An arranged marriage could solve everything: Legolas' post-war melancholy, Lasriel's dream of freedom and a family, her mother's exile, King Thranduil's dark secret. But turning childhood friendship into love is not as easy as they thought - and nei...
~At the bridge inauguration unexpected people arrive and put Thuriniel's secret in danger. Meanwhile, Lasriel has a long-desired delivery.~
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~♕~
"There's one in every family, sire. Two in mine, actually. And they always manage to ruin special occasions."
– Zazu, The Lion King
~♕~
23. Bridge
It was a lovely bridge. It looked a lot like the old one, but like Glóin had said: bigger, better and more beautiful. Thuriniel had not been at the site since before his people began to build it and the difference was stunning. The sad ruins were gone and replaced with this masterpiece of smooth stone and iron, with a silvery ribbon tied across it.
Temporary tables had been set out in the open space by the river for the feast later, and a mouth-watering aroma of roast meat spread through the air. Among the tables, elves and dwarves had formed two distinctive groups, talking in subdued voices and eyeing each other with badly veiled suspicion.
Thuriniel passed through them and joined Thranduil and Glóin beneath a podium where Thranduil would soon hold a speech.
"I am thoroughly impressed; it is an amazing bridge," she complimented, trying to keep her eyes off Thranduil who looked particularly gorgeous in a sparkling robe that matched his exquisite winter crown.
"Of course it is." Glóin grinned proudly. "After all, I built it."
"You are ever so modest, Master Glóin," said Thranduil.
"Ah, but I learned from the best," he retorted in a deadpan tone. "You are an excellent teacher in humbleness and unpretentiousness, o king."
Thuriniel smiled at their banter. It had been heartwarming to see a cautious friendship form between them while the bridge was under construction, rare as it was considering their races and their history, and Glóin had even visited the palace once. Apart from herself, Thranduil didn't have many friends – if any – and could thoroughly use a new one, even if it was a dwarf.
The inauguration was due. Thranduil stepped onto the podium and the mumble of voices died down.
Thuriniel took the opportunity to look at him openly, scrutinizing his face without anyone finding it odd. He was so handsome it hurt but she continued anyway, drinking in the sight like an addict would with a bottle of wine.
It was a good metaphor. The sad truth was that she had become addicted to Thranduil. All she wanted was to be near him at all times.
She sighed, wishing like she did every day that things were different.
He began to speak, his deep voice carrying far. "We are gathered here today to celebrate not only the completion of the stunning piece of craftsmanship behind me, but also the coming together of our two peoples. We have a history where grievances and quarrels have succeeded one another, but it is my sincere hope this bridge may be the onset of a new, beautiful friendship. Therefore it would be a great pleasure to me if our guests here today," he indicated the dwarves, "would like to join my personal table at tonight's feast."
