"Perhaps you are smarter than you give yourself credit. The truth will always fare better than well contrived lies, no matter how well you think them to be practiced. " The elven king regarded the human out of the corner of his eyes, the small spark of respect growing. "If you are willing to learn from your mistakes, then they are not such terrible things at all, and that is a hard lesson to learn for many." He does not ask how Bard came to learn it, or if perhaps he was just one of the few who were inclined that way, but it pleases Thranduil either way.
When Bard, however, refutes his claim of the mortal heart and his knowledge of it, Thranduil turns to listen. The words do nothing but prove his own, the fact that Bard was aware of such things a rarity for sure. So many were more concerned with gold and glory, that they forgot the simpler things. Thranduil himself was not free of such flaws either, he coveted gold more than many an elf. Bard's more simplistic way of looking at this reminded him of... things that had long since been buried. "But many do not understand." The king's voice is quiet, quieter than normal, as he recalls the grief of losing his wife. It was a pain that he never though he would endure, and it was a pain that he had sworn, long ago, to never endure again. He does not know if he can agree with Bard, that knowing is better than not knowing at all. It may be different for elves, as he may never depart from this world as his wife did, may never have anything else but a lifetime of memories and the bitter taste of ash in his mouth.
The king has to shake his head, clear away the thoughts that pull him down and focus on what is at hand. It has been too long since someone has managed to evoke such things in him, and he is nearly put off kilter for a moment. He is put on even more unevevn footing when Bard, in exchange for his council, offers friendship. It was... a strange thing to offer in the eyes of the king. He certainly had not expected such a offer and, in all his years, he did not know how to accept or decline such a thing. There were many who gave their loyalty and love to the king, but precious few who gave their friendship. In fact, he was hard pressed to think of any that would fall under such a claim.
Blinking, Thranduil is silent a moment before he inclines his head, slowly. "Though it is not what I expected, I am glad to enter into a friendship rather than a political agreement, Bard." He lets the other's name hang on his tongue, blue eyes piercing as he looks up. There are so many things about this human that make him question what he believes he knows. Who thinks to ask the fearsome elven king of the woodland realm for friendship Many would say he is not capable of such things, that his heart was burned in dragon fire years ago. And yet...
They simply do not see you.
Once again, the king is left not really knowing what to do, though he does not show it. He does not answer the words that Bard speaks, instead watches the human and tries to figure out what was so different about him compared to so many of the others. He speaks with more wisdom than one of his years should be able, and yet there was still so much joy and life in him, so much fire and will to live. It intrigued the elven king greatly and made it no chore to offer his council and presence for the other. Perhaps it would be beneficial for Thranduil as well.
"It serves you well to speak your mind. You are right, as too much could be lost if it were kept in." Not that Thranduil ever followed such a thing, he was known for speaking scathingly on a whim, but little more. "It is not mortality, it is a wisdom I believe."
Wisdom and something else, though Thranduil does not know which it is that spurs the human to speak in response to his question. The elven king blinks again, watches as Bard turns away to answer and he does not linger on the emotions that momentarily rise up at that. "Is that so? You may be right, my respect is not easily won." Nor is his attention, but Bard seemed rather good at catching that as well.
no subject
When Bard, however, refutes his claim of the mortal heart and his knowledge of it, Thranduil turns to listen. The words do nothing but prove his own, the fact that Bard was aware of such things a rarity for sure. So many were more concerned with gold and glory, that they forgot the simpler things. Thranduil himself was not free of such flaws either, he coveted gold more than many an elf. Bard's more simplistic way of looking at this reminded him of... things that had long since been buried. "But many do not understand." The king's voice is quiet, quieter than normal, as he recalls the grief of losing his wife. It was a pain that he never though he would endure, and it was a pain that he had sworn, long ago, to never endure again. He does not know if he can agree with Bard, that knowing is better than not knowing at all. It may be different for elves, as he may never depart from this world as his wife did, may never have anything else but a lifetime of memories and the bitter taste of ash in his mouth.
The king has to shake his head, clear away the thoughts that pull him down and focus on what is at hand. It has been too long since someone has managed to evoke such things in him, and he is nearly put off kilter for a moment. He is put on even more unevevn footing when Bard, in exchange for his council, offers friendship. It was... a strange thing to offer in the eyes of the king. He certainly had not expected such a offer and, in all his years, he did not know how to accept or decline such a thing. There were many who gave their loyalty and love to the king, but precious few who gave their friendship. In fact, he was hard pressed to think of any that would fall under such a claim.
Blinking, Thranduil is silent a moment before he inclines his head, slowly. "Though it is not what I expected, I am glad to enter into a friendship rather than a political agreement, Bard." He lets the other's name hang on his tongue, blue eyes piercing as he looks up. There are so many things about this human that make him question what he believes he knows. Who thinks to ask the fearsome elven king of the woodland realm for friendship Many would say he is not capable of such things, that his heart was burned in dragon fire years ago. And yet...
They simply do not see you.
Once again, the king is left not really knowing what to do, though he does not show it. He does not answer the words that Bard speaks, instead watches the human and tries to figure out what was so different about him compared to so many of the others. He speaks with more wisdom than one of his years should be able, and yet there was still so much joy and life in him, so much fire and will to live. It intrigued the elven king greatly and made it no chore to offer his council and presence for the other. Perhaps it would be beneficial for Thranduil as well.
"It serves you well to speak your mind. You are right, as too much could be lost if it were kept in." Not that Thranduil ever followed such a thing, he was known for speaking scathingly on a whim, but little more. "It is not mortality, it is a wisdom I believe."
Wisdom and something else, though Thranduil does not know which it is that spurs the human to speak in response to his question. The elven king blinks again, watches as Bard turns away to answer and he does not linger on the emotions that momentarily rise up at that. "Is that so? You may be right, my respect is not easily won." Nor is his attention, but Bard seemed rather good at catching that as well.