The new King of Dale wasn't quite sure what to expect when he'd been told that there was a visitor waiting for him in his "throne room". However, he was fairly certain that he had not been expecting over six feet of a strange man, carrying a decent sized travel bag over his shoulder. As it was, that was exactly who Bard had in front of him, the two men standing across from one another.

Bard watched with thinly veiled curiosity as his visitor bowed before him. "My King," the stranger said, something about the way the words rolled off of his tongue stirring something in Bard's memory. As he stood, the stranger gave Bard a small smile. "I am called Riken and have come to seek rest from your people for a few days."

The king of Dale studied the man's - Riken's - face for a few moments, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. "Have we met before? I am not known to forget a face."

"I assure you, my lord," Riken began, a sort of secret smile on his face. "I have never been to the city of New Dale before today."

The former bargeman felt as if he had just been told a half-truth, but was willing to let it slide. "Very well. I shall have a room set up for your convenience. If you would desire," Bard continued. "I would be glad to give you a tour of the city, so that you do not get lost during your stay."

Riken bowed his head to Bard. "Thank you, my lord. I would very much appreciate such time to accompany you through your city." He heaved his bag back up onto his shoulder.

"Will you not allow me to take your burden from you?" Riken looked back at Bard, a slightly wary look in the visitor's eyes. "No doubt you've traveled a great distance to reach Dale and are very tired from your journey," the king said, watching Riken for anything unusual.

Though, if Riken was pretending, then he was an excellent actor, for Bard's guest merely shook his head, a grateful look on his face. "I thank you for the offer, my lord. However, I have traveled this far carrying my belongings. I do not believe it will do me any harm to carry them to the room you are so generously providing me with."

Bard nodded his head, understanding the other man's pride. "Very well." He waved his hand for a nearby guard, who had been watching the exchange out of the corner of his eye. "Have a room prepared for our guest, the one down the hall from mine," Bard said. The guard nodded before hurrying away down a hallway, presumably to go recruit a servant or two to ensure that the room was prepared.

Riken turned back to Bard, the taller man's expression unreadable. "My lord, I must protest," the visitor began, stopping when Bard held up a hand.

"I am not one to leave my guests unattended. I have long since learned the benefits of a gracious host," Bard added, watching Riken for a reaction. "I would have offered a room closer to my own. However, my children represent what little I have left in this world."

His visitor opened his mouth to reply but was cut short by the guard's return. "The room is ready for Master Riken," the man said, looking directly at Bard.

Again, Bard nodded his head, this time directing the gesture to the guard. "Thank you." Bard turned his head back toward Riken, the taller man shifting his bag on his shoulder. "Shall we?" The king gestured forward, and Riken followed him down the hallway that the guard had returned from.

Once Bard had ensured that he was comfortable with the room and left, Riken took a moment to simply relax, leaning against the door briefly before taking a moment to look at the room, stretching his arms into the air as he did. He checked the door to make sure that it was in fact locked before he dropped the glamour surrounding him, letting out a heavy sigh as he did.

He took a moment to double check his appearance in the full body mirror provided in his room, his fingers finding comfort in the reappearance of his hair, even if it was in a braid to keep it out of the way.

After all, Thranduil hadn't come all of this way just to be discovered because of a silly thing like his hair.