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"Some hot news for those interested in the lives of Britain's nobility now, as the Lady Catherine 'Kíli' Durin - granddaughter of the Duke of Erebor and a prominent member of the scandalous Durin family - has been seen on multiple occasions that appear to be dates with a currently unidentified man. The lack of identify for Lady Kíli's beau suggests that he himself is not nobility nor a member of the gentry, an unusual precedent for a member of such an ancient family. Both the Dean of Oxford university - where the young Lady Kíli has been studying - and the Durin's spokesman are both unavailable to comment on this develop-"
Éowyn turned the television off with a huff.
"I thought the BBC was supposed to be news channel, not gossip central. Christ Almightly." She groused, throwing the remote back onto the couch and moving to pick up the discard tea cups, "And honestly Tau can't you even finish one cup?"
"I don't want to swallow the leaves!" Tauriel pouted from in front of the computer where she was looking for any articles about Kíli and Bard.
"You hardly get any leaves from bags!"
"Will the pair of you be quiet?" Arwen hissed, "Kíli finally asleep."
The blonde and the redhead traded guilty glances. The (mentally) youngest of their group had sat up the entire night staring at her phone, worrying over her boyfriend of five months and worrying about how her uncle was reacting. Arwen had finally taken action at five o'clock that morning, tearing the phone from Kíli's loosening grip and convinced her take some sleeping tablets - to help her sleep. Now she was curled up on the couch under the carefully handmade quilts that belonged to Éowyn's aunt, cuddling the hoodie Bard had given her.
"Has anyone heard from Bard this morning?" Arwen asked, slipping into the role that she was used to: the organiser, the caregiver.
"Faramir texted me saying that he left early this morning, he guesses to the archery range considering that his bow was gone as well." Éowyn called from the kitchen, "And then some of his army friends showed up looking for him, so we can be sure he isn't alone."
"Why is it, that whenever you get angry, you always want to shoot things?" Charles Faulkner asked the lone archer - though he made sure that he, Ethan and Jacob were far out of shooting range when he asked it.
Charles watched as his friend's shoulders heaved and sagged. When Bard turned to face them, he winced at the sight of the other's dark eyes turned swollen and red.
"How did you know I was here?" Bard asked roughly, reaching for another arrow.
"You're housemates told us you'd probably be here." Ethan grinned, his slight American twang jarringly loud in the quiet range, "They care about you as well - you do realise that right?"
"Ethan," Charles effected a stern tone, seeing Bard's jaw set, "leave it for now yeah."
Ethan pouted, but did indeed stop that particular vein of inquiry. Jacob decided to fill up the silence.
"C'mon, I was promised a proper pub lunch in exchange for driving...and I think we're going to need alcohol for this conversation."
--:--
"So, not only did you manage to land possibly one of the most innocent, virginal girls in Britain - but you managed to get the one who's family are mental." Jacob summed up before stuffing a gravy ladened chip into his mouth.
"Thanks." Bard said bitterly, taking another drink of his pint, "Like I hadn't already figured that out."
"It could be worse though, right?" Ethan asked, ever the optimist, "I mean, she could have secretly been a stripper."
Jacob and Charles choked on their food. Bard's scowl intensified.
"Moving on," Charles hastily broke in, "have you spoken to her today?"
Bard shrunk in on himself, his fingers flexing around his pint glass and he almost seem sheepish. Jacob shared a concerned look with Charles.
"Oi, Ethan, lets go get some more drinks yeah?" Jacob nudged the half-American-half-Brit, jerking his chin towards the bar. Ethan went to protest, but quickly cottoned onto what Jake was trying to hint at, and quickly fled the table. Charles rolled his eyes at the pair and turned to Bard.
"I'm fine Charlie." The elder of the pair mumbled, "I just need some time..."
"Time for what? Time to get angry and possibly fuck your arm up again?" Charles asked, grabbing Bard's chin to force him to look up, "Time to sink into that god-awful grimness you get sometimes? To isolate yourself from everyone that cares about you?" Charles forced himself to stop, as he could feel his voice getting louder, and Bard would never forgive him for airing his issues out amongst strangers.
"...I just don't understand why she didn't tell me." Bard broke away from Charles' gaze, "I've told her so much about me but she's kept this massive secret..."
Charles picked up his own pint.
"I can kind of understand why she didn't want to tell you straight away," He held up a finger when Bard went to protest, "I mean; would you have treated her the same? Would you have been willing to be with her knowing what came with her? Let's be honest mate you're no Kate Middleton. I don't really blame her for wanting to try to have a normal relationship for a while, the Durins are mental enough as it is..."
"If nine and a half months classes as 'a while'." Bard grumbled, but the tension seemed to go out of his shoulders. Charles smirked.
"You really like this one don't you?" He asked, fondness creeping into his voice.
Bard grinned shyly and the tips of his ears began to turn red, but before he could respond a strange noise made them both look up. A short, plump, middle aged man wearing different shades of grey and a matching plaid cap stood in front them, gawping at Bard.
"Cor blimey," the man breathed, "You're him! You're the bloke that nabbed Kíli Durin!"
Bard began to tense up again and his face began twisting into a mask of anger.
"Mate can you bugger off?" Charles asked, wondering where the hell Jacob and Ethan had gotten to. Unfortunately, the man didn't seem to listen.
"'Ere, have you seen 'er tits yet? Cos I know them 'ladies'-" he actually used air quotes "-are meant to be all refined and shit, but I bet she's really gagging for it-"
Charles only just managed to grab Bard as he lunged out of his seat, left hand curled into a fist. Although he wasn't actually hit, the man stumbled backwards - right into Jacob, who's face a carefully blank.
"I think you've had a few too many mate - why don't you make your way home?"
The man went to protest, but quickly realised that he would not win a fight against three young men who were at least seven inches taller than him, so he scuttled away as quietly as he had appeared. Jacob breathed a sigh of relief and Charles forced Bard back into his seat. Jake placed two fresh pints on the table.
"Ethan should be bringing the others over soon. So lets have a few more then head off, yeah?"
Three hours - and more than a few drinks - later, Bard was stood outside of Kíli and Tauriel's, trying to find the courage to walk up to the door. Charlie, Jake and Ethan had refused to take him home, instead pushing him out of the car when they reached the road Kíli's house was on. Why had he told Charlie the address again?
He let his fingers slide across the top of the gate, remembering everything that Charlie had said earlier in the day and shoved the gate open, wincing when it squeaked loudly. A light flickered on behind the door and before Bard could even think about running the front door opened and he saw a familiar redhead standing there.
Tauriel stared him down
"I'm glad you're here, sort of."
Bard raised an eyebrow. He was honestly surprised that she's hadn't fired an arrow at him already. He cautiously made his way down the path until he stopped on the threshold.
"Kíli's in the kitchen with one of her cousins," Tauriel fluttered a hand in the air, "she'll be glad to see you."
Bard nodded, smiling tightly. Tauriel fled back up the stairs.
There was a soft light and soft murmuring coming from the kitchen, and as Bard got closer he managed to make out clear words.
"...Thorin's not happy lass." A Scottish burr reached his ears as he gripped the door handle.
"Thorin's hardly ever happy with what I do Balin, what would he start now?"
"Have you heard from your young man? Or has he fled under the pressure?" A tinge of bitterness entered the Scot's voice. Bard frowned (he'd been doing that a lot recently) and opened the kitchen door.
Kíli was stood by the kettle, wearing one of his t-shirts and pyjama shorts while her hair piled atop her hair. Sat at the table was an elderly man with a shock of white hair in an expensive looking suit.
"Bard." Kíli breathed, a smile beginning to stretch across her face, sparking one to form on his own, most of his remaining anger disintegrating as he crossed the kitchen to pull her into his arms and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Kíli's arms curled around his waist and they stood there for a minute, before a cough broke them apart. The old man was looking at them with an eyebrow raised.
"Oh umm, Bard this is my cousin Balin. He deals with all of the media stuff and...yeah." Kíli flushed slightly, starting to move away from him again. Bard tangled their fingers together with one hand and held his other out for the man to shake.
"Honoured to meet you sir. Bard Girionson, Kíli's boyfriend."
Kíli practically melted into his side in relief and Balin smiled and took the offered hand.
"Pleasure to meet you as well laddie," he said, "I suppose we best get to work then? This media shitstorm has already gotten out of control."