The delegates from Lothlórien arrived with the setting sun. Ahead of the party rode Haldir and his brothers Rumil and Orophin. Halos appeared to surround them as the evening light played brilliantly in their golden hair.

Thranduil greeted them with the gentle familiarity of old acquaintance, taking a moment to introduce his son before doing the same to Thorin. The most arrogant looking of the three eyed the dwarf king with more then a hint of prejudice, his upper lip curling in distaste. His brothers, though of a similar opinion, ignored Thorin entirely during the introductions.

Thorin, however, didn't give two owl hoots what the tree-shaggers thought of him, and so the introductions passed more or less cordially.

Later, when they were sitting down for dinner at the grand table and Haldir took the seat to the king's left, having found out to his utter contempt that the right was permanently reserved for Thorin. The dwarf king began to take notice of how overly affectionate the golden elf seemed to become, with every goblet of wine he emptied at the table. By the time the feasting smoothly fell into merriment, Thorin was all but grinding his teeth at the constant touches the cursed elf was laying upon his lover. Like he was naught, but a common wench he was free to paw at his leisure.

"Your highness, I must compliment you on these grand festivities. I feel humbled that you should empty your infamous wine cellars in our honour," Haldir drawled. Thranduil waved him off.

"I have hardly emptied my wine cellars, and your company is more then adequate reason to throw a grand celebration."

"I fear a simple thank you will not suffice to express the depth of my gratitude on behalf of my people," persisted the golden elf and leaned in, so as to speak directly into the king's ear. Thorin watched his lover shudder at the cooling sensation of breath on the shell of his ear, and the sight of it made his blood boil. Thranduil's sensitive earlobes were his, god damn it, just like the rest of him. His and no one else's!

"I accept your gratitude, but it is unnecessary Haldir. It is my pleasure to have you here." Thranduil's voice was cordial but reserved. Thorin growled.

"If we were to retire to your quarters, my lord, it can easily become more of one," whispered Haldir, dropping one hand under the table.

Thorin smashed his goblet hard against the wood and stood up, throwing the dainty elven chair to the ground where it shattered dramatically. He pushed his rising lover back into his seat with the palm of one hand; and used the other to grab the scruff of Haldir's tunic and pull him ungracefully, face first into his dinner plate. Thorin then proceeded to drag the struggling elf across the bench, until they were face-to-face, with most of Haldir's torso and naval sprawled awkwardly on the table.

"You do not speak to my lover," he roared, "of fornication before me." Thorin pressed his nose against the cheese-covered nose of his victim. "Because the next time I so much as hear you speaking of him in an impure manner, or Durin forbid see you propositioning him before my very eyes," he hissed, voice dropping dangerously. "I will not hesitate to cut off your balls and feed them to you, elf!" He finished with a hard shake to the elf, and not a moment too soon.

A pair of hands dragged him back and away from the table, and Thorin found the culprit to be a very amused Tauriel. She maintained a gentle hold on him, more for show then any real means of restrain. When he turned to look at her over his shoulder she gave him a playful wink.

Rumil was laughing, while Orophin, scandalized beyond reason, was demanding action be taken against Thorin on behalf of his brother. Said brother had succeeded in dragging himself off the table and proceeded to wipe cream cheese from his nose, all the while glaring ineffectually at the dwarf king.

Thranduil sighed and lowered his challis to the table, his lips twitching just a touch at the right corner, so only his lover could see.

"I do apologise Haldir, but tempers are high and therefore I believe it would be wise to take care of this in the morning. If you will excuse us most kindly, the king and I will retire for the night and we will call a meeting and address this matter first thing tomorrow." Thranduil's voice left no room for argument. He grabbed Thorin by the sleeve of his tunic and dragged him towards their quarters. The tight grip that switched to his wrist and the stretched pace of his walk only meant one thing to the dwarf. Thorin swallowed. Thranduil smirked, feeling the dwarf's pulse skyrocket in anticipation. He had some disciplining to do.

R&R