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The trade meeting had been going on for several hours, as it was wont to do when Thranduil was a participant. Normally Thorin could handle himself perfectly fine, especially with his husband and consort at his side. Unfortunately, Bilbo was away in the Iron Hills for the time being and thus unable to keep the dwarf king’s temper in check. Thorin was losing his patience fast.
When Thranduil demanded exorbitant amounts of jewels and gems as payment for his peoples’ export of wine (which wasn’t even that good, really…dwarven ale was much better, and the only reason Thorin even bothered with the stuff was because Bilbo was rather fond of it), that was the last straw.
“Listen, you pointy-eared cur,” Thorin said through gritted teeth, “you are asking far too much of my people for your sub-par fermented juice. I ask that you reconsider your ridiculous demands and kindly bugger off until–”
Then, a very unkingly sound interrupted his little tirade, leaving the entire council room in dead silence.
Thorin Oakenshield had just hiccupped.
The next noise to break the silence was the elven king’s laughter. Thranduil laughed long and hard, his aloof and cold veneer dropping momentarily and replaced with mirth at Thorin’s expense. Bard, at least, was more polite about the whole affair, hiding his chuckles behind his fingerless-gloved hand.
Bright red in the face and seething, Thorin involuntarily let out another hiccup.Thranduil’s laughter intensified tenfold. Finally, the dwarf king had had enough. He rose from the table, the legs of his chair scraping noisily against the stone floor.
“When you are finished acting like a child,” he hiccupped again, “then we can continue this meeting. Until then,” another hiccup interrupted his speech, “I take my leave of you, you immature–” hiccup “–tree hugger.”
With that, Thorin left the council chambers, the sound of Thranduil’s laughter following him out the door.