To Live Again: The Road to War {Lord of the Rings Fanfiction}|

13. The Bitterest Pill

"I. Am. A. Tent!"

"But a very attractive tent."

"I am going to pretend I didn't hear you say that my love, or you may be wearing that crown as a necklace!"

To this Thranduil lets out a peal of delighted laughter, and as much as I would like to huff at his blatant lack of respect for my fragile ego, I can't help my soft smile in response. I do love how his eyes light up when he laughs, I do love him, and I don't believe I can think it enough. He captures my face in his warm hands and shakes his head in mock exasperation before stealing a swift kiss.

"You look beautiful, now stop stalling and get out there so I can show you off," he orders as he sidles up to the door and gives me an impatient look.

I take a settling breath and examine my reflection one last time before I prepare to enter the elaborate garden party. A sort of elvish baby shower, only it probably should have taken place months ago. Not when I am ten months gone and the size of a small country! I suppose as per elvish tradition, all celebrations are carried out in the weeks post conception and then obviously after the birth, but per usual, I never do things by tradition. However, I am more than relieved that I can share this wonderful time with my people, even more so now that it seems we are out of the dark and the threat of death is not looming over any of us. As if to second that thought I feel a nice firm kick to what I think feels like my ribs, and I wince in response.

"It must be getting very cramped in there, eh?" I sigh and run my hand over the abused spot. "Still, Nana would much appreciate it if you didn't use her as a punching bag." Another sound thump and I groan slightly...that was an uncomfortable one. I roll my eyes fondly at the sensation; I wouldn't trade it for the world. My baby can kick me from here to kingdom come, and I would still feel utterly amazed by it. After what we've been through, this is a pleasant experience.

I quickly ensure my long deep green and golden robes are fastened neatly, and my sleeves are turned up expertly, before I allow the folds of the heavy material to shield my bump and the soft creamy chiffon dress I wear below. I touch my circlet, just out of habit to check it is in place before I amble after my graceful husband and take the arm he offers me. We walk in silence, because we really don't need to speak much anymore, our bond with each other can commune our joyful feelings with ease.

We pass under the great archways and pillars that lead to my gardens, which have been beautifully decorated for the occasion. The winter atmosphere soaks into everything, the sleepy grey-blue light, the sharp crispness of the air, and the promise of unpredictable weather looms overhead. It is only early afternoon, but already the light fades, and many starlit lanterns have been erected around the gardens, just to send a warming glow throughout the space. I smell spiced wine and delicious breads wafting from the heavily laden tables, I hear humoured chatter and playful music on the air, and I am certain that the gardens are bursting at the seams with well-wishers and those wanting to catch a glimpse of the royal family at rest.

Our arrival is announced with much cheering and regal music, I can't help but blush every time such a fuss is made, because it feels so out of place for the person I am. I am a healer, I am an apothecary of sorts. An artist. I know these people in more of an intimate way than just as a Princess or the matriarchal figure of their kingdom. So the heavy respect my title deserves kind of throws me, because I will most likely be dealing with a bunch of healing queries in the morning and not floating about in elegant dresses, commanding the full attention of a city of people.

I am seated almost immediately and attended upon by a young servant elleth, I insisted Ferel not be on hand, because she should be enjoying the festivities with her family, not listening to me moan about my swollen feet or aching back. Thranduil sits at my side, but for once is not the centre of attention. His role today is just supporting and I think he is a little relieved about that. Legolas should be with his Grandfather, who is standing off to the side with an almost gloating expression, but I note he is elfling-less and that there is a flash of blonde and red hair as two excitable youngsters flit about the crowd, chasing one another. I also spy an amused Ferel and Torphen, as they observe the antics of the two little friends. Legolas is a little bigger and sturdier looking than the fine featured Tauriel, but for her young age she can run like the wind, she is just a blur of movement.