away a raindrop from her cheek.
"Why? It's the middle of the night. I haven't received a summons for a month, either."
"Because the king is threatening war with Dain. He won't even listen to Legolas. And, Valar, his moods are unbearable," Tauriel groaned.
"Wait, I'm still caught up on war with the dwarves. Why?"
"You know what? I don't even know. No one knows! He's gone insane."
"Then why are you coming to get me?"
"He can't execute you, so you might be able to slap some sense into him."
Bard stared at her in silence for a moment. "You have to be kidding me."
"No. This is vital for the peace of Middle-Earth, Bard. You have to come, please."
He sighed in frustration. "Let me get dressed. Will you tell Sigrid for me? She should still be awake."
Tauriel nodded and he walked away quickly, grumbling to himself about stupid elves, and stupid alphas, and stupid kings. He would never understand Thranduil. Throwing on some clothes - Thranduil could just shut up if he was going to complain, he looked around his room briefly before leaving. He heard Tauriel and Sigrid laughing quietly in her room.
"I'm ready to go, Tau," he sighed, messing with a thread on his sleeve. "Am I riding alone, or are you going to stop flirting with my daughter?"
The pair of them went suspiciously pink. He frowned, storing that information away for later.
"Galion is waiting in the stables. I can stay with the kids, if you want. Help Tilda with her braids, and whatnot."
He looked at her for a moment. "That would be... Nice. Your room is still as you left it. Hilda will be keeping an eye on my daughter's innocence."
"Da!" Sigrid squeaked, hiding her face behind her hands. He noted she didn't deny it though.
"I'll be back as soon as I can, darling. Look after Bain and Tilda, okay?"
Sigrid nodded as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. He went and kissed Tilda and Bain. Bain grumbled in his sleep and rolled over.
Hurrying down to the stables, he grabbed his coat, pulling up his hood. Thankfully the rain had eased off. He briefly greeted Galion as he mounted his horse and the pair of them set off. Thankfully it never took long and, even in the dark, Bard had started to learn the twists and turns of their route through the forest. They had to go fast in case the remaining ungoliants descended; they still lingered in the forest despite their nest being cleared. It couldn't have been more than two hours before they were going into the stables and setting the horses to feed and rest. Thranduil's mount, as always, wasn't there; the grooms were always frustrated about not being able to call the Elk as Thranduil did.
"So what exactly is going on?" Bard asked Galion as the pair of them took the winding staircases from the stables to the entrance hall.
"My Lord, I haven't a clue. The King has been... different, in a way I haven't seen since..." Galion trailed off, as if unsure what he was allowed to say.
"Since when?"
"Since before the Lady of the Forest died, my Lord."
Bard frowned at that. Thranduil was threatening war with Erebor because he was having a bad week? Even the Elvenking wasn't that melodramatic, Bard assured himself.
"King Thranduil has spent most of his time within his chambers, which is very rare for him."
"What about the situation with the dwarves?"
Galion laughed softly. "Yesterday he received an invitation to Dain's official coronation - as I'm sure you will too - and since then he has been talking with the war council. Legolas demanded Tauriel and I come to get you."
"Why didn't Legolas come himself? When I received his letter telling me he'd be coming back for a while, I was under the impression he wanted to see me as soon as he could."
"Oh, uh... The Prince's mate is being very... protective."
"He found a mate? That's wonderful!" Bard laughed with a grin.
"He is heavy with child, too."
Bard stopped in his tracks, his eyes going wide. "Legolas is an omega?"
"Of course," Galion frowned. "You didn't know?"
"I... No, I didn't. Anyway, let's go and see the King."
Galion nodded and led on. Legolas was an omega? He'd had no idea. Of course, he should have taken into consideration the fact that the differences between elves and men also included their prejudices. A human omega would never be taught to fight like Legolas did. Bard had been lucky he was allowed to turn to archery. He shook the thought from his mind and focused on why he was here anyway. He recognised the hallways as the path to Thranduil's personal chambers.
When they got to the vast double doors, Galion shared a few words with the guards. Bard only caught a bit of it; his Sindarin was still rudimentary. The guardsman nodded to Galion and bowed his head to Bard in respect. He was glad that even the elves treated him at least remotely like he was just a normal man (even if he was coming to see the King in the small hours of the morning). They opened the doors for him and let him walk in. Galion didn't follow.
"So what's this I hear about war?" he said into the empty rooms. "And why am I not invited?"
There was quiet. Thranduil would have heard him speak. Maybe he was sleeping. How ironic it would be if he had come in the few moments that Thranduil actually slept. He stopped and frowned, sniffing slightly. The scent of Thranduil lingered in the air, so he was probably still here. Checking the study, Bard frowned further when he saw that was empty. All of the other rooms were too. A sudden soft noise caught his attention, drawing his eyes to a door he hadn't even seen. It was patterned to hide with the wall. He went over slowly. What if Thranduil was sleeping? He sighed slightly and pushed the door open, freezing in his place.
The room stank of sex and Thranduil. The smell of pure alpha was thick in the air, holding him like a cradle. A cradle of sex and sweat and arousal and slick and-- what? Shit, that was definitely slick beginning to leak. He took a shaky breath, unable to pull his hand away from the handle. Thankfully, Thranduil wasn't in here either. His deep burgundy bed sheets were stained with evidence of what made the room smell so. Bard felt a sudden twinge in his heart and sniffed deeply. He couldn't smell another but, then again, he could totally get drunk on the smell of Thranduil right now.
A door on the other side of the room opened, revealing a very naked, very beautiful, very alpha Thranduil. The pair of them froze further.
"Hi," Bard said stupidly, unable to take his eyes away from the elf as a fresh wave of slick leaked out.
Thranduil's nostrils flared and in an instant he was on Bard, shoving his face into his neck and breathing deeply.
"Rachon le," Thranduil whispered, his accent coming through thickly. "I just got over the last wave, damn it."
Bard couldn't speak, his throat tight with the need to touch this beautiful creature in front of him, that was still very naked and plastered all over him. Thranduil groaned.
"Oh, Bard, you smell so good," Thranduil moaned, licking a line from his collarbone to his ear. "So good..."
"Thran-- What--" was all he could get out with the way his body was trembling. Oh fuck, he was so wet already.
"Rut," he answered shortly, still sniffing and pawing at Bard.
Bard did his best not to react. This was his friend. This was a king. A terrifying, thrill-inducing, beautiful, funny, ancient king. But still a king. His thoughts blurred all into one as Thranduil touched him more. There was a flush coming over him, one he hadn't felt for years. A decade.
Thranduil was suddenly gone. He'd pushed himself away and was running his hands through his slightly dripping loose hair.
"I'm so sorry, Bard, I shouldn't have-- You don't... Please leave, Bard," Thranduil said, sounding like he'd been punched even as he said it.
Bard whimpered, tightening his grip on the door to hold himself up on his trembling knees. "Alpha, please," he whispered.
Thranduil froze where he was, staring at him in disbelief. "You're a--"
"Please, alpha, I need you," Bard whispered, feeling his slick soak into his trousers.
Thranduil's nostrils flared again and he moaned, pulling at his hair as he caught scent of the slick leaking steadily from him. "Bard, you don't--"
"Alpha... Thran, please. Please, I need you. I want you."
"Are you sure?" Thranduil asked, looking at him with dark eyes.
"How are you even talking right now?" Bard almost scoffed as he reached out for the elf.
Thranduil was on him again, crushing their mouths together in an almost violent kiss. Bard clawed at his naked back, the flawless skin as smooth as he imagined it would be, but so hot. It was like Thranduil was burning up in front of him. Bard was hot too, he had to admit. Oh, gods he was slipping into heat. The first time in a decade and he was going to heating because of a rutting elvish King.
"You've no idea how long I've wanted you, Bard," Thranduil growled against his neck, dragging his teeth along the column of his throat. "And to find out you're an omega... Valar, I need you right now..."
"When..." Bard couldn't even speak, his voice lost to whimpering and mewls. "Last time..."
"I don't know. Years."
'Years' for Thranduil could very well actually be millennia. Bard struggled enough with a decade, but for that long... No wonder he'd been acting like he had.
Bard opened his mouth to try and say as such - try being the operative word - when Thranduil grabbed at his ass, squeezing and pulling them harder together, ripping a low moan from his throat. He whined, clawing at Thranduil wherever he could reach--his ass, his back, his shoulders, his hair. Oh gods, his hair was amazing. Soft and long and impossible to tangle, it seemed. The only actual words he could say were all horribly salacious. "Need you in me," and "Oh, fuck me" were just some of the things that actually registering.
He gasped in surprise when the floor was gone from beneath him, Thranduil's hand holding him up easily by his thighs. The display of strength was such an alpha dominance play that Bard would usually scoff, but now he just moaned and tried to rub his hips against the elf's firm stomach. The second his back was on the bed, Thranduil was crawling onto him and literally ripping his clothes off. Bard couldn't even care. Thranduil would no doubt replace them with something he deemed more kingly. But then there were hands on his bare skin and his whole body was jackrabbiting up off the bed. Thranduil pinned him down with one hand against his sternum and used the other to spread his legs. With a growl, he pulled his hair to one side and leant forward.
Bard sobbed in surprise, clutching at the head between his thighs. Thranduil's tongue was freezing against his burning hole. The king's appreciative growl made Bard's chest swell with a sense of pride. Little kitten licks had him pushing down to try and get more of anything, more touch, more pleasure, more anything. Then Thranduil gripped his hips and pulled him onto his tongue, making him moan and arch his spine.
"You taste even better than you smell, Bard," Thranduil growled as he crawled over him to kiss him, the taste of his own slick all over his tongue.
"Please," Bard whispered, clutching at Thranduil's shoulders.
"What?" Thranduil asked, kissing more softly along his neck, which was no doubt turning into a mass of hickeys already.
"Please, I need you to fuck me, knot me, please, Thran..."
"Oh, Valar... Yes," Thranduil growled, moving back down to his hole.
"I don't need it, just need your cock, please."
It was Thranduil's turn to groan now, resting his head briefly against Bard's stomach. Bard gasped in surprise when he was suddenly flipped onto his front and his hips pulled up to present himself to Thranduil easily.
"So pretty, meleth-nin..."
Bard didn't even have time to try and work out what that meant before Thranduil was crowding him into the mattress and pushing in. He was so wet that there was hardly any friction, even without preparation. He moaned loudly throwing his head back against Thranduil's shoulder and gripping his forearm. He could feel Thranduil's shuddering breath against his neck and one arm go around his waist to pull him even closer.
"Oh, Bard..." he breathed, kissing across his shoulder blades. "You feel so good... Le bain..."
"Please, Thran, please... Move, please," he whispered, unable to stop his fingernails from digging in to the elf's arm.
Thranduil did as he asked, rocking his hips slowly at first. It lasted only a moment before his thrusts turned fast and hard and vicious, and everything that Bard needed. Bard pushed back to meet every thrust, quickly getting closer, but he knew he wouldn't be able to come - no matter how close he was - until Thranduil knotted him.
"Going to knot you so good, Bard," Thranduil growled against his skin, promising it with a sharp thrust against his prostate. "Breed you, and everyone will see you stuffed with my child."
Bard moaned, surprised, at Thranduil's words, burying his face in the covers that smelled so perfectly of Thranduil.
"My King," Bard gasped out, lifting his head for Thranduil.
That was it for the elf apparently. He pushed his knot into Bard's hole and buried his teeth hard in his throat. Bard screamed as he came, unable to help him. Thranduil growled happily at how loud he was. Neither of them heard the commotion outside until the door burst open and the guards came in. Thranduil growled viciously and possessively at him, and they were gone, the door slamming shut behind them. Bard chuckled tiredly, collapsing onto the bed, moaning slightly when it pulled on Thranduil's knot. Thranduil pulled him close again and rolled them onto their sides before awkwardly pulling the covers over them.
"What's so funny?" Thranduil grumbled against his ear, nuzzling behind it.
"This... Everything..." He laughed slightly again, and even Thranduil huffed out a little laugh. "So, war with the dwarves, hm?"
"Go to sleep, Bard."
Bard laughed and did as he was told.
Bard awoke to a slow grinding against his ass and hot breathing in his ear. He moaned slightly, opening his eyes to see where he was. Thranduil's room. Shit, it hadn't been a dream. He was actually going through a heat with a rutting Elvenking. Said King growled against his neck.
"Bard..."
"Morning to you too," he gasped, moaning. "We should - ah - talk about this."
"Later," Thranduil promised with a decisive roll of his hips.
Bard moaned again and nodded. "Later's good."
He turned his head and grabbed Thranduil's hair to kiss him. It was already going to be horrifically embarrassing afterwards, why not go all out? Thranduil groaned happily and nipped at his lips before sucking on his tongue. When Bard pulled away to gasp for air, Thranduil rolled onto his back with Bard on top of him. Bard whined, wishing he could see Thranduil, kiss him. The elf pulled him down against his chest and started fucking up into him in earnest.
The heat started to wash over Bard again and all he could focus on, all he wanted, was Thranduil's cock moving in him. He managed to grind his hips back against him to get him even deeper. They both groaned, arching together slightly. It had been so long since Bard had been fucked, let alone been through heat, that he was close again in only a couple of minutes, but Thranduil was right there with him, knotting him suddenly and they both came with a moan.
When the hormones began to lift slightly (only temporary, he knew), he realised last night's come was now dry on his stomach, joined by his recent load. He was sweaty and disgusting, but Thranduil couldn't keep his hands and mouth off him.
"So... This is really happening?" he asked breathlessly.
Thranduil just hummed in response, kissing happily along Bard's shoulder. After a while he decided to reply with words. "It seems so."
"This isn't... weird?"
"What's strange is that it didn't happen sooner. Valar, that sounds presumptuous..."
Bard snorted. "Yeah, it does. You meant what you said?"
"About wanting you? Gods, yes. I didn't realise at first; I haven't been with anyone since-- since my wife," he said quietly, his voice catching in his throat.
"Me neither," Bard whispered, lacing his fingers through Thranduil's where they lay on his stomach. "You need to stop knotting me where I can't see you."
Thranduil smiled against Bard's hair and nodded. "Alright."
"How long have you been in rut?" Bard asked, closing his eyes against the brightness of the room's candles.
"A week now."
"A week?" Bard exclaimed, trying to turn around to look at him which left them both groaning and Thranduil holding him still easily. "How is that even possible?"
"The physician said that because it's been so long, it might last longer. Thankfully it's no more intense."
Bard stayed quiet, considering this. The thrum of heat was in his veins, his bones, and he was just hoping he wouldn't have a long heat. They were hell, from what he could remember at least, and he had kids. He could hardly just leave them for a week. He sighed slightly.
"Don't fret. I've never known an omega's heat to be so easily triggered," Thranduil remarked.
To be honest, neither had he. "It's never happened before."
"Something to look into when it's over," Thranduil murmured sleepily, nuzzling into Bard's hair again.
Bard just nodded, letting himself drift off eventually.
And that was how it went for six days. By the second, Thranduil's rut was over. Bard was terrified that Thranduil would kick him out now that he had no use for him, but he didn't. He looked after him in a way that no one ever had before, not even his wife. He would bathe him, feed him, fuck him, but now that his rut was over, he could take it slowly and make Bard fall apart on his tongue and his fingers, make him pass out without ever having knotted him.
There were lovebites and hickeys all over his body, and Thranduil's own was torn up with bite marks and scratches. As the waves of heat grew further and further apart, they talked. About anything and everything. Whether it was Elvish customs, their children or how annoying dwarves were, there was always something to talk about, and in the brief lapses of conversation the silence was nice. Companionable, happy. Bard would lie against Thranduil's side with his head pillowed against his shoulders, tracing the scars all over his body once Thranduil have finally given in to show him, but never the one on his face. Never that one. As much as Bard begged and promised and pleaded, Thranduil would refuse, softening the blow with a soft kiss.
That was how they were now. Bard could no longer feel the heat in his body, but he didn't want to tell Thranduil. He didn't want to leave. He was happy here, with the King. There were emotions involved now that he didn't want to name, didn't even want to think about. He couldn't... He hadn't felt this for so long that he was terrified to lose it before it was even his.
"Can't believe I never knew you were an omega," Thranduil mumbled to himself.
Bard smiled slightly. "It would have been impossible not to know you were an alpha." He strengthened his point by burying his face in the elf's neck and breathing deeply, every inch of his scent pure alpha.
"You smell much better than you did." At Bard's affronted expression, Thranduil rambled on quickly. "I mean, that is to say, it smells like the heat has passed. You're a lot more relaxed."
Bard forced a slight smile and nodded. They were quiet. Was Thranduil going to shove him from the bed now? The bed he could so happily live in for the rest of his life.
"What troubles you, meleth e-guilen?" Thranduil asked quietly, stroking his hand down Bard's arm.
"Nothing, it's fine," he answered quickly. Too quickly, but Thranduil didn't press. He just nodded slightly.
Nothing more was said on the matter.
It had been a few months since that week, and Bard had hardly seen Thranduil. That was okay, Tauriel visited regularly. When Sigrid had presented as an omega, Tauriel had come and asked his permission to court her. Bard had blinked in surprise and just nodded. The pair of them spent a lot of time together, traipsing through the Greenwood, visiting the sights of Dale, or even just sailing on the lake. Sigrid was happy, that was all that mattered. Tauriel was respectful, always putting things past him before she suggested them to Sigrid. Tilda was jealous, but Bain was indifferent, but turning up his nose when the new couple were being romantic.
Bard's life had been... difficult, he supposed. There was nothing from Thranduil, and Tauriel had no suggestions or ideas on that front. He'd had to make up an emergency political situation to explain his week long stay with the elves. Whenever some of them came by, they gave him knowing looks and winks, but never said anything. They didn't treat him any differently, and the people of Dale were none the wiser. He hadn't talked about it with Thranduil at all, or what they would do afterwards. It simply a shared heat. Who was he kidding? It was the best damn heat of his entire life. Even with his wife he'd never felt so cared for or sated or... anything. He'd long ago admitted to himself that he was in love with Thranduil.
He sighed in frustration and threw down the cushion he'd been trying to arrange on the sofa. He turned around and jumped slightly when he saw Tauriel standing in the doorway looking bemused.
"What?" he snapped before he could stop himself.
"You're nesting."
"I am not! I-- What?" he asked suddenly, her words only just registering.
"You're nesting. Is everything okay?"
He sighed again and dropped onto the sofa (which did greatly resembled a nest). "No," he grumbled.
"Is this about Thranduil?"
"Yes," he whispered. There was no point in denying it.
Tauriel nodded and came to sit next to him, putting his arms around him. "Legolas would be here if Aragorn would let him leave their nest."
Bard shook his head. "He had a baby last week, he shouldn't be going anywhere."
"And neither should you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He frowned and looked up at her.
"You're pregnant, Bard. I had Galion come by the other night and do a test."
Bard froze, running through all of his behaviours from over the past few months. Changes in appetite, nausea, mood swings, fatigue, the fucking nesting. A sudden sob escaped and he turned to curl around Tauriel, who held him close and rocking him gently as he cried. Her alpha scent soothed him slightly, but it was nothing like Thranduil's, apart from the unique elven smell to it. Eventually, he fell asleep from pure exhaustion.
When he woke, it was dark and a warm body was against his back. He huffed a sleepy breath and rubbed his itchy eyes.
"Tauriel..." he murmured to get her attention.
"She's asleep," a deep voice said against his shoulder. Bard tensed. That definitely wasn't Tauriel. "Go back to sleep, Bard."
He didn't move, couldn't even breathe. He couldn't be here...
"Thranduil...?" he whispered hopefully.
"I'm here, muin-nin," Thranduil whispered, kissing his neck softly.
"Why?"
"Tauriel said you were very ill, I came as fast as I could. How are you feeling?"
"Fine, but... why... You didn't..."
"I didn't think you'd want to see me after your heat," Thranduil admitted quietly.
Bard slowly rolled over to face the elf holding him close. He swallowed hard, trying to phrase a response in his head.
"Le melin," Bard whispered, having picked up the words from Tauriel.
Thranduil tensed slightly before his whole body sagged with relief and he kissed him firmly.
"Guren min gaim lín," Thranduil whispered. "I love you too, Bard."
"I'm not ill," he said suddenly, watching Thranduil's confused blink. "I'm pregnant."
The Elvenking was silent for a moment before he burst out laughing happily and kissed Bard again, wrapping his arms around him firmly.
"We're having a baby?" Thranduil asked, his eyes beginning to water.
Bard nodded. "I suppose I'll have to tell everyone that I'm an omega now."
And he did, and everyone took it well. Anyone who didn't was silenced with a single glare from Thranduil and any of the elves in their company.