Being son of the King of the Elves and heir to the throne meant many responsibilities; council duties, reputation uphold, public appearance, and of course marriage and having children. Thranduil had picked out a nice woman from a wealthy village, she was beautiful and tall, beauty standard for elves.

At the marriage ceremony, when the marriage was officiated, their lips locked together in a tender kiss. Not one of reluctance, but genuine love.

Why? Legolas had taken his time to get to know his future wife and queen, what she liked and enjoyed and looked for within him. The two had great times together before their marriage, so their marriage felt less forced.

Dwarves and nobles gathered in the ballroom, talking amongst eachother with fine ale as the orchestra played their unique instruments. When they switched to the ballad of the kingdom dance, Legolas turned to his wife whom was across the room talking to her parents, her wedding ring of rich silver shining in the candle lights.

"Legolas, are you listening to me? I expect you to treat your woman right, make beautiful children with her." Thranduil spoke, his brows furrowed as he clutched a goblet of wine.

".. One moment father." Legolas excused himself and made his way to his wife, extending his wedding hand.

"May I have this dance, meleth nin?" He spoke kindly and lovingly, the orchestra slowly continuing.