The Ties That Bind

Chapter Eight

Over the coming days, Eirlys found she spent most of her time awake in with Rania, working on her wedding ensemble. The days were long and tedious, especially for one not used to having to remain perfectly still whilst the seamstress and her assistants draped and pinned and adjusted the pale gold silk that would soon be Eirlys' wedding gown. Somehow, Eirlys managed, though. True, she'd bitten back a sharp rebuke more than once when Rania poked her with pins, but otherwise it was all smooth going.

For one who fancied trousers over dresses, Eirlys had to admit she looked forward to wearing the gown the seamstresses would spend their every waking moment stitching. The fabric was glorious—smooth and sleek, shimmering as if made of real gold, and judging from the sketches she'd seen, it would be the finest gown Rania had ever sewn.

And so it went, day after day, Eirlys found herself in Rania's studio, standing on a box, whilst her wedding gown slowly came together. What was once merely bolts of fabric being draped this way or that over her shoulders and around her waist was now an utterly stunning gown of flowing silk, edged with delicate lace and embellished with crystals that threw off flashes of red and blue and green. Two of Rania's assistants worked on the veil Eirlys would wear as well—yards of fine tulle, dotted with seed pearls and diamond chips so white, they resembled the stars themselves, attached to the tiara embellished with larger white diamonds that had once belonged to to her mother.

In the hustle and bustle leading up to the actual day, Eirlys had no chance to see Thorin, let alone be alone with him to apologize for her forwardness that day in the woods. And that only made her more nervous about the wedding itself, for some odd reason. She couldn't explain it, but she felt that she really ought to explain she was not normally so forward.

Although she saw him at supper most evenings, she couldn't quite seem to corner him, for lack of a better word. It seemed he was just as busy as she was, for each time she thought to cross the dining hall to speak with him, either her father or one of the other dwarves with whom Thorin traveled reached him first.

More than once, her father suggested she go and become friendly with Thorin's sister, but that proved to be far easier said than done, as the bald, fierce-looking dwarf seemed to hover about her. She knew he was something of a bodyguard to Thorin, but Eirlys was taking no chances in having to deal with him either way. She would never admit it aloud, but he frightened her to some degree, as he looked not only eager for a fight, but as if he could kill a body with his bare hands and not think twice about it.

With each passing day, carriages and coaches arrived, bearing wedding guests such as Lord Elrond of Imladris, Gandalf the Grey, the lady Galadriel and her husband Celeborn of Lothlórien. Some of the faces were familiar, but there were a great many faces Eirlys did not recognize at all.

On the night before the wedding, the Great Hall overflowed with bodies and for one who hated crowds, Eirlys couldn't wait until she could sneak out and away from all of them. She'd greeted and smiled warmly at so many people she didn't know, that she was exhausted and wanted only to go crawl into bed.

The opportunity didn't present itself until almost midnight, when she was finally able to slip from the back of the hall, where a narrow walkway ran the length of the palace, mostly obscured by undergrowth and foliage.

Eirlys breathed a sigh of relief as the cool night air swept over her. The Great Hall had been dreadfully warm, and so she closed her eyes, lifting her face to greet that breeze.

"Sneaking off, are you?"

Legolas whispered his question, but she jumped nearly out of her skin just the same. "What the—Legolas? Have you gone mad? Don't sneak up on me like that!"