I draw in a deep breath.

It is long past the usual mealtime in the Dining Hall, but it will not start until the King's arrival. A hush falls over the room as we make our late entrance. I try my best to stay composed, though it feels as impossible as stars vanishing from the skies of Valinor. With every step towards the table, I feel the weight of countless eyes. My heartbeat quickens.

Thranduil leans in, his voice a low murmur meant only for me. "Let them look, meleth nîn."

No doubt there is curiosity about our whereabouts for the day, about why I accompanied the King to his unknown destination from dawn to dusk. I adorn a casual smile and pretend nothing is different than any other evening. Pausing for a moment to adjust the folds of my plum velvet gown, I make sure I am not walking too close to him.

I cannot help but notice his striking appearance as he moves ahead. His robes, a deep forest green trimmed with gold, drape elegantly over his broad shoulders, his distinctive branched crown adding height to his already formidable presence.

And to think, I am going to marry him.

It still feels like a dream.

If it had been my decision, we would not be here. If it had been my decision, we would never have left the solace of Laurenendë. We would have taken our vows then and there before Eru and not returned for several days.

But Thranduil told me he wanted to honor tradition, not for his sake but for mine. He insisted I deserved the splendor of a springtime wedding feast with my father and my sister and her family from Imladris in attendance. He believed the future Greenwood Queen should design her own bridal gown and have it made by the most skilled tailors of the realm. After waiting a thousand years, he reasoned, what was one more year?

One more year feels like it might as well be a thousand.

The amber pendants cast a honeyed light on the faces of those gathered. Caewen studies me openly as we near the table. Does she notice something different? Are my lips swollen or is my face still flush? I made sure to check my appearance in the looking glass before leaving my chambers, even asking Gwendes for reassurance...

The moment I opened the door to my room upon my return from my journey with the King, Gwendes let out a small yelp of surprise. "Goodness, you look like..." She shook her head. "You look like you have been ravished."

It was not the first time this day I had been rendered speechless. I could not utter a single word. I kept opening and closing my mouth like a door caught in a gust of wind.

"Is everything all right?" she asked in alarm.

"I...well," I started, then let out a little laugh in surrender. I knew I would have to tell her everything before leaving for dinner. "Ravished is one way of putting it."

It was testament to our close friendship that she remained calm while listening to the whole story, asking questions here and there, her eyes widening many times, but not once bringing up her own once-held interest in the King. Thankfully her betrothal with Sírdor had smoothed over all matters of the heart. In truth, she looked very happy for me.

"Is he planning to make the announcement tonight?" she asked.

"I do not know. We never really spoke about it." At seeing her knowing grin, I feel myself blush. "I would not be surprised if he did."

"Now I wish I had not already dined with Sírdor and his family. I do believe I will regret missing this," she said. Then she winked. "Perhaps you should change into a proper gown for the occasion, my future Queen."

Thranduil soon arrived at my chambers to escort me to the Dining Hall, and we both showed restraint by only kissing once outside my door after I made certain no one was in the vicinity. I am not so sure why we felt we had to stop at only the one.

"Your eyes have ever mesmerized me," he whispered, as if in awe. "They are like two unique gemstones..."

The intensity of his probing stare stirred a whirlwind of emotions within me, and I looked away. Memories surfaced of Nethanar, and even Elros, both of whom believed my different colored eyes were a defect, glaring evidence of my mixed heritage of Sindarin and Silvan. Mixed heritage they viewed with disdain. It was the first time Thranduil had ever acknowledged them. How often had I wondered over the years what he truly thought?

I could not contain my smile now I finally knew. Gems. Of course.

"I have always questioned if you are actually a dragon, and you are doing little to dispel my suspicions," I said.

He twisted his lips wryly. "Good."

He did not let go of my hand as we walked to dinner. I believe he would have kept holding it if I had not gently let go as we neared the entrance.

Before the guards could open the engraved oak doors, he held up his hand to stop them. Then he looked down on me and cupped my face, his gentle gaze sending a rush of flutters down my body. His eyes were so very bright.

"I love you, Rîneth."

It was the first time he had spoken the words aloud, though I had felt it with every kiss and close embrace since our time at Laurenendë. A gentle fire kindled inside my chest, spreading warmth to my limbs. Hearing those words from his lips, spoken so boldly in the presence of two guards, I understood he was making an unequivocal declaration. He was not ashamed. He would not hide his love for me. He did not care what anyone thought about it.

"Thranduil..." I searched his eyes and covered my hands over his. I released a joyful laugh I did not know I had been holding. His deeper laughter joined mine. "I love you with all my heart."

"Trust me then, meleth nîn," he said. "Are you ready?"

"No."

With the King's signal, the two very stunned guards opened the doors.

Now as we arrive at the table, he still does not seem concerned in the least, nor does he appear affected by his subjects' inquisitive glances cast in our direction. He pulls out the chair next to his own, a seat oft left unoccupied. I stop myself from looking at Caewen's reaction.

While it is true I trust him, it does nothing for my nerves.

"I hope your journey went well, my lord?" my father asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Yes," says Thranduil.

At a subtle nod from the King, the musicians start to play a cheerful melody, and everyone begins to eat.

"More than you could know," he adds, taking my hand under the table and stroking the top of my wrist with his thumb. "I am most pleased with what transpired, Lord Gailon."

A pleasant swoop low in my stomach. He is in no mood for subtlety, not even a little. But no one seems to have been listening too closely save for Ada, who smiles and raises his wine glass.

"I cannot say I am surprised." He gives me a knowing glance.

"Lady Rîneth, you are radiant tonight," Caewen says after breaking her conversation with her mother about the restoration plans. "I did not realize why until I noticed your ring. It could light up an entire room."

I sharply inhale, feeling a pulse of panic. She will surely question the placement, an unusual finger choice for an unclaimed elleth. I quickly hide my hand under the table with the other. I should have thought of this likelihood. But I know I could never have removed it regardless.

"Oh, yes, thank you. I wear it often actually."

"Really?" A wrinkle appears on her pretty brow. "I have not noticed it until now. But perhaps it was because I did not think to look for it..."

Now it is Lady Aethel's turn. "How did you come by such a gem, henig?"

I force a smile while my mind speedily whirls over ways I can answer while still giving the truth. "It was given to me as a gift from a fr--"

"I gave it to her," says Thranduil.

My heart pounds in my chest, my mouth turns dry. Caewen's eyes widen, and even Lady Aethel is left without words. Should I attempt to explain? It seems as though he will not. Perhaps it would be best for me to leave. As I let go of Thranduil's hand under the table and make to stand, he firmly grasps my knee and whispers in my ear: "Trust me."

"That is a very generous gift," Caewen says, looking a little embarrassed. When Lord Amdiron suddenly engages her in conversation, she looks visibly relieved. Which is saying quite a lot, for it is Lord Amdiron.

Lady Aethel keeps staring, her nettle soup forgotten.

It is at this moment I realize Thranduil now has his arm around the back of my chair. This is out of hand entirely! I throw him a pleading look, but he smirks in return. He is very much enjoying this. And though I cannot and will not say I do not take some pleasure in his attention, why does he not just make the announcement and put everyone out of their misery?

"My lord, have you heard from your son? When shall we expect his return?" asks Ada, and I remind myself to thank him later for showing mercy.

Tuning out the conversation, I decide to focus my attention on eating. I pile my plate with bread and cheese, along with strawberries. In truth, I always have a strong appetite when nervous. The fruit particularly looks delicious. I do not converse with anyone as I normally would. From the corner of my eye, I sense Ada watching me as the King answers his question. What does he expect? Does he wish me to give him every detail of our time at Laurenendë in front of all who are present?

The way forward from here is unclear to me, and instead of losing myself in Thranduil's embrace I should have discussed the issue with him before our arrival at the keep. His kisses were a distraction. Nay, I must not think about them now. My face would then give me away completely.

Food becomes my focus. I finish the strawberries and reach for more.

"Your kisses are sweeter than those strawberries by far," Thranduil suddenly whispers in my ear, and my stomach flutters like a flock of birds.

I look down at the fruit on my plate and realize I cannot possibly eat another bite. Heat blazes my cheeks.

He whispers again. "But your face is nearly their same shade."

"Enough, my lord."

Caewen, Lady Aethel and even Lord Amdiron look at us in surprise, no doubt having heard my too-loud whisper of protest. I feel a desire to melt into my chair and to the hard stone below. Lord Amdiron clears his throat. They eventually have the decency to look away.

The same aloof and even at times icy King of the Woodland Realm is now acting anything but. He seems to be enjoying the dinner more than anyone in the room, definitely far more than me.

"You are not trusting me." His eyes sparkle in amusement, and he grips my knee again as though sensing I am about to take flight.

I lower my voice and lean towards his ear. "I would follow you to the ends of the earth and back, my love. But now I believe you are playing with me."

"I am."

"Please stop."

"You look irresistible trying so hard to pretend you are not affected by me."

I manage to remove his strong grip after a few attempts, and I stand up from the table. All eyes look up expectantly. "Please excuse me. I have had a tiring day and--"

"I have important tidings," Thranduil interrupts, standing up beside me.

I sit back down. But no one seems to notice. All eyes are now on their King.

"I had a meeting with Lord Celeborn of Caras Galadhon today."

He then speaks of the division of the forest, that the northern realm remains ours, and that the forest is now called Eryn Lasgalen. The assembled lords and ladies express their approval with nods, seemingly pleased with the changes.

"It is a most fitting name," says Lord Amdiron.

But he does not return to his chair once the news is delivered. Silence envelops the Dining Hall. The musicians' hands hover, stilled above their instruments, and even Ada watches without uttering a word. I forget to breathe as he reaches down his hand for mine and pulls me up beside him. He then wraps his arm around my waist in a manner which can only be described as possessive.

If earlier my face was the same color as strawberries, I can only imagine what shade it is now. All I know is he is the only thing anchoring me to the ground.

"The tidings of the day do not end there. Lady Rîneth and I are betrothed." He turns to me and smiles, and a flurry of whispers ignite across the room. "She is to be my wife and Queen."

I release a breath I did not know I had been holding. Ada's face breaks out in a broad grin. It is a stark contrast to Lord Amdiron, who furrows his brows in utter bewilderment. Caewen's mouth hangs open, her eyes growing larger by the moment.

Thranduil takes my trembling hands and squeezes them reassuringly. I look up at him and smile, hoping my eyes convey my sudden realization. I do not care what they think. Not anymore. I love you. He nods, satisfied, and leans in.

There are many memories I shall hold close forever from this one spring day, but I know I shall never forget the look on Lady Aethel's face after the King kisses me in front of his entire court.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!

(Beautiful cover artwork by Patricia M)