Wood and iron (Barduil)

Stars over the city

"Did you do what ?!" cried Sigrid.

Bard sighed. He understood his excitement, even his daughter's anger, very well. He felt the same way. No, he didn't really feel it, but like her, he wouldn't have done it if he had another choice. As if he didn't have enough of the crime problems she came to the Dale with the merchants or the dwarven king sitting on his golden mound in a nearby mountain. He didn't need this complication.

"I couldn't do anything else. It was polite, "he replied amicably.

"It's my wedding, Dad."

"I know that, little girl. How could I forget that, "he said, rising from the table to walk around him. He was huge. He hadn't gotten used to it yet. Just as he was not yet used to the fact that his little Sigrid was not even a little small and he would get married in a few days. He had nothing against Iwar. He knew the boy — no, now a young man, from childhood, he knew his parents, and even though they were not explicitly friends, he knew that they were good and honest people. Moreover, now Iwar and his father, as blacksmiths, performed much better than in the lake town. The mine was a stone's throw from the dwarven mountain, where the best blacksmiths and armourers lived, but they were also the most expensive. So the ordinary things, such as metal nails in beams or struts in walls, so much needed to renovate stone houses, had to be taken care of by human blacksmiths.

In short, Iwar was a great game for his little girl, but he suppressed a bitter sadness that Sig would soon leave him and instead focused on their problem.

He walked over to Sigrid and literally forced her to untie her arms sullenly folded across her chest so he could take her palms into his.

"He's a king, just like Dain, and since I'm the king now and you're the princess, I couldn't help but invite him to the wedding. Can you imagine how offended HE would be? " he stressed with a small grin.

He had only a few days to get to know the Elven King - Thranduil, but even that was not enough. A lot of inferiority as well as a desire to drag him over the head with his oar, but surprisingly an incomprehensible sense of self-importance just because Thranduil spoke to him. And also an infinite number of ideas about him, which were definitely not appropriate to mention before Sigrid or even to think about them. He himself tried to avoid them... not to think about how the shiny silk fabric of Thranduil's sleeve slid down the perfectly slender hand... on the pink, sensually cut lips that not even the most beautiful woman in Lake-town had, but which still sat above the unmistakably male chin... or crystal blue eyes, sometimes clear almost like the sky, but occasionally changing to ice gray. Hidden behind a wall of long lashes... Or the way his hips flexed as he -

"You're probably right," Sigrid interrupted his thoughts. "We couldn't miss him, just as we couldn't miss Daina."

He screwed a smile to his face.

"Exactly. Besides, I don't think he'll come anyway, "he added, hoping deeply that he wasn't wrong.

°° O °°

The terrible blow of the door, which swung hinged to the wall, woke him from his sleep. He managed to steal only a few hours, because today was a big Sigridin day and he wanted to have all the work done, the files signed and the receivables paid so that he would not have to think about it all day. Valar help him! It was incredibly much, so he didn't get to bed until the horizon began to clear. He hoped he could sleep. After all, the whole city was going to celebrate one way or another today, even though it didn't have enough food and drink for them to host them all. But he declared a day off for everyone and for himself.

That's why he was sitting on the bed now, just winking confusedly at the two figures in the doorway.

"They are here!" cheered Tilda.