The Ties That Bind

Chapter Three

When supper was ended, Eirlys watched as musicians took their places at the far end of the hall, near where doors opened to the terrace overlooking the southern portion of the forest. Her mouth went dry as she realized she would most likely be expected to dance with her fiancé.

Her fiancé. A man she'd exchanged but a handful of words with and who though her spoilt and pampered. Wonderful.

Perhaps she'd be able to sneak away from the dais whilst her father was otherwise occupied with speaking to their guests.

It was not meant to be.

As she rose from her chair, Thranduíl tuned toward her and smiled. "Not so fast, Eirlys."

Her spirits sank, even as she forced a smile back. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Papa. I was but stretching my legs."

"I feel it only proper for you and Thorin to begin the festivities this evening."

"I was not aware we'd be celebrating anything this evening."

Thranduíl's smile wavered, but remained in place. "Did you think we wouldn't celebrate? A wedding and not just any wedding, but a royal wedding, calls for celebration, don't you think?"

Ordinarily she would have agreed and under any other circumstances, she would have been the first one out on the dance floor. She loved to dance, loved a good party, and Mereih Nuin Gilliath, or the Feast of Starlight, was one celebration she looked forward to all year. At Tauriel's wedding to the dwarf prince Kíli last autumn, she'd danced a hole clear through her slipper. She was normally the first one on the dance floor and the last one to leave it.

But she wasn't feeling quite so celebratory this night. Even so, she bobbed her head. "Of course it does, Papa. I'm... I'm simply adjusting to the knowledge that I'm getting married when I have yet to even be courted."

A hint of color rose along her father's high, sharp cheekbones. He knew as well as she did the importance of courtship. It was a way to determine whether a couple was compatible enough for marriage, as when elves married, it was for life. And while she hadn't had any particular suitors in mind, she had always thought she would at least be courted prior to being married.

"Eirlys, you know why this must be different."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I like it." At her father's long look, she sighed and nodded. "No, of course I understand. I suppose I am but adjusting and doing so very badly."

Thorin stepped up behind Thranduíl and she forced a smile as he said, "I do hope I am not interrupting."

Thranduíl turned toward him. "Not at all. In fact, I'll let the two of you talk."

"Papa, wait—"

He didn't give her the chance to protest, but stepped around Thorin and strode toward Legolas, who sat with Balin and Dwalin on the opposite side of the Great Hall. Swallowing her words, Eirlys turned to Thorin. "I hope you are settling in."

"I am, thank you." A hint of discomfort flittered across his face. "Would you care to dance? Although, I must warn you, I am not the most graceful of dancers."

"That would make us even, for neither am I."

He held out a hand. "Shall we, then?"

Eirlys stared down at that hand. It was massive. Where elven hands were slender, with equally long, slender fingers, Thorin's were far different. The hand he offered was large and square, with thick, slightly stubby fingers. Heavy gold rings adorned his fore-and-ring fingers on that hand and Eirlys thought she could use those rings as napkin rings, they looked so big.