Chapter Text
Elrond woke up to the sound of a door opening, he remembered the night before and smiled because while it couldn’t make up for the chasm that had formed between him and his twin brother it felt nice that he would leave this house on good terms again, almost like the way they had come in. He was disturbed from further reflection on his childhood by a bright light filling the room as the staff snapped open his curtains. He didn’t want to get up but he had to despite how much he was dreading the day. A hot bath was prepared for him with flowers and oil spreading a rich scent around the room, the lavender didn’t quite have the calming effect they we’re probably hoping for and left him feeling slight nauseous. He ate breakfast alone in the large marble dining room, the same one where this all started, it was quiet and he could hear the echo of his cutlery on the plate although he didn’t feel like eating, the anxiety was creating a pit of dread in his stomach.
He was escorted to the car some time around nine, he didn’t have his phone and there were no clocks so he had to guess based off the sun. He didn’t have much time to work out the time because he was thrust into a a blacked out limousine, definitely Thanduils because Elronds family enjoyed being seen. He had seen the venue already so he knew what to expect, it was large but outdoors as he had asked for, they would stand under an arch of flowers then dance in a room with marble floors that had French windows so it was basically open Air. It was only a few hours until he would be walking down the stone isle to his masked husband. He had imagined many scenarios where he had married all his crushes, including Thranduil, but it had never been like this never forced. He remembered what his father had said at dinner the night before, “This is your duty Elrond. Do it for your family or we will never forgive you.”
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Thranduil felt that this was far to early to be out of bed even if it was a wedding. Seven am was practically unheard of for him. Normally he enjoyed a relaxed morning or as relaxed as it could be with two children to get to school. The children were nowhere to be seen today, he wouldn’t have them near this sham of a wedding or the media it would inevitably cause, that had been his one rule for as long as they had been around, the media wouldn’t get their claws into the one good thing he had left.
He was in an ornate room at the wedding venue, some estate built in Brutalist style, not to his taste at all. No room for nature at all. Even the company wasn’t invigorating to Thran, a hired hairstylist and makeup artist provided by the two people responsible for this mess. “I’ve been asked to curl your hair sir,” the hairdresser said breaking him out of his thoughts, he had a hungry look in his eyes Thran was all too familiar with, the look his hair often got but he wasn’t known to be particular for nothing. “No.”
“Pardon?” The hairdresser was obviously shocked, the prick wasn’t used to being rejected. “I don’t use heat on my hair,” he explained matter of factly, “Besides I always wear my hair straight, I won’t change that now.” He had kept his hair in perfect condition since he was a child and there was no chance that was going to be ruined by some assassin wielding a curling iron. He didn’t look happy. “ I was told to curl your hair.”
“I said no.” Thran turned to face him properly instead of through the mirror sitting up straight to look him in the eye, “if there’s a problem I’m sure we’ll be able to solve it. Am I clear?” The man’s face turned from a bored smirk to fear. His reputation came in handy for these moments. “Absolutely.” At least that was one problem solved for today, he had to focus on the small victories or he might lose what remained of his composure.
The makeup artist at least had the sense to keep quiet. He didn’t ask any foolish questions about removing the mask and simply got on with the parts of his face that were visible. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room that seemed to grow heavier every moment. Thran wasnt going to break it and the hair stylist was almost certainly to scared so the man kept staring ahead at nothing.
He was terrified. It would be a lie to try and claim otherwise and while Thranduil had no problem lying to other people he didn’t like lying to himself. As long as he kept his mask on, metaphorically and literally he would survive the day and only he would know the truth. He felt a shiver run down him that had nothing to do with the cold silk suit he was donning. His breath caught as small flowers were pinned into his hair. If he looked down he would see his hands trembling faintly but his eyes seemed to be locked on the vanity. Not his reflection, he had not looked in a mirror in many years, but at the small unassuming box placed there. The velvet lined box that contained two wedding rings.
Elrond stood at the alter feeling oddly composed. He had imagined this moment many times after the dinner party and each had ended with him collapsing or crying or running but now he was here he felt none of that. He could feel the mix of dread and nerves in his stomach but he wasn’t shaking or crying and he didn’t want to run away. He had been raised to do what is best for the family and his fathers were the only family he could remember and he was their last chance at forgiving the loans. There was no alternative, no way for him to escape there was only this. He locked eyes with his father who gave him a tight lipped smile, the intention was clear. Elrond gave a small nod back as the music swelled. It was time.
The wedding march began and Thranduil appeared at the top of the isle. He was beautiful. His blond hair flowed down his back like normal but there were small spouts of babysbreath and tiny lilies pinned in a crown around his head making him look more regal than usual. His mask was of course still on although this one seemed to have a slight pearly sheen to it. Elrond felt his heart sink a little as his eyes went further down to take in traditional robes Thranduil was wearing, they was very finely cut and made of a rich looking silk but was a deep dark grey. He looked like he was attending a funeral not a wedding. Compared to Elronds own white robes they stood out. It was obviously some kind of statement about being forced into the union but it still stung. In all the daydreams Elrond had had about his wedding from the time he was a child he had always wanted it to be a happy occasion with songs and dancing. Thranduil had been the imaginary groom in many of those but he had always been willing to marry Elrond and wore white. But this was reality not a fantasy he imagined to help him sleep and Thranduil had been forced into this. He had still hoped there would be the illusion of a happy day.
The music faded out as Thranduil stopped in front of Elrond. He stood tall and calm, he must have excepted his fate as well. His soft pink lips were slightly pursed and Elrond hoped that the wedding would end with a kiss so he might feel those lips at least once. The priest cleared his throat as he began to speak, “We are gathered here today to witness the joining of these two men.” His voice faded into the background as Elrond tried to focus on his breathing. This wasn’t how it was meant to happen, he looked out into the crowd and saw Elros giving him a discreet thumbs up. Elrond gave a small smile to his twin and turned back towards his new husband. Thran didn’t have any family here as far as Elrond could tell, only one man sat on his side of the benches. “Now we invite the grooms to say their vows.” The priest paused and looked towards Thranduil who was still staring out into nothing, the silence became heavy and awkward as some guests began to whisper. The priest cleared his throat and hissed, “the vows.” Thranduil gave a small start as he was brought back to reality and whipped his head around to look at the priest, “Of Course,” he said in that rich voice as he pulled a small black box from a pocket, “Elrond I take you to be my husband… from this day forward for all the days of my life.” Elrond stood waiting, was that it? But his husband seemed to be done and was holding out a ring. He looked at the priest who gave a small shrug clearly just as confused by the very abrupt vows as he was but Elrond extended his hand and allowed Thranduil to slip a thin gold ring onto his finger. Now it was his turn, taking a deep breath Elrond recited the words he had learnt, “I take you to be my husband, I give you my love and my friendship and promise to cherish you all the days of my life, till death us do part.” Thranduil nodded as he finished but made no move to extend his hand, he waited for what felt like an age until the priest once again cleared his throat and whispered, “he must put the ring on your hand.” Thranduil swallowed suddenly looking nervous as his tongue ran gently over his lips, he had gone stiff and looked down at the floor as he slowly pulled off his velvet glove. Elrond took his hand gently feeling as though the other man might run away if he acted impulsively, the hand was pale and smooth with perfectly manicured nails, it was the most amount of Thranduils skin Elrond had ever seen. The palm felt slightly rough under his fingers but he could only see the top of the hand that was pale as porcelain with narrow veins running through, Thranduil shivered as Elrond touched his hand and kept his eyes on the floor. He slid the dainty silver ring onto the man’s slender finger and as soon as it was secure Thranduil snatched his hand back towards his chest and quickly thrust it back into its glove. “You may have your first kiss.” The priest declared but neither of them moved, eventually Thanduil took Elronds hand in his gloved one and pressed a very light kiss to the back of it, so light that Elrond could hardly feel it. They kept their hands together as they turned to the small audience who were clapping, as they stepped down from the alter he felt Thranduil lean heavily on their joint hands but once they were on the isle again he released Elronds hand and they walked slowly back towards the Manor House.