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Horse Lady of Rohan  by Mimi Lind

62. An Elvish Wedding

Wynne spotted Legolas from a long distance. He seemed to be waiting for her, impatiently walking back and forth along the shore of the Anduin river. This was where they had first met, so many months ago. That time she had been unwilling to come, today there was no reluctance in her pace whatsoever, even though she had the exact same mission; to marry an elf. 

She urged Vatna to increase her pace, and the mare nearly flied over the shallow part of the river.

Legolas ran toward her, and then past her to the other horse, throwing his arms around its chestnut neck. 

“Stelpa!” His voice was muted by her soft fur.

“I knew you would miss the horse more than me!” Her grin nearly cut her face in halves. Oh how she loved him! She had almost forgot how handsome he was.

With a happy laugh he came to her, taking her in his arms and twirling her around until she got dizzy.

“Let me down,” she giggled. Thankfully her bruised ribs had stopped hurting during her journey here, or his hard hug would have been painful.

He obeyed, and she clung to him, pulling his head down for a passionate kiss. He smelled so good, and his lips tasted so good, and she never wanted to be separated from him again.

At last they had to part and catch their breaths.

“How did your father take it?” she panted.

“Better than I had expected. The only casualties were a few wine glasses.”

They kissed again. She stroked his back and shoulders and slid her hand under his tunic and undershirt, delighting in the feel of his flat chest under her palm. 

He fondled her hair, combing through it with his fingers. The touch sent shivers of pleasure down her spine. 

“Let me plait you.” His voice was husky.

Wynne nodded her consent. Before she met Legolas, she would never have thought a request to do someone’s hair could sound so sensual. 

He made one braid on each of her temples, a lot more intricate than those he had plaited before. While he was busy, she scrutinized every inch of his beautiful face, still finding it hard to believe she had made it. They had made it.

When finished, Legolas did his own hair in the same pattern. “There. This means we are betrothed. I should have given you a ring too, but… with all the hurry...” 

“So… what happens next?”

“We marry?” He looked hopeful.

“Here? Now? There are no witnesses or anything.”

“I prefer to have no witnesses.” He grinned, rather naughtily, and it struck Wynne she had no idea how elves wed.

“What is an elf wedding like? How is it done?”

“You want me to tell you?” His grin was wider now, and there definitely was a mischievous glint to his eyes. Wynne began to have certain suspicions.

“Please, do tell.”

“Well you see… when an elf really loves a woman–” 

“I get it,” Wynne interrupted with a giggle. “You just mate. Like horses.”

He feigned a shocked expression. “Not like horses, I shall hope.” 

The thought of finally being intimate had Wynne feel an expectant throb deep inside. She moved to kiss him again, but then she hesitated. ”We can’t make a baby. Mother would ruin everything.”

”I know. I will not let it happen.” He grinned. ”Like you once said, I do not even like children.”

”Me neither, glad we’re not having any. We can have foals instead.”

“And saplings?”

“Yes, Legolas, we can have saplings too.”

“Good. I would choose a tree over a baby every time.” 


Wynne’s and Legolas’ wedding proved to be a lot like most such occasions are, actually, despite the simplicity of it. Slightly nervous, even awkward at times, but also fun and loving. And as is probably the case with every such ceremony, things did not go quite as planned.

They had just said their vows and invoked Eru Ilúvatar, the creator – it had to be repeated several times because Wynne could not pronounce the foreign words correctly – and Legolas had placed his green cloak on the ground for them to lay on, when a thought struck her.

“I don’t really know how this is done,” she admitted, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Neither do I. I am sure we will figure it out.” He smiled at her embarrassment. “I have the basic idea, anyway. There was this Haradrim book in my father’s library, with illustrations. Very informative.” He covered her neck in light pecks and started to unbutton the front of her tunic. 

“That sounds like an interesting book. Do you think he would let us borrow it?” She helped him pull off his shirt, taking in that amazing chest. He was no less beautiful with his faint spear scar, and she reached out to touch it. 

“Never. He hates lending his books. Says people return them with dog-ears.” Legolas had finished the last button of her tunic and pulled it off, and then did the same with her chemise. “Finally!” He breathed, as his eyes hungrily devoured her topless body. 

“Argh!” she yelled. “Ants!” 

She was on her feet in a second, jumping around, frantically swapping at the angry insects. “Don’t laugh! I hate ants.” She quickly pulled down her hose and threw them away, and before stopping to think, she removed her underpants as well. His quick intake of breath made her realize what she had done.

“Valar!” He closed the distance between them in one step and pulled her to him, giving her an intense kiss as his hands found their way to her naked hips. 

“Are the ants gone?” she murmured against his lips. 

“I can help you check.” He grinned cheekily, and then he held her at an arm’s length, his eyes slowly trailing over her from head to toe. She knew she must be blushing, but having him observe her naked body with such obvious desire was also extremely arousing. 

“I cannot see any, but I am not entirely sure… l need to look at your backside, too.”

“This is unfair.” Her heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears, as she slowly twirled before him. “You wear more.” 

“I shall remedy that.” Still with his gaze locked to her body, he rather clumsily peeled off his remaining garments. Wynne’s eyes were drawn to the most curious part of him, and she almost stopped breathing. He was so beautiful, every inch of his body was, even that part and now she wanted to have him close, touch him, feel him inside her.

Legolas found a new spot for his cloak and gently pushed her down on it, partly covering her body with his.  

“I want you, Wynne. I have wanted to do this for so long,” he murmured, his eyes burning with desire. They probably matched her own, because she was on fire too.

“So take me,” she challenged, pressing herself against him, skin against skin. The feeling was indescribable.

He replied with another kiss, his tongue tickling her lip until she opened her mouth to let it in. Then he froze in the action, his eyes growing wide as he caught sight of something beside her.

“Ai!” He flinched and rolled off her. 

“What?” She turned to see a small spider walking beside her head. “That scared you?” She laughed at his foolish look.

“Donlikespiders,” he mumbled. 

“But that’s tiny.”

“It looked bigger up close,” he pouted.

They moved Legolas’ cloak to a third spot, then to a fourth.

“Any ants?” Spiders? Pine needles? Sharp stones?” Wynne asked tiredly when they tried a fifth location.

“No, no, no and no.”

“Oh I miss beds,” she lamented. “Now, where were we?”

“I was going to take you.”

This time there were no interruptions, and as he finally came into her, Wynne felt complete, like she had received a missing part of herself she had not even known she lacked. This was meant to be, they were meant to be.

“I love you so much,” she breathed.

He answered something inarticulate, and soon she lost all coherent thought too. Her focus went inward, her world narrowing down to what has happening between them; their bodies moving in unison, his hand caressing her breast, her fingers in his hair, their desire, their love.

When it was over a short while later, Legolas eyes were large and filled with wonder. “That was… I cannot even describe it.” Then he looked slightly worried. “Did you like it? Was I good?”

“Like it? I loved every second. And you are better than good, you are perfect .”

“Oh Wynne, you are an amazing woman,” he burst out. “Is it even possible to love someone this much? My heart hurts.” 

Wynne’s heart hurt too, and her eyes stung like she was going to cry. She kissed him, tenderly and slow, and stroked his tousled hair and messed up braids back from his temples. 

“I am so happy,” she breathed.

Then she rested her head on his chest, still slightly moist with perspiration, smelling his familiar scent and hearing his heartbeat slow down to its normal, steady pace. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, while the sun set and the sky turned pink. 

Wynne had never felt more loved, never more calm and safe.




“Maybe we should do it twice, you know, just for good measure.” 

“I think you are right. One cannot be careless with important occasions such as weddings. They must be performed thoroughly.” He turned to look at her, a spark of excitement returning to his eyes. “Just let me catch my breath, will you?”

“Don’t be too long at it.” She nestled herself closer. “What, aren’t you a warrior? You should not tire so easily.” She stroked his strong arm admiringly.


On the morrow, they decided the four times last night maybe was not quite enough after all, and repeated the procedure. And then again, later that day, when they were riding south and took a lunch break. 

In the evening Wynne suspected they might have missed some details still, and Legolas heartily agreed. 

And so they went, slowly but steadily proceeding south along the Anduin.


So, finally they got each other. :) This was by far the fluffiest scene I ever wrote. Hope you enjoyed it! 

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