Elrohir’s Wedding

‘You should rest,’ Elladan told him.  ‘You will need your energy for later.’  His grin was wickedly knowing.  ‘Believe me, my brother, this is not a night for you to complain of exhaustion.’

Legolas laughed as he regarded his friends affectionately.  ‘I am not at all sure that he will succeed in lasting the day, Elladan, let alone the night.  Look at him – he is a wreck.’

Elrohir ran his hands through his hair again. ‘How did you endure it, Elladan?  All I can think of is what might go wrong.  What if she changes her mind?  Suppose her parents forbid the joining?  It could rain – would we still carry on with the arrangements if there is to be a storm?’

‘Calm down, little brother.  Her parents cannot forbid it.  They have already consented – you have been betrothed for a year.  She is not going to shut herself in her room – she is as keen to marry you as you are to wed her.  What would it matter if it did rain?  You will be there and so will she – and you will claim each other.  This will be the happiest occasion of your life, Elrohir.  It will be all right.  Just keep breathing.  And leave your hair alone – you do not want to tear it out and appear tonight as bald as a Corsair.’

‘I am glad you managed to come, Legolas,’ Elrohir said, rubbing his hands down his tunic nervously.  ‘It would not have seemed right to carry on in your absence.  How is your leg?’

‘Well – I will not be dancing,’ his friend replied.  ‘But I am told it will mend – and, in time, I will not even have a limp to remind me.’

‘No – you will have something much more permanent,’ Elladan smirked, leaning forward and tapping the silver ring on Legolas’s finger.  ‘I will not say we told you so – but do not forget to whose advice you owe this.’

Legolas raised an imaginary glass to them.  ‘You have my gratitude, both of you,’ he agreed. ‘Although I did not observe you there when it came to the breaking of my bones.’

‘Why – is that a problem?’ Elrohir asked, his voice gleeful with sharp humour as he tried to divert his mind from the forthcoming ordeal.  ‘Would you have preferred us to carry out the breakages with a hammer?’

Elladan winced.  ‘Ouch – that sounds unpleasant.  And it would have been far less effective than flinging yourself gallantly into the river after your beloved’s little nephew – and, after all, I do not expect you intended to be swept over the waterfall and into those delightfully sharp rocks, did you?’

‘What are we going to do with the groom until it is time to pretty him up?’ Legolas ignored the shiver his friend’s words sent down his spine.  The adventure had been productive, but it had also been dangerous and his own survival, together with the elfling’s safety, had come about more by luck than any planning of his. 

‘Naneth says to keep him out of the way for a while, then see he is bathed properly – we had better make sure he cleans behind his ears,’ Elladan teased, grabbing at his brother’s hair and lifting it to peer at the appendage.  ‘Then we are to see that he eats – there will be mountains of food at the ceremony, but I know from experience that he will be too nervous to eat any of it – dress him and arrange his braids and then – this is the really difficult part – stop him becoming hysterical before it is time to march him to his doom.’

‘Am I to be guarded all day?’ Elrohir snapped.  ‘Do you think I am incapable of looking after myself for a moment?’

‘We did the same thing for Elladan,’ Legolas soothed him.  ‘At a time like this, an elf needs his friends.’

‘Besides,’ his brother added. ‘We do not want you running away.’

‘Does your wife not require your presence at some time?’

‘My wife and Legolas’s beloved are both up to their ears in helping with the wedding arrangements – and loving every moment,’ Elladan said ruefully.  ‘The last thing they want to spoil their fun is the presence of infuriatingly uninterested males.  Why do you think they sent us to you?’

The time passed slowly, with periods of brooding silence interspersed with boisterous teasing and quiet reminiscence. They raided the kitchen, in memory of the pranks of their youth, and nibbled on various plates of food stolen from the supplies intended for the feast, making the most of the chance to enjoy each other’s company.  The feeling of loss they had experienced during the run-up to Elladan’s wedding was less intense: they had survived that and the path they were treading now seemed a desirable part of a move towards a new way of living. 

Legolas felt mildly regretful; as though he were now being left behind, but this did not cause him the pain it would have done only a month before.  He looked at the ring adorning his finger, still so new that he found its presence rather disconcerting, and smiled.  It would not be many months before the twins would be dancing at his wedding, a thought that would once have terrified him, but now seemed right.

‘Right,’ Elladan announced finally.  ‘Time to get ready.’

Now he had something to do, even something as mundane as bathing, Elrohir found that he felt somewhat better.  The mere carrying out of routine actions was calming and putting on the formal richly-decorated robes of blue velvet embroidered with silver thread gave him a feeling of organisation and purpose.  Suddenly he was eager to get on with the whole business.  She was waiting for him and all that was important was for them to be together.

‘Soon, my friend,’ Legolas said gently, putting his hand on his shoulder. ‘Soon.’

Celebrian hugged Elrohir convulsively as he led his brother and friend into the airy room for the final minutes before joining the guests assembled on the lawns.  ‘My son,’ she said, her eyes shining with tears.

His adar took his hand and squeezed it affectionately.  ‘I will not untidy you,’ he said.  ‘You appear to have dressed with some care.’

‘Unusual, I know,’ Elladan commented.  ‘We have made an effort with him.’

His brother kissed his mother gently, then turned and hugged his father before punching his brother’s arm playfully.  ‘Is it time?’ he asked, husky with tension.

Celebrian took Elrond’s arm and they prepared to make their way outside. ‘She is waiting,’ she said simply.

Elrohir was unaware of the guests, whose chatter quietened as the two participants approached each other across the wide expanse of grass.  All he could see, all he could feel, all he could sense as he waited was her presence. It sang in his soul, not muted as it had been, but clear and pure and strong.  He turned towards her as she advanced, noticing, in an impersonal way, the soft blue of her gown and the blonde perfection of her hair, but her beauty was an irrelevance.  She completed him – and it still amazed him that he had never recognised until he met her that something had been missing.  He did not even realise that he extended his hands and stepped towards her or that she moved without hesitation into his grasp.  They were one.

Her adar looked at her with a mixture of regret and pride as he gave her into Elrohir’s care, but the two drew around them a cloak of intimacy, alone in the middle of the gathering in a way that did not recognise the existence of anyone else.  The words of binding were drawn from them almost without their volition as they joined themselves together for all time. 

Legolas drew a deep breath, feeling almost embarrassed at witnessing the depth of feeling before him.  He had attended many such ceremonies, but he did not believe he had ever seen two people respond to each other with such complete dedication.  He sought out the chestnut hair of his betrothed where she stood in the company of Elladan’s wife and he allowed himself to submerge in the vivid green of her eyes.

Elladan nudged him as the couple exchanged rings and he switched his attention back to them, observing as the glow of delight that surrounded them blazed to brilliance.

‘They seem quite happy,’ his friend muttered, as the parents drew bride and groom to the places set for them at the feast.  ‘Did we look that – bemused – at our wedding?’ he asked.

‘Do you expect me to say no?’ Legolas replied with a broad grin.  ‘You looked as if you were uncertain which way was up.’

‘You do realise you still have this to go through, do you not?’ Elladan remarked as they moved to reclaim their partners.  ‘And that whatever teasing you handed out to us will be returned tenfold.’

‘On the whole, the experience looks fairly pleasurable,’ he commented.

‘Pleasurable?  Valar!’  his friend laughed. ‘It is like being hit by lightning! Several times.  It is like having your insides melted and rearranged. It is like going through fire and ice.  It is like nothing I can describe.  It is as much beyond pleasurable as the sea is beyond a puddle.  It is the most complete, life-changing experience I can imagine – and I would not change a second of it.’

‘Is it really that intense?’ Legolas asked Elladan’s wife curiously, noting the changes in the elleth he had known from his childhood.

She laughed and nodded.  ‘Even more so, probably,’ she told him. 

He took his betrothed’s arm through his.  ‘Shall we find our table?’ he asked.

‘We are sitting with my grandparents,’ his friend informed him.

‘It is just as well that my adar decided not to come, then,’ he replied dryly.

‘I believe daeradar warned him.’

‘Wise.’

The chestnut head beside him shook, ‘I am staying with Lady Galadriel,’ she pointed out.  ‘It was only her invitation that persuaded my parents to allow me to come.’

Legolas lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘For which I, for one, am very grateful to her.’

‘But it will take more than that to reconcile Thranduil with the lady,’ Elladan informed her.

His grandparents welcomed them to the table and conversed pleasantly throughout the feast, until the moonlight encouraged the start of dancing that would last throughout the night.

Elrohir and his bride were surrounded by a ring of younger unmarried elves, their subtle glow dimmed by the radiance of the newly-weds.  An outer ring of married elves danced round them.

 Legolas sighed his regret at being unable to join them.

‘Never mind,’ her soft voice consoled him.  ‘It does not matter.  They know we wish them well.’

‘I know you cannot evade your chaperone by dancing,’ Galadriel said, ‘and I am aware that you will wish to disappear for at least part of the evening.’  She looked at them, a slight smile curving her lips. ‘All I ask is that you will do nothing that will cause me to regret trusting you both.’

The elleth’s mouth opened in surprise.  ‘Do you not mind?’ she asked.

‘If you will excuse us, my lady,’ Legolas said, bowing his head in acknowledgement. ‘My lord.’  He drew his betrothed to her feet and slipped away into the night-scented gardens, where a cascade of roses tumbled over a pergola, providing a sheltered bench where they could remain out of clear sight.

She giggled as he drew her into his arms.  ‘My parents would be very surprised if they knew about this.’

‘I really do not think we need to tell them,’ he murmured, leaning forward to touch his lips gently to hers.

It was some considerable time before they heard others coming along the pathway towards them. They separated reluctantly from a final kiss and she slipped from his lap to sit beside him sedately.

‘Have we interrupted anything?’ Elladan enquired.  ‘And if we have not, then why are you wasting your time so?’

‘Mind your own business, my friend,’ Legolas instructed him amiably.

‘My daernaneth says it will soon be dawn,’ he went on to say.  ‘She requests that you rejoin the party, before your absence is noted.’

His betrothed rose immediately and, arms linked with Elladan’s wife, they began to make their way through the flower beds, heads close together as they conversed.

‘Elrohir has left?’ Legolas asked.

‘Some time ago,’ his friend replied.  ‘Although if you mean mentally, I think they have both been missing since the ceremony began.’

‘It has been a good wedding,’ he responded.  ‘I have enjoyed it.’

His friend laughed. ‘Then I believe it is just as well that the next wedding you will attend is likely to be your own,’ he said, ‘for you appear to be ready for it.’