The Shadow Walker

93. The Wedding

Heart in my throat, I strode out into the hall with Lachiel. "Shall we go?"

She dipped her head with a sly smile. "Yes, Your Majesty." Curling her arm around the guard's, she added, "Are you nervous?" Her cunning eyes dared me to tell the truth.

"No," I lied, straight-faced, as we began to walk. "To be blunt, my lady, nothing that transpires today will be anything new."

Lachiel's step faltered. "I...beg your pardon?" Her face wavered between horror and fury.

I gave her my best condescending smile—though this position was rather unfamiliar. "We've been involved for some time, Lachiel...but our wedding is today, so no harm done, right?"

"My lady," the guard started, tentative, "Shall I—"

She cut him off with a glare. "Silence—no more of this from either of you. I won't let you ruin my brother's wedding day." She jerked her chin down the hall, and the guard jumped to escort her past me.

I couldn't help feeling a bit smug that I'd thrown her off kilter. Genuinely trying not to smirk, I followed her around the castle until we came to the massive double doors leading into the throne room. Lachiel and her guard slipped into the back, and she motioned me in.

Tables were arranged all around the room, overflowing with garlands, candles, and food. Elves stood in rows, staring at me. Their eyes betrayed distrust, worry, and disgust.

King Thranduil stood before the throne, dressed in silver robes the shade of storm clouds, wearing a crown of twisted branches that glittered with snowflake-like gems.

Beside him stood Legolas, who wore tan trousers and a sky-blue tunic and a smaller, silver crown. His eyes, bluer than ever, watched me with a welcoming smile.

My heart thrummed, warmth filling my chest. I could do this. A smile lifting my lips, I strode toward him. As I drew closer, he lifted a hand and held it out to me. Once in reach, I placed my fingers in his warm palm. Legolas reached for my other hand, and I happily gave it to him.

Thranduil placed one hand on my shoulder, and one on Legolas's. "We gather to celebrate the coming union of my precious son, Legolas, and Queen Amariel of Erebor.

Legolas, ion nin." Thranduil clasped Legolas's shoulder, a smile warming his neutral expression. "Before both Elvish and Dwarvish witnesses, do you willingly commit to faithful marriage with Amariel, both physically and spiritually?"

Legolas squeezed my hands and gave a firm nod. "I commit."

"Amariel." Thranduil tugged on my shoulder, turning me slightly toward him. "Before both Dwarvish and Elvish witnesses, do you willingly commit to faithful marriage with Legolas, both physically and spiritually?"

I met Legolas's gaze. He watched me with a steady smile, a calm, assured affection that I could feel in my bones. Pulling a hand from his, I nodded and placed it on his chest. "I commit. Come what may."

Thranduil snapped his fingers, and a guard strode forward, carrying an engraved wooden box the size of his two hands. Thranduil gingerly lifted the lid, revealing two rings—one made of delicate gold branches intertwining, with emerald leaves sprinkled throughout. The other was silver with a series of impossibly tiny sapphires forming a myriad of waves.

"You are two beings, now brought together to make something better," Thranduil said, lifting the gold ring, which he handed to Legolas.

Legolas took my right hand and slid the ring onto my index finger, eyes shining with warmth.

Thranduil took the silver ring out and handed it to me. "To separate would be painless for neither. In the case that you were to divide, the rings will be melted, a symbol of love lost."