Title: “Moriquendi”

Author: Fan81981

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the LOTR characters, which is a shame.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Obligatory Legolas romance fic. Please give it a try. I will try to keep it as far away from Mary Sue as possible. Please Review.

*~ . . . ~* denotes thought

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The Wedding

The air was solemn but joyous at the same time, as befitted the joining of two extraordinary people – two extraordinary races. Middle Earth had not seen a wedding like this for a long time and was not likely to see one ever again.

The priest asked for a third time, “Do you, King Elessar, take this woman to be your Queen?”

Aragorn looked at the radiant woman in front of him and smiled. He did not need the three promptings from the priest; his answer would be the same till the end of eternity.

“With all my heart.”

“And do you, Lady Arwen Evenstar, take this man to be your lord and husband?”

“With no regrets.”

Arwen looked into Aragorn’s smiling eyes and once more re-affirmed her devotion to this man.

The priest nodded, the answers signalled the end of the ceremony.

“By the powers vested in me – I announce you Lord and Queen, wedded in the eyes of Man.”

The newly married couple bent their heads to receive the priest’s benediction. He spoke briefly to them about the duties to each other but it was a mere formality. Arwen and Aragorn had been married in their hearts a long time hence, and had learnt the lessons of love and devotion well.

When the priest finished, the couple walked down from the dais and crossed the temple floor to the Royal balcony. As they entered the archway, the waiting steward raised his voice to announce, “All of Gondor hails their lady, Queen Arwen.”

A great cheer erupted from the waiting crowd as Aragorn presented his Queen to his people. She gracefully waved to her new people and then quietly stood at Aragorn’s side as the people below cheered and clapped.

There was such love and joy in these people that Arwen was stunned. Despite all the hardships they had endured, and all the dark times they had seen, they could still love their King – and make room for her in their hearts. She had once again underestimated the race of Man. She shook her head, these were her people now and she was one of them. She was Queen – human, mortal, infinitely fragile but infinitely precious.

She glanced at Aragorn and realised once again, she would not have it any other way.

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The waiting nobility waited patiently inside for the King and Queen to return and dismiss them. The humans took this opportunity to study the rest of the guests in the room, and be studied in return. It was an unusual gathering, even by royal standards.

The King of Rohan, Eomer and his sister sat proudly near the front. Their carriages were erect and imposing as befitted their royal status. King Eomer had created a huge stir in the congregation when he had entered in his armour as the Third Marshall of Riddermark. For a moment the steward had not been sure whether to let this warrior into the temple, but the glare that Eomer sent his way ‘convinced’ him to let the King in.

Éowyn herself was no less daunting in her silver trimmed white dress. Her back was ramrod straight and she carried herself as if she too was in armour. She looked cool, calm and stunningly beautiful. Many heads had turned when she entered the room, so beautiful was she. However, her beauty increased ten fold when she beheld her promised husband - Faramir, Prince of Ithilien.

He had been waiting impatiently for the delegation from Rohan to arrive. Though he had schooled his features to welcome the other guests in the name of his King, his eyes constantly sought the door of the temple. Many people were piqued to discover who this normally patient and quiet man so urgently sought. They were not disappointed when they beheld Éowyn.

Faramir had eagerly stepped forward to greet King Eomer but his manner had clearly indicated that it was Éowyn he had been waiting for. From the look he had given her, it was clear that he had been waiting for her all his life. It had filled everyone’s hearts with joy to see that their young steward had finally found love. Many were already expecting another wedding to follow this one.

If the Rohan delegation was impressive, the next party should have been very much the opposite. Many humans had to be told who these merry-looking, tiny little people were – hobbits. Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took preceded the other two. Faramir placed his father’s bondsmen to his left and Éowyn greeted her old friend, Merry, joyfully. Men and women looked on with amazement at the two little creatures – heroes and warriors in their own right. Their small stature disguised their brave hearts and mighty deeds.

Many a head turned repeatedly to look at the other two hobbits – Frodo Baggins and Sam Gamgee. All knew the Ring-bearer and his faithful companion by reputation if not by face. Entire Middle Earth owed this hobbit their existence and they were grateful and a little saddened. All could see the price the little hobbit had to pay for their victory. The shadow still lingered in his eyes though his face smiled. It was clear to those who looked at him closely how much had been robbed from him by the Ring. No wonder that Sam still hovered protectively around him. Frodo grateful sat in a secluded spot of the temple, away from prying eyes and well-meaning questions.

Even the noble Ring-Bearer was forgotten when the Elves entered the room. Rightfully called the most beautiful and most noble race in Middle Earth, they filled the room with their own unique light and song. It heartened the heart and spirit to see them, reminding everyone of the beauty that still existed in the world.

As the highest-ranking elves in Middle Earth, Lady Galadriel and her husband Celeborn led the group. The Lady rendered most people in the room speechless, never had they seen such beauty in their lives. Lord Elrond and King Thranduil walked alongside each other, right behind the Lord and Lady of Lorien, trying valiantly not to smile at the humans who openly gawked at them. Arwen’s bothers, Elladan and Elrohir, had less success concealing their mirth. They smiled openly but good-naturedly; the humans intrigued them too. They figured it would be amusing, if nothing else, to observe the humans at the wedding. Such an unpredictable race was Man.

The last people to enter were the last in a whole day of surprises – a dwarf, an elf and an old man. Such odd company on the surface, but all knew the old wizard, Gandalf the White. Many stood in greeting and respect as he passed. Prince Legolas and his fair looks had broken too many female hearts already, not to be recognised immediately either. Gimli, Lord of the Glittering Caves, prayed fervently that no one recognised him. Gaping humans was all he needed on top of this formal attire. Unfortunately, luck was not with him, many people recognised him, if only because he carried his axe and wore a signet proclaiming him Elf-friend.

The wedding was delightful but over too soon in the opinion of many of the guests. Many instinctively knew that such a gathering would never been seen again in Middle Earth. For all the joy at the couple’s union, there was a touch of sadness too in the air.

King Aragorn and Queen Arwen stepped away from the balcony and invited the guests to join them at the wedding feast.

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Legolas watched bemused as Aragorn spun Arwen around the dance floor. He had never seen his friend so happy and it made his heart rejoice. If anyone deserved happiness it was this couple.

He had known Arwen for most of her long life and he knew that she had never been so happy as she was now. Her heart sang and all rejoiced to be near her. Legolas suppressed a little sigh of his own; he wondered when he was going to find someone to love as much as Aragorn loved his Queen.

“Do not worry Elf, you too will get a girl soon,” His friend Gimli interjected. “For some completely unfathomable reason they seem to like those blond locks of yours.” Gimli shook his head sadly, “No accounting for taste is there?”

Legolas grinned at his friend; Gimli could always be trusted to cheer him up, even if he really did not need it.

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“So Estel, may I dance with my daughter, or do you plan to keep her by your side for the entire night?” Elrond asked smilingly as he approached the couple.

 “When have you ever needed permission, my Lord?”

“Since she became your wife.”

*~ And human. ~*

“Then, you have my consent to dance with her,” Aragorn bowed and stepped back letting go of his wife. How that word still thrilled him.

Elrond took Arwen and gracefully guided her onto the dance floor.

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“You are meant to be dancing Faramir, not monopolising Éowyn in some corner,” Aragorn’s voice interrupted the deep conversation that Faramir and Éowyn were having. Both jumped back as if bitten and looked up at Aragorn.

Aragorn laughed at their guilty expressions, “My Lady, I did not think you were capable of blushing.” Éowyn only blushed harder.

“If Faramir will not dance, may I have the pleasure?” Aragorn asked.

Éowyn looked at Faramir and quickly looked at Aragorn again. Smoothing her faceg into a more dignified expression, she said, “Of course my Lord.”

Aragorn bent forward to take her hand and lead her on to the dance floor.

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“Are you happy, sell nín?”    <My daughter>

“Yes Adar. More than I ever imagined,” Arwen answered sincerely.            <Father>

Elrond looked at his daughter’s happy face and knew that he had lost his child forever. She truly was mortal now and he was going to lose her to oblivion someday. Even if would not see it with his eyes, he would feel it. Even in this moment of joy, his heart with sorrow for the loss of his beautiful daughter.

“I am happy Ada. I would not have changed my choice,” Arwen spoke quietly understanding her father’s sorrow.

“He will make me happy.”

“I know, meleth.” Elrond answered as quietly. If nothing else, he was sure of that fact. <Love>

“I will miss you. You have brought much joy to my life.”

“As will I.”

“I will remember you, Evenstar.”

“Then I will live forever.”

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“You love him, do you not?” Aragorn asked Éowyn.

“Yes,” Éowyn answered simply, knowing who it was Aragorn spoke of. She did feel like saying anymore; though Aragorn had no claim on her heart, she was not comfortable talking to him about Faramir

“You are happy?” Aragorn persisted.

“Yes, very.” Éowyn fell silent, not knowing what to say. Looking at Aragorn’s face, she saw the concern and friendship and she smiled. “He completes me. When I am with him, I yearn for nothing else,” she stated quietly.

“Not even to be a shield maiden?” Aragorn wondered.

 “With him, I am Éowyn – no more, no less.”

“Then you are happy.” Aragorn was satisfied.

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While most of the guests watched the elves and the dancing couples, Thranduil watched the humans carefully. Mirkwood was an insular kingdom and he did not have much contact with humans, who gave the Woods a wide berth on the best of days.

He marvelled at their resilience and spirit, it was no wonder that humans were counted as dangerous foes. Even their wonder in life and naivety was charming. He could understand why Lord Elrond took such great interest in the race. It went beyond his half-elven heritage – it was love for Man and his welfare. Thranduil would never be a partisan like Elrond was but neither did he hold humans in contempt. There was much to admire in this race and learn if one was not too proud to admit it.

Thranduil watched the guests laugh and make merry, they were happy and that attracted the King. He thought back to his own kingdom, back to his own beloved woods. He could not remember when he had heard such joy from his people – such an uninhibited love of life. Certainly not after his beloved Eruante had sailed for the Grey Havens. She had taken the light from his life and from the lives of his people. They needed to be reminded that life, despite all the adversity, continued and was meant be appreciated.

Maybe a celebration – he looked towards where his son was sitting. Maybe a celebration was what was required.

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“Hmm, father is looking at me,” Legolas said to Gimli.

“So?”

“I do not like the way he is looking at me. It makes me feel like a sack of meal about to be bartered.”

“You exaggerate, Elf. Eat and forget your father.”

“No friend Gimli, he is plotting something and I am going to pay for it.” Legolas suddenly found that he had lost his appetite. He wondered why Thranduil was looking at him so speculatively.

“By the Valar, I hope he not planning something. I always seem to suffer because of it.”

“Such as?” Gimli asked curiously.

“Last time, he sent me to Imladris. And we all know how that turned out.”

“He made you a hero, beloved of many people. Gave you a chance to make something out of your life, make a difference in Middle Earth. Sounds terrible to me,” Gimli retorted.

“Yes, well, in hindsight I suppose it all worked out,” Legolas said a little sheepishly.

 “Do not worry, if he is planning something I am sure ‘it will all work out’. Now eat.” Gimli turned resolutely back to his ale.

Legolas shook his head. Thranduil was planning something – and Legolas just knew he was not going to like it.

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