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melodyalanaroster · 2 years

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Two Hearts Joined In Matrimony

“A wedding! A wedding! We’re going to have a wedding!” Derek and Nora cheered when Nathaniel and Alana formally announced their engagement. The cheering reminded Alana of Victor’s and Emily’s wedding preparations from Corpse Bride. The couple’s nuptials instantly became the talk of the Black Tower, and various points in society. “It will be the event of the century!” Severina beamed. “It will be star studded, with the brightest star being our beautiful bride!” Renee cheered. “Nathaniel will be the true star there.” Alana mused, lovingly. “No, it’ll be you.” Nathaniel cooed as he kissed her head.

“Rini will be my Maid of Honor. Sam, Amber and Noelle will be my bridesmaids. I don’t need a really crazy bachelorette party. And, for my dress, I already have ideas.” Alana announced as the room filled with people. “And Nathaniel? You need three groomsmen and a Best Man.” Renee inquired. Nathaniel thought for a minute. “Armin is my best man.... As for groomsmen, I really don’t have that many friends other than Kentin, and Eric...” He pondered. “What about Castiel? You two aren’t enemies anymore.” Alana suggested. “It would make sense.” Kentin added. “You’re not wrong...” Nathaniel sighed. “It’s settled then! Castiel will be your other groomsman!” Renee cheered. Armin, bursting with emotion, ran up and hugged Nathaniel. “I WOULD BE HONORED TO BE YOUR BEST MAN!” He cried. “A-Armin! Of course its you! You’re my best friend!” Nathaniel laughed. “Viktor is going to be pissed that he’s not at least a groomsman.” Severina commented. “He keeps hitting on Alana! I have never appreciated that!” Nathaniel shot. “Rini, I love Viktor... But, I’m tired of it. If he really cares about me, he’d be happy to just be a part of the wedding.” Alana sighed.

★

“Alright kids... I wanna discuss something with you two.” The Red Death requested as he walked into Death’s Domain. “Sir?” Alana asked as she and Nathaniel sat on the couch. “Your wedding rings. I can have them custom made, and I’d like to. So, what are your thoughts? You have been thinking about them, right?” He prodded as he sat down in front of them. “Custom rings? Really? I was thinking about having a jeweler that I helped out help us.” Nathaniel explained. “Nonsense! Melody is the shining star of my crown. She must have the best!” The Red Death shook his head. “Well, diamonds are a classic, right?” Nathaniel asked. “Can I have something celestial? With a silver base, of course.” Alana requested. “Of course kiddo! You can have anything you want.” He smiled. “Yes, sweetie, diamonds are a classic, but we don’t have to have them... We’re not trying to impress anyone with how fancy they are.” She explained. Nathaniel thought for several minutes. “Can I have a silver version of “The One Ring”?” He asked. “Really? One ring to rule them all? You know what? If you want it, you can have it!” The Red Death chuckled. “Oh! If he’s doing that, can I have Nenya? You know, Galadriel’s ring? That way we somewhat match!” Alana cheered. “I am not surprised that you two are going with something nerdy. I will get them made as soon as possible!” The Red Death approved as he stood up and left the apartment.

★

Alana sat at her desk, going over the plans in the study. It had been decided that the ceremony would take place at the seaside cathedral and the reception would take place at a terrace by the beach. Pictures of the venues were pulled up on the computer screen. She couldn’t help but feel utter bliss towards the fact that she was actually planning the day she had been longing for for years. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” She called. “Hey honey.” Nathaniel grinned as he entered the room. “Hey sweetie! What’s up?” She asked, smiling. “Can we talk? There’s something important I’d like to discuss.” He requested. “Sure. Is everything okay?” She inquired as she got up and moved to the small couch in front of the fireplace. When he sat down next to her, he moved to face her and held her hands. “I know you’ve mentioned taking my last name when we’re married...” He began. She nodded. “Only if you want me to.” She replied. His face grew nervous. “Sweetie? Do you not want me to?” She asked, concerned. “I... I was wondering... I-If you would m-mind if i-if I t-took yours...” He blushed. A wave of shock crashed onto her. “Really? You’d like to take my last name?” She inquired, baffled. “Y-Yes. Alana, I hate my last name. It’s my father’s. I’ve thought of changing it to my mother’s maiden name, Carello... But, each time I think about it, I’m reminded of her faults. But you... I love you. Your family isn’t perfect, but they love and accept me. Your mother knows what I’ve been through and doesn’t think less of me. Sam and Ken have been calling me their brother for years...” He explained. She thought for a couple of minutes before slightly smiling and putting her hand on his cheek. “You’ve had this on your mind for a couple of years now, haven’t you? Since before you even proposed?” She asked. Nathaniel looked at her, baffled. “How did you know?” He blurted out. “You only talk to me like this about stuff that’s been weighing on your mind and heart for a long time.” She mused. “Yes, I have...” He sighed. “Have you talked to my mom about it? As the family Matriarch, she is the one who has final say over who takes our name.” She stated. He nodded. “I did. While you and Severina were choosing the Bridesmaids’ dresses, I discussed this with her... She approved. But, she told me to make sure to talk it over with you before its made official.” He assured. “Well then! It looks like I’m keeping my last name! And the Roster Clan is officially gaining a new member under our name!” She chuckled. “Are you sure?” He asked. “Nath... While I did want to take your name, I’ve thought of hyphenating as well... Roster is more than just my name. It’s my history, my family’s culture, our reputation and place in this world. While each member does their own thing, every thing we do simply adds to what is already there. I’ve had doubts about doing that with the last name “Jacott”....” She acknowledged. “I love you, my sweet Melody.” He smiled. “I love you too, my darling prince.” She cooed as she leaned in and kissed him.

★

“Gentlemen, please come with me.” The Red Death requested when Nathaniel, Armin, Kentin, Castiel and Eric appeared before him. “What are we doing?” Nathaniel asked. “As you know, Melody has spent a good amount of time recently discussing her wedding look with one of the world’s top wedding dress designers. Her look will be nothing short of regal. Which is to be expected... To a certain extent, she is considered an empress by many.” The Red Death began as he and the group began walking towards a room. “What does that have to do with us?” Eric asked. When they entered the room, the men noticed several smaller rooms. “To compliment the empress, her bridesmaids will be wearing dresses that simply make them look like ladies in waiting... Granted, Melody’s idea is a modern take on that, but still... You five must look appropriate! Now, go into those dressing rooms and change!” He ordered. The men looked at each other, curiously. “Yes sir.” Kentin sighed as he went in to one of the rooms. “If you really demand it, I don’t see how it would hurt.” Nathaniel shrugged. “Is that an order?” Armin asked. “YES.” The Red Death growled. “Best do what he says.” Armin sighed as he looked at Eric and Castiel before going into one of the dressing rooms.

Several minutes passed as each groomsman began coming out of their respective room. They were all dressed in formal black suits with blue ties. Just under Armin’s lapel was a silver brooch with the Roster Family Crest on it. “As the Best Man, you must stand out a little. I have gotten permission from the Roster Family Matriarch to have this on your suit.” The Red Death explained. “Really? Alana’s mom said I could wear this?” Armin asked, choking up. “Yes. Apparently she considers you one of her “kids”.” The Red Death smiled. “This is just the formal attire that you designed for me several years ago... I thought I was supposed to stand out....” Nathaniel commented as he exited his dressing room. He was wearing the same black and silver suit that he had worn the day Alana introduced him to Viktor and Severina at an aristocratic gala. “You will stand out. This formal attire was designed for someone of your station. While I understand that you have worn it before, this time, you will be more... Decorated.” The Red Death explained as he straightened parts of Nathaniel’s suit. He walked over to a box on the table, picked it up and brought it over to Nathaniel. “You are elevating slightly in your position by marrying my brightest Crown Jewel. By simply being the keeper of her heart, and keeping it well, it has been decided that you have earned at least one medal. Your Police Chief has also put in for you receive another award. Those standards have prompted me to present you with these two medals. One of honor and the other of valor. Your work in the police force has proven to have saved several lives. Your place at Melody’s side has partially saved hers. Thus, at your wedding, you will present yourself as a decorated hero and a Lord within society... At least until after the “I dos”.” He announced as he took the medals out of the box and pinned them to Nathaniel’s lapel. “I didn’t know the Chief was doing that.” Eric commented, baffled. “Well you look at that. You’ve gone from “student body president”, to “drug dealer”, to “Decorated Hero” and “Lord” and you’re fixing to become “Husband”... How does it feel?” Castiel asked, slightly snidely. “Honestly? The other titles don’t matter. I just want to become her husband.” Nathaniel smiled as tears came to his eyes.

★

Alana, her mom and her aunts were sitting in a room while they waited on Severina, Noelle, Amber and Sam to change into their Bridesmaid dresses. “You know? Traditionally, their dresses should be hideous.” Agatha commented. Alana shook her head. “I have always hated that. My bridesmaids will not be wearing ugly attire!” She replied with conviction. After several minutes, the girls emerged from their dressing rooms. They were wearing floor length, black, spaghetti strap dresses with silver chain belts that had the links filled in by different colored gems. “Why do we have different colored jewels?” Amber asked. “Because we’re her “Sailor Guardians!” Severina cheered. “And for the wedding, you’ll be Mars.” Sam explained. “You all look lovely!” Lynne smiled. “I knew this would be a great idea!” Alana blurted out. “Its a reference?” Amber looked confused. “I’m guessing Nathaniel will even get a laugh from this.” Noelle chuckled. “Yeah... He’s kind of expecting a Sailor Moon reference somewhere....” Alana giggled.

After the others left the room, Alana was prepping to leave and join Nathaniel when Amber stopped her. “Alana, can I talk to you for a minute?” She asked. “Sure, what’s up?” Alana replied. Amber looked nervous for a second before mustering up the courage to look at her with conviction. “I’m sorry for how I treated you all those years ago... When you and my brother first got together, I was so angry and bitter... I already hated you because of what you did when you called social services on my dad.... I honestly thought you were destroying my family... But, you weren’t. You didn’t destroy my family, you and your family became my family and made it much bigger and warmer than I could ever have imagined.” She began. “Oh Amber.” Alana choked up. “I always thought that my brother would follow the path my father set him on. But, with your encouragement and love, he has forged his own and he is so much happier for it. I can’t imagine where he’d be without your presence... And I don’t want to. You’re amazing, Alana. I’m sorry I didn’t see it back when we were in school. But I am happy and proud to know that you’re going to be my sister-in-law.” Amber concluded, sounding as if she was trying to hold back her emotions. “Amber, you have no idea how much this means to me! I forgave you for what you did back in high school when you apologized to me in college... But hearing you say all that now that Nath and I are getting married makes it mean even more!” Alana bubbled as she hugged her, much to her surprise. “A-anyway... You should p-probably get back to my b-brother...” Amber stuttered. “Right! Gotta dash! I’ll see you later!” Alana beamed as she ran out of the room. Amber stood in the room alone and thought for a few minutes. “You’ve got the perfect woman, big brother.” She lightly mused.

★

Nathaniel, Alana, Lynne, Nate, Sam, Severina, Amber, Verity, Agatha, Seraphina and the Red Death sat at a table in the high conference room in the Black Tower. After several minutes of waiting, the Prime Minister and UN Ambassador entered the room. “Good afternoon everyone! Thank you all for coming to this meeting. There is something of great importance that I’d like to discuss.” The Prime Minister grinned. “I’m sure it has something to do with our wedding... So, please, enlighten us.” Alana slyly smiled. “Lady Melody, as you know full well, you are classified by the global community as many high ranking forms of society. Since you implemented Protocol 216, your status has also applied to Mr. Jacott, thus making his title “Lord Nathaniel”.” The UN Ambassador began. “Our status has never been questioned. It’s various forms are what have allowed us to move as freely as we have been these past few years. But, what does that have to do with the wedding?” Alana interrupted. The Prime Minister stepped closer to the table. “Like with many other important weddings, we were hoping that yours could be televised!” She cheered. “Out of the question!” The Red Death shot. “My daughter’s nuptials are not late night tv!” Lynne blurted out. “But, she might as well be royalty! Royal weddings are important and should be seen by the public!” The Prime Minister urged. “My goddaughter is not something that should be publicized!” Verity spat. “Can we not?” Nathaniel asked. Amber, Agatha, Seraphina, Sam, and Nate all expressed their disapproval to the idea. “Enough!” Alana called, annoyed as she stood up and walked over to the Prime Minister and UN Ambassador. “Lady Melody?” The Prime Minister inquired. “Thank you for showing an interest in what will be one of the happiest days of my life... But, I must decline your request to have it televised. While the wedding will be large, not all of our extended friends and family will be able to attend. Which is why a professional camera man will be making a proper video of the wedding and several events surrounding it for the people who can’t make it to the event itself to enjoy. This video will be released publicly after it is completed and approved by Nathaniel, my mother, the Red Death and me.” She announced. “But, that might take weeks after the wedding!” The UN Ambassador blurted out. Alana raised her hand to stop everyone from speaking again. “I have waited the better part of thirty years for the day that I’d get to marry the one who holds my heart. You can wait a bit longer to release proof of my happiness to the public. After all, I am not English Royalty. My wedding is not a public affair.”

Later that day, the couple met with the Pastry Chef Team that had been put in charge of designing the three cakes for the couple for the first time. “Lady Melody, Lord Nathaniel, it is an honor to meet you two!” The Head Chef smiled. “Please, just call me Nathaniel. I’ve had enough of this “Lord” stuff for one day...” Nathaniel sighed, exhausted. “Yes Sir.” The Head Chef replied. “I look forward to working with you all.” Alana greeted. “Thank you ma’am!” several chefs said in unison. “Now, what are we looking for in the way of cakes? Or, should we start with just getting the design for the Wedding Cake done?” The Head Chef asked. “Let’s get the basic designs done and we can go from there. I do have ideas.” Alana mused. “Yes ma’am!” The Head Chef saluted. Alana looked at Nathaniel with a hint of mischief in her eyes. “For the Groom’s cake, let’s go with something fun... Can your team create a Hobbit Hole? Or maybe a small version of the Barad-dur?” She asked. Nathaniel looked at her, a little shocked for a second, then let himself become overwhelmed with adoration. “Really?” He asked, lovingly. “It would be pretty cool! Plus you love the series!” She beamed. “Barad-dur?” The Head Chef inquired. “Sauron’s Tower.” Alana clarified. “Wouldn’t that be a bit... Dark? I mean... For a wedding?” The Head Chef asked. “He’s not wrong... Plus the Hobbit Hole idea is still really sweet.” Nathaniel cooed. “True.” Alana pondered. “And flavor?” The Head Chef asked. “White is fine by me. I don’t really care for sweets.” Nathaniel replied. “Yes, Sir!” The Head Chef chirped. “Now, for the Bride’s cake, I’d like it to be a miniature version of Crystal Tokyo looking over a shining lake. I’ll send you the references needed for it. I would also like the flavor to be a sweet white chocolate with a hint of hazelnut... Just like my favorite frappe.” Alana explained. “A Sailor Moon cake! Sweet!” one of the chefs cheered. “And the Wedding Cake?” The Head Chef asked. “I honestly don’t know anything about those...” Nathaniel commented. “It’s okay sweetie, I can handle this. Just sit back and watch the master work.” Alana confidently stated as she looked at the Head Chef. A member of the team grabbed a notebook and a pen to take notes. “Now, I’m going to start with stating two points that are not in our control. One, it will be a four tiered cake with Greek Ionic columns supporting each layer. That is a demand from The Red Death. Two, the base tier will have a large version of the Roster Family Crest centered on the front in fondant. That is a demand from my grandmother. The main color of the cake will be white, with light blue roses accenting each tier. In between the columns on top of the bottom tier, there will be a cat that looks like a plush. That represents the cat plush I gave him in High School. A miniature version of London’s Shard will top the second tier, representing the famous “Shard Incident” that took place between High School and when we were reunited in University. Topping the third tier will be a miniature Trident, specifically the one from the DCEU’s Aquaman movie. Seeing that film was our first official date when we reunited, and the song at the end of that movie is one of “our songs”. You will receive the actual cake topper closer to the actual day. And for flavor... Make it a proper, white, wedding cake flavor.” She ordered. “How many flowers would you like?” The note taking team member asked. “Not too much. This cake will be elegant, not gaudy.” She replied. “You chose items and a place that represent major points in our relationship...” Nathaniel cooed. “Of course! While you were trying to get the guts to propose, I was dreaming about our wedding! I love you Nath! Every aspect of our day will represent that!” She cheered.

★

“AWE YEAH! BACHELORETTE PARTY!” Sam cheered as the foyer filled with Alana’s bridal party. “Sami! We’re not going crazy!” Alana yelped. “Trust me sweetie, we’re gonna have some fun!” Lynne declared as Nathaniel, Armin, Kentin, Castiel, Eric, Nate and Viktor walked up to them. “Are you boys gonna go off and party?” Lynne asked. “The classic strip club is definitely on the table!” Kentin teased. “Real girls have nothing on digital ones... But, this will be fun.” Armin laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll be sure to stay out of trouble.” Eric sighed. “Come on, old man! Getting into trouble is what tonight is about! Its just a shame I won’t be able to see Alana cut loose!” Castiel chortled. “You’re cutting loose?” Nathaniel asked, a devious grin on his face. “I am not! I’d like a quiet night!” Alana shot. “She is.” Severina butted in. “Why can’t I go with the girls?” Viktor asked. “Because, for one night only, my sister is getting dicks that aren’t Nathaniel’s in her face and you do not need to be there bringing down the mood!” Sam announced. “Seriously! Her sexual number is still at a simple “One”. While she won’t be fucking anyone tonight, she will get some eye candy!” Severina laughed. “Are we seriously going to party? I thought Noelle was planning a nice evening.” Amber queried. “I did... But, Lynne, Agatha, Sam and Rini vetoed my idea for a movie night.” Noelle sighed, annoyed. “Oh, it’s going to start with a movie! I’ve got all of our bags of tricks!” Agatha chimed in. “Bags of tricks?” Amber asked. “Really! We’re starting out with that?!” Alana suddenly got excited. “YUP!” Agatha beamed. “A Roster Tradition... And this time, it falls in time for a wedding! We’re starting our evening with The Rocky Horror Picture Show!” Lynne boomed. “Well, have fun! We’ll be on our way!” Nate smiled as he and the boys left the building.

The next morning, Alana awoke to Nathaniel sitting up in bed, looking sick. “I haven’t drank that much since that time I fell into the pool in college.” He groaned. “At least you made it home safe.” She muttered. Within seconds, her head was pounding. “FUCK!” She shouted as she sat up and hunched over. “Looks like you had too much fun.” He quietly snickered. “Mom, Sam and Agatha were pouring drinks down my throat for most of the night. They took me to a strip club after the movie... Honestly, it felt like the night was more for them than me... It was fun, but I would rather have stopped the craziness after the movie...” She explained as she got out of bed, grabbed two doses of migraine medicine from the bathroom, gave one dose to him, popped the other dose in her mouth and drank from her bedside water bottle. “Armin, Ken and Cass all bought me lap dances from the club’s “most sought after” girl.... While she was pretty, it was not the most enjoyable experience. Its a good thing Nate and Eric decided to stay sober... Armin and Cass kept getting me drinks and we were all making sure Viktor wasn’t sober.” He admitted as he took the medication. “But, you all had a good time, right?” She asked. “As good as we could. Yeah. Frankly, I’ve never understood this whole “Last night of freedom” thing... I want to marry you. You’re not a “ball and chain”, you’re the angel of love and life that has repeatedly saved me and makes me want to be a better man.” He looked at her lovingly. A shot of love and affection rushed through Alana’s entire body. “I love you so much Nathaniel.” She mused.

★

“MELODY!!! OH MY GOD!” A girl cheered as she ran up to Alana and hugged her. “Hey Fiona!” Alana smiled as she hugged the girl back. Fiona was an old friend of Severina’s, one of the fair few aristocratic girls she actually didn’t mind. It helped that her family didn’t fit in with the Astarian and English aristocracy, as they were Irish, and she was known to be a bit of a “wild child”. She had long red hair, freckles, cream colored skin and green eyes. She often wore a black pleated skirt, black leggings, black low boots, a black short sleeved button up shirt, a green tie, and black gloves. “I can’t wait to go to your wedding! It’s going to be the event of the century!” Fiona mused. “It is going to be quite fun!” Alana beamed. “Come on! My mom is just over there! You should say “Hi!”. I know she hates the fact that we couldn’t attend your bridal shower!” Fiona chirped as she pointed towards a well dressed woman with brown hair and fair skin that was talking to a couple. It only took seconds for Alana to recognize the woman’s thin figure, straight long blonde hair, long maroon dress and pink shawl. The man standing next to the woman was wearing the same black suit, dark blue tie, and gray dress shirt she remembered him wearing the last time she saw him. His hair had gotten significantly grayer in time, but she knew exactly who he was. “No. Oh god... NO. What the fuck are they doing here?” She thought. “Clearly kissing up to the aristocracy.” The voice in her head piped up. “Perhaps we should let your mom finish speaking with that couple.” She stated. “Nonsense! Come on!” Fiona insisted as she grabbed Alana’s arm and started leading her to the trio.

“Mom! Mom! Look who it is!” Fiona called as she and Alana ran up to the woman. “Why if it isn’t little Melody Roster! Or, should I call you “Lady Melody”?” The woman asked as she smiled at the girls. “You can just call me “Melody”. Its good to see you Siobhan!” Alana smiled. The couple looked at Alana and instantly became alarmed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t come to your bridal shower dear! We’re definitely coming to the wedding!” Siobhan cheered. “I can’t wait to properly meet your groom! All the pics and video he’s in, I’ve gathered that he’s got to be a great guy! Really handsome too!” Fiona bubbled. “Ah, yes! Isn’t his name Nathaniel? I remember your mother mentioning that you two met and initially fell in love in High School...” Siobhan pondered out loud. “Yes! He was even the student body president when we met and started dating!” Alana sang. “Rini told me that you nearly got his dad sent to prison... Is that true?” Fiona asked. The couple looked at Alana, curiously. “Yes... Almost. His parents are utter garbage... To say the least. To the point that he’s even taking my last name after the wedding.” She explained. “Will they be there?” Siobhan asked. Alana shook her head. “No. While his sister and I have talked to him about the possibility... With my disapproval, of course... He’s adamantly rejected the mere idea that they would get anywhere near the event.” She stated. “I see... It has been mentioned that his father was abusive to him... And that his mother allowed it... I don’t see how anyone could do that to their child...” Siobhan sounded sad as she spoke. Alana gave Francis and Adelaide a sharp look. “Only weak fools who should never have had children in the first place abuse the children they have and keep. With Nathaniel’s parents, its clear that they wanted to live vicariously through their children by forcing their desired paths onto him and his sister. They are cruel, idiotic, and undeserving of any benefits that get sent their way. Luckily for Nathaniel, between my family happily accepting him into our ranks, society accepting his elevation to the station at my side, the friends he’s made over the years, and the reputation he’s gained by quickly becoming one of the best police inspectors in the area, his parents are more or less footnotes on history.” She remarked. “And that’s all they deserve to be!” Siobhan mused. “I hate to cut this short, but we have an appointment.” Adelaide quickly stated. “Oh, well. Sorry about all the wedding talk!” Siobhan shrugged, cheerfully. “Its fine. Until we meet again.” Francis spat through gritted teeth as he and Adelaide walked away. When they were out of earshot, Alana looked at Siobhan concerned. “I wouldn’t associate with them... After all, I’m sure you had no idea who they are...” She began. “Who were they?” Fiona asked. “That was Francis and Adelaide Jacott. Nathaniel’s parents.” Alana replied. “OH MY GOD! And you insulted them in front of their faces!” Siobhan gasped. Alana shrugged. “I really hate my in-laws. And its not like they’re gonna continue being in my life anyway, so who cares!”

★

The day before the wedding, Alana couldn’t help but be excited. “We’re getting married tomorrow!” She kept cheering as she and Nathaniel toured the Cathedral and Reception Venue. The Seaside Cathedral was an old, gothic style, cathedral that overlooked the ocean. The ceremony was set to take place at the main Sanctuary. Whereas the rest of the cathedral had intricate stained glass windows, the windows right behind the altar were clear. “The monks of this sect have always believed that the truest work of art was that of nature itself. Which is why the window panes are clear there. They worship by the lights of the sun and moon.” The historian explained as they walked through the Sanctuary. Workers were rushing everywhere in their efforts to make the venues look perfect. The decorations were coming along great. “I still don’t understand why you won’t use real flowers!” The wedding planner whined. A flicker of anger flashed across Alana’s face. “Because my husband-to-be is allergic to pollen and he should not have to take antihistamines just so he can enjoy our big day! We are sticking with the fake flowers!” She shot. “Yes ma’am!” The wedding planner shivered. When they got to the caterers, they presented the couple with a tasting of the wedding’s food options. “Locally sourced fish, pasture raised pork, grass fed beef, fruits and vegetables, all from the finest farms and fishing boats in the country!” The head caterer announced. “This all looks and smells divine!” Alana mused. “And you have menus prepared for each table?” Nathaniel asked. “Thank you ma’am.” The head caterer bowed as he turned to Nathaniel. “Yes Sir.” He replied. “Good.” Nathaniel nodded. “Would you two like a taste?” The caterer asked. “Nath, we don’t have time...” Alana urged. “Sweetie, we should taste it.” He encouraged. “But...” She looked nervous. “We’re getting married tomorrow. We can spare a few minutes tasting the food that will be served.” He reassured. After a few minutes, the pair concluded that the options being presented to their guests were utterly delicious.

“I’m kind of surprised the Red Death got a DJ for the wedding... I was expecting a full blown band.” Nathaniel laughed as he and Alana crashed down onto their couch. “Well, as much as Castiel said he’d be willing to, Crowstorm can’t play the entire reception. I want him to enjoy himself with everyone as well.” She chuckled. “He’ll at least play our first dance. I’ve made a special request.” He purred. “Oh? What song?” She queried, lovingly. “I’d like them to do a cover of ”Ev’ry Time We Say Goodbye” by Ella Fitzgerald. I love that song. It makes me think of you.” He cooed. The lyrics to the song instantly came to Alana’s mind and made tears come to her eyes. “Oh Nath...” She choked up. “Are you going to make any requests?” He asked. “Are you kidding? I made the music selection for the DJ of three hundred of the most romantic songs in history! Although, the first song they will play will be “Everything I Need” by Skylar Grey.” She blushed. “Three hundred?” He asked, a little shocked. “What? I wanted variety. There’s slow songs, upbeat ones, meaningful ones... Even a few that are great for the dancefloor!” She mused. “And our honeymoon? Are you still not going to tell me where we’re going?” He asked. Alana shook her head. “Nath, it’s a surprise for a reason! All you need to know is that you’re going to love it and that you’ll find out when it’s time!” She winked. Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door. “Its open!” She called. “Now, I hope you two don’t have any intentions of sleeping in the same bed the night before your big day!” Lynne jokingly scoffed as she and Nate entered the apartment. “I’d like to, yes.” Nathaniel sighed. “It’s bad luck! Melody! You know this!” Lynne looked at her, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Calm down mom. I was waiting on you two to get here anyway.” Alana rolled her eyes. “Wait, you knew about this?” Nathaniel inquired, confused. “Yeah. It is, traditionally, bad luck for the bride and groom to sleep together the night before the wedding... Just like how you can’t see my dress until the ceremony tomorrow, and how our friends and family have been giving us odd amounts when it comes to the money they’ve been sending us. It’s a matter of keeping the bad vibes, bad luck and easy to split karma, away from us. Hell, I had to fight Oma to get her to keep from insisting that I get “kidnapped” and you be forced to find me during all of this. You know my family is a bit superstitious.” She clarified. “We’ve rented cabins at opposite ends of the beach. Your clothes are already there. Nathaniel, you and the boys are with me, and Melody will be with Lynne and the girls.” Nate explained. “We’re even going in separate cars.” Lynne added. Nathaniel and Alana stood up and walked over to them. “Its time kids. You both need your rest. You’ve got a big day tomorrow!” Lynne smiled. “I guess I’ll see you at the altar.” Nathaniel smiled. “I’ll be the one in white!” Alana blushed. “I love you, my beautiful Melody.” Nathaniel cooed as he lightly kissed her. “I love you too. See you tomorrow.” She purred as Lynne and Nate began leading them out of Death’s Domain.

★

The day had finally arrived. After over a year of planning and anticipation, it was finally time for the big day. Lynne and Nate took the bride and groom to their dressing rooms in the Seaside Cathedral. In an effort to keep Nathaniel and Alana from accidentally seeing each other, the monks, Red Death and Lynne all agreed that it would be best if the dressing rooms were on separate halls in the same wing and that Alana would get to the cathedral first. The Red Death did his final checks and made sure the venues were perfect to Alana’s design. “Alright people! This day will be perfect!” He commanded. The cameraman was walking around the cathedral getting his scenery shots. The Red Death walked over to the cameraman. “Have you been into the dressing rooms?” He asked. The cameraman shook his head. “No sir.” He replied. “Good. Unlike other wedding videos, you will not be disturbing the bride and groom while they prepare.” The Red Death ordered. “Yes, sir.” The cameraman bowed as he took his equipment and walked around for more scenic shots. The cathedral was a vision of white, light blue, fake blue and white roses, gossamer ribbon and candles. The choir in the main Sanctuary was preparing and practicing for their performance.

Melody Roster had spent the past few hours getting ready. Her heart couldn’t help but pound the entire time. “I can’t believe its finally happening!” She thought. “I think I might cry!” the voice in her head blubbered. Agatha insisted on doing her hair in a braided up do. “I can’t believe I’m doing my niece’s hair for her wedding!” She chirped. Verity demanded to do her makeup. “My dear, you are already perfect... So, I’m just going to do some minor details.” She explained as she put a hint of bright blue eyeshadow, mascara, a thin line of eyeliner and pink lipstick onto her face. "My finest work! This is truly piece of art!” The dress designer cried when Alana finished putting her dress on. The room erupted with cheers of love and awe. Her wedding dress was a white, off the shoulder, ballgown that featured Alencon lace appliques throughout the design. “The veil attaches to the arm pieces to the dress. For, it is not a true veil. It is the cape of a queen!” The designer mused as she attached the veil. Lynne presented her with her necklace and earrings. “My sweet daughter, these jewels have been in our family for the past two hundred years. Spanning back to when we officially got our family crest. They have been worn by the brides in our family for several generations... And, today, they are yours.” she chorused. “Mom... Really? I get to wear the family jewels?” Alana’s voice broke as she looked at her mother with shock and awe. “Yes, my dear. It’s time.” Lynne smiled. “I made your bouquet myself.” Seraphina beamed as she presented her with a bouquet of fake blue and white roses. Severina, Noelle, Amber and Sam finally came into the room after getting dressed and instantly began praising Alana’s looks. “Alana You look amazing!” Amber gasped. “Utterly gorgeous!” Noelle smiled. Severina and Sam looked at each other and nodded. “Mels, while you do look amazing... Something is missing.” Sam commented. “Oh?” Alana asked. Severina went to her bag, pulled out a box and handed it to her. “Mels, before, you were Princess Serenity.... We’ve known for years that you’ve been dreaming of, one day, being Neo Queen Serenity. Today is the best day for you to finally live that dream.” Severina started. “We had this commissioned when Nathaniel first proposed. It has only been ready for a week.” Sam smiled. Alana opened the box and instantly had to hold back tears. Inside the box was a silver tiara with a blue gemstone. “You had her tiara made, but in my colors, just for me?” She asked, choking up. “We love you! And we really wanted to show it!” Severina cheered.

Nathaniel and his groomsmen stood around the room, waiting on the call to go to the Sanctuary, when there was a knock on the door. Ken walked over to the door and opened it. “Hey Nath, Amber is here to see you.” He smiled. “Hey big brother. You look fantastic!” She beamed as she walked into the room. “Thanks sis. You look good too.” Nathaniel grinned. “Yeah, Alana doesn’t have bad taste when it comes to style... Although, apparently the gemstones on our belts are a reference.” She commented. “Let me guess, Rini is gold, Noelle is blue, and Sam is green.” He speculated. “Yeah! How did you know?!” She blurted out, a little shocked. “Of course she’d have a Sailor Moon reference somewhere! It wouldn’t be her style without one!” He laughed. Amber looked a little teary eyed for a second. “I know our family is horrible... But I wish mom and dad could be here to see you actually be happy....” She lamented. He put his hand on her shoulder and did his best to grin. “Mom has had years to try to rebuild her relationship with me, and she has refused to... Therefore, they have no place in my happiness.” He admitted. Several minutes later, Amber left the room and Lynne had showed up. “Hey Lynne.” Nathaniel greeted as she hugged him. “Hey son! I just wanted to come see you before the ceremony!” She chirped. He looked at her nervously for a second. “H-How is she?” He asked, sheepishly. “She is the very definition of the word “radiant”... And she can’t wait to see you.” She sweetly grinned. A wave of relief came over his face. “Sweetheart, my daughter is not one for “cold feet”. You of all people know this. She ran back to you and brought the Black Tower with her when she left the first time. She is going to continue running towards you.” Lynne explained. “I know.” He sighed, still relieved. It wasn’t long before Lynne had to rush back to her daughter and two more people had come to see him. “Mr. Jacott, it’s good to see you.” The Police Chief smiled. “Hey man! Big day!” the other man blurted out. “Chief, Diego! Thank you for coming!” Nathaniel mused as the men walked up to him. “This is one hell of a wedding! It looks like the organization and Melody’s family went all out out there!” Diego excitedly commented. “Yeah... They’ve been doing that this entire time. No expense was spared.” Nathaniel nervously laughed. “Nothing is too much for the brightest shining star of my crown.” The Red Death mused as he and Derek walked in to the room. “Its nice to see you, Sir.” The Police Chief greeted as he shook the Red Death’s hand. “Likewise. I wasn’t expecting the two of you to see him before the ceremony.” The Red Death chirped. “We know he really doesn’t have any family... Except hers of course... So we wanted to wish him well.” The Police Chief explained. “Hey! He’s got us too!” Derek chimed in. “I thought you all would be at the Tower.” Nathaniel called. “Azrael has been... Dealt with for the day. The Paladins know how to run the Tower with the Executioners, Crown Jewels and me here.” The Red Death clarified. The Police Chief turned to Nathaniel. “Normally, I’d impart some form of marital advice... But, I’m not sure I have to this time. I remember the first time you entered my precinct. You were a thug with a sad backstory. Several of my highest officers wanted to write you off... But, Eric and I saw more in you. You wanted to do better. When Lady Melody came onto the scene, your determination to be a better man became even more prevalent. You became happier, better encouraged, and surrounded by people who clearly love you. I’m proud of how far you’ve come and I look forward to seeing your growth in the future. Congrats kid.” The Police Chief’s voice slightly wavered as he spoke. Tears had come to Eric’s, Diego’s and Nathaniel’s eyes. “Sir, that was so sweet.” Eric gasped. “I hate to cut this moment short, but its getting closer to time.” The Red Death interjected. “Oof! Looks like we’ve gotta go! Congrats Man! You seriously deserve this happiness!” Diego blurted out as he rushed towards the door. “You really do.” The Police Chief smiled as he left the room. Everyone in the room looked at Nathaniel, as if thinking the same thing. “Well, are you ready for this?” Eric asked. “Yes. I’ve been ready for this for years.” Nathaniel nodded, a hint of excitement in his tone.

An elegant melody had begun to play in the Sanctuary. The Red Death smiled and nodded as he rushed ahead of the men. The large doors could not quite contain the music and the sound of talking from the room. When the doors opened, everyone stood up and faced them. As Nathaniel and his groomsmen walked down the aisle, they could hear a couple of people make light comments on how they looked. “It’s almost as if they’re dissecting us.” Nathaniel thought. When he and his groomsmen took their places, the crowd went completely silent. After several minutes, the musicians played a slow song and the bridesmaids descended the aisle and took their positions. Once Sam was in place, the musicians stopped their music and the choir began to sing “Canon In D” by Pachelbel. Nathaniel looked at the door and his heart began pounding. Alana began slowly walking down the aisle, escorted by her mother. She looked at him and smiled. It was clear she was holding back her joy. Nathaniel wanted to run to her and take her into his arms, but he knew he couldn’t. He’d be holding her soon enough. “Wow... You’re stunning Alana! That dress is... I can’t put it into words... I feel like time is going by in slow motion, all of a sudden... And my heart is pounding so hard. Its the only thing I can hear... I... I’m trembling with emotion. I feel like everyone is looking at me... But seriously? All eyes are on you... And I understand why. I can’t take my eyes off you as you walk towards me. So this is what absolute happiness is like? Thank you, darling. Thank you for everything...” He thought. “You look wonderful.” She quietly mused when she joined him at the altar and Lynne had sat down. “You’re so beautiful!” He smiled as they joined hands and looked at the Red Death. “You may all be seated.” He prompted to the crowd. After the last person had taken their seat, he focused on the couple standing before him. “Friends, family, thank you all for coming to this joyous occasion. Today we gather here to witness the union of Melody Roster and Nathaniel Jacott in the bond of matrimony. Not only do we witness it, but we are here to bless and give our support to this decision. After all, it is a decision that most of us know has been a long time coming.” He began. Several people in the crowd chuckled. “That being said, it is a serious decision to make. This ceremony does not make your marriage. A lifetime of love, hard work, honesty, and patience does. Your dedication and perseverance must not waver. The vows that you are about to make are a way of saying that you know and understand what it is going to take to take this step, and that you are willing to fight for each other to the bitter end. Now, if I’m not mistaken, the bride and groom have prepared some vows of their own. So, I’ll let Melody begin.” The Red Death’s voice boomed throughout the room.

Alana looked at Nathaniel, nervously for a second before regaining her composure and smiling with tears in her eyes. “Nathaniel, my one true love, to say that I love you and I want to marry you is a horrible understatement. Those words could never hold the complexity and intensity of my love for you and my desire to be your wife. We have fought long and hard against several enemies to be together, and we have always come out victorious. Its been that way since the day we met, and I have faith that we will always be that way. You are the love of my life! I love you, I want you, and becoming your wife will fulfill one of my greatest dreams!” Her voice almost broke as she spoke. Nathaniel couldn’t hide the tears in his eyes. “You are the most wonderful, kind and beautiful man in the world, Nathaniel. I love you more than anything.” Alana thought. “And now, Nathaniel. Your vows.” The Red Death instructed. “Alana... My life has not always been a long quiet river. Sometimes I even feel like I’ve already lived several lives. But there’s one constant through all those moments, that gives them their unity and makes me the person I am... And that constant is your presence by my side. And if there’s only one single thing I yearn for today... It is to only have one life, where I can be there for you like you’ve always been there for me. I love you, Alana, and I want nothing so badly as to be your husband, for better or for worse.” The love in his voice overcame the room and left the crowd even more silent. Everyone in the Sanctuary was caught up in the emotion of the moment. The Red Death wiped a tear from his eye and cleared his throat. “After such moving vows, the strength of your commitment is especially obvious. If the person in charge of the rings could please step forward...” He motioned. Armin pulled the rings out of his jacket pocket and walked towards them. “Here you go!” He beamed. They took the rings from him and gazed into each other’s eyes. “Melody, place this ring on Nathaniel’s finger and repeat after me... With this ring, I thee wed. And with it, I pledge my eternal love and support.” The Red Death instructed. “With this ring, I thee wed. And with it, I pledge my eternal love and support.” Alana repeated, savoring every syllable and second as she placed the ring on Nathaniel’s finger. “Nathaniel, its your turn. With this ring, I thee wed. And with it, I pledge my eternal love and support.” The Red Death directed. “With this ring, I thee wed. And with it, I pledge my eternal love and support.” Nathaniel took his time reciting his lines as he placed the ring onto her finger. As if making sure to fill each and every word with meaning and emotion. Their eyes remained locked onto each other just as though they were trying to tell each other what the words couldn’t. “Let these rings be a symbol of the never-ending love you have promised to one another. Now, by the power of your love and commitment, and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss the bride!” The Red Death announced. Nathaniel gently brushed a bit of Alana’s hair aside, leaned in and kissed her. The wave of emotion that had been building the entire day came crashing down onto both of them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he wrapped his around her back, deepening the kiss and emphasizing the strength of the embrace. “THREE CHEERS FOR THE HAPPY COUPLE!” Derek called. The room erupted in cheers and clapping. When they had made it back up the aisle, they stopped and looked at the crowd. “PRESENTING, LADY MELODY ROSTER AND LORD NATHANIEL ROSTER!” The Red Death declared.

★

“When you’re near, there’s such an air of spring about it. I can hear a lark somewhere begin to sing about it...” Castiel sung as Nathaniel and Alana enjoyed their first waltz. “You’re right... This song is perfect for our first dance.” Alana cooed as she and Nathaniel glided across the dancefloor. “I told you.” Nathaniel smiled. “You know? I remember the day we first met... I fell for you instantly... And as we got to know each other better, I fell harder and harder...” She commented. “I honestly didn’t think that day would change my life, but I’m glad it did. You walking through that door was one of the greatest moments in my life.” His voice cracked.

“Alright everyone! As the Best Man, I have to give a speech.. So, sit down and listen!” Armin ordered when everyone sat down to eat. “Nath, Alana... Its not hard to say that you two are my best friends. And it’s really easy to tell, even back then, who she was going to end up with... Nath, you got the one girl in our class that actually likes comic books, videogames and anime that was single at the time... But its okay, because you’re just as nerdy as she is! You both kick ass and take names, and together, you’re actually a terrifying team! That being said, you two are still some of the smartest, most fun, people I know! I’m glad you finally got married, because... Honestly? You deserve all the happiness in the world!” He chimed on as he raised his glass. “Let’s raise a toast to Nath and Alana!” He urged. “Here! Here!” Kentin mused. “To Nathaniel and Melody!” Everyone chorused as they raised their glasses.

★

“Where are you taking us?” Nathaniel asked as they sat down on the private jet. “Somewhere you wanna go.” Alana smiled. He looked at her, curiously. “Where?” He asked. “I’ll give you a hint.” She winked as she pulled out a box and opened it. “What is that?” He inquired. “The hint.” She replied. Inside the box was an ocarina. “I don’t know, Ireland?” He guessed. “We’ve been there. But, perhaps this will tell you.” She cooed as she began playing a song. “I know that song...” He stated as he pondered where he had heard it. Suddenly, his eyes shot up and he became filled with excitement. “That’s “Concerning Hobbits!” from The Fellowship of the Ring!” He blurted out. “Yes it is. Now, where am I taking you?” She asked. “New Zealand?!” He asked, sounding a little like a small child. “Yes, my love. And I’ve made it to where we can see everywhere they filmed. One of Nate’s friends will be showing us around.” She mused. “Alana! I love you!” He cried as he hugged her. “I love you too!” She chirped. “But, why? You’re not as big of a fan of it as I am.” He queried. “Because its one of your dreams. Not just one of your dreams, one of your childhood dreams. You’ve fulfilled several of mine with me... And, I want to fulfill yours with you. I’m still surprised you didn’t mention your dream to go there when we traveled the world after college.” She explained. “I know I could have... But, I wanted it to be for something special...” He looked down. “Well, what’s more special than our honeymoon!” She beamed. He looked at her, the brightest smile on his face and tears in his eyes. “I love you so much Alana. My magnificent wife... I am so happy and proud to be your husband!”

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I used Nathaniel’s vows from Episode 16 of Love Life... I also used several other direct quotes.

This has been a long time coming... And I’m glad I took the extra time and effort for it.

Credits:

@chinomiko and Beemoov for My Candy Love

@candysweetposts for Alana’s sprite

I edited Nathaniel’s sprite myself.

I found the background on Pinterest.

46 notes · View notes

elliemarchetti · 3 years

Text

The Most Beautiful and Golden of the Cages

Nobody cares, but I like it, so bear with me and accept this fourth chapter of my Haldir x half-elf fem!OC fic.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Words: 2677

For the first time since they had left Rivendell, her rest wasn’t disturbed by dreams or noises, and she opened her eyes again only the next morning, when Gimli knocked on the door to make sure she was okay. The days passed almost all the same, each moment illuminated by a clear sun, except when a drizzle fell, leaving everything fresh and clean. The air was sweet and mild, as if it was tender spring, yet everyone felt around them the deep and thoughtful stillness of winter. Even the attentions of Haldir, who at the behest of the Lady hadn’t returned to his usual task, gave her the same feeling: his smile was mild and his actions sweet, but his deep eyes let it be seen that something was troubling the quiet in his thoughts, and even while they ate and drank there was no lightheartedness in his gestures, as if only among the trees and the constant danger he really felt at home. Elva decided it was time to face the conversation in the only moment they had alone, that was before going to rest.

“If you wish to go back to your brothers and mansion, we can sleep with the rest of the Fellowship, there is no need for you to stay any longer in a house you certainly don’t love.”

Her words seemed to take him by surprise, and for a moment she feared he would take refuge in his room without giving any answer.

“To be your guide, even now we’re within the city walls, is a great honour, especially when your mission is so noble,” he replied, always with tender courtesy. He had praise and beautiful words to dedicate to her, but his gaze never rested too long on her figure, nor did their hands touched after they entered the gates.

“Yet you don’t seem satisfied,” she insisted, hoping not to be too intrusive, even though her mere presence within the talan told another story.

“Maybe I'm just unaccustomed to city life: I’ve lived in the woods for a long time now, and although I’m the only one in the family who travels to distant lands, I don’t like to sleep in a soft bed when my brothers face great risks every day,” he admitted, finally, and the subject was no longer brought up, but the next evening, as they were walking together in the cool twilight, silence fell again. They had both felt restless for the whole afternoon, unable to face the shadow of parting, but Elva knew it was something they had to address, mostly because they were going to give up each other’s reassurance for probably a violent fate.

“It’s wonderfully quiet here,” she commented, determined not to start too brutally. “Nothing seems to be going on, and nobody seems to want it to.”

“It’s the Lady’s magic,” he explained, in a neutral tone. “You can’t touch it, but I’m sure you can see and feel it everywhere.”

He was right, but the thing that struck her most was the latent intolerance he expressed toward the land he swore to protect, for which he could also have died at the hands of an Orc while patrolling, or perhaps it was directed to those who commanded it, but Elva didn’t dare to ask, mindful of Legolas’ words about Mirkwood. It’s the most beautiful and golden of the cages, but in the end, it still remains a cage, he said, during a full moon night, to explain to her what drove him to continually piss off his father and get away from his duties as heir to the throne. Even the excessive beauty of Lothlorien reminded her of home, where the benevolence shown hid the trap of a cunning king.

“I don’t think you can do much more to help us, magic or not,” she finally admitted, for the first time aloud. Until that moment, she had kept it in her thoughts, fearing it might become real, but now she knew she must accept it and go on.

“Before you go, you’ll have to see the Lady one more time,” he explained, and as if she had heard him, Galadriel appeared from a lawn, tall, white and fair, silently beckoning them to follow her toward the southern slopes of Caras Galadhon’s hill, where, crossing a green hedge, they entered a garden without trees, which opened to the clear sky where the first stars, glowing with white fire on the western woods, could be seen. The Lady descended a long staircase that led into a deep hollow, crossed by the murmuring stream that gushed from the fountain on the hill, creating a low and shallow silver basin, next to which was a silver jug. With water from the stream, Galadriel filled to the brim a tub with a pedestal carved like a leafy tree.

“This is my Mirror,” she said, in that distant, ancient voice. “I brought you here so you can look at yourself, if you wish.”

“What do I have to look for?” Elva asked, watching full of wonder the pale elf. She wasn’t deluded, probably that place would be or had already been shown to all the other travellers, but at the moment she felt important, as if the Mirror could reveal to her something it had kept silent even to its owner.

“What you wish to see, if that’s what you desire,” replied the Lady. “But the Mirror can also spontaneously show images of things that were, are and still must be, which are often strange and useful. Do you want to watch?”

The half-elf didn’t answer right away: she would’ve liked to know what was happening at home, to her friends and her king, but she was afraid she would only see the reflection of the stars, or something she wouldn’t be able to understand.

“Remember, the Mirror is a dangerous guide, as it shows many things and not all of them have already occurred, while some will never happen, if only who saw didn’t abandon their way to prevent them,” Galadriel warned her.

“I don’t think you’re advising me to look, but rather to see something,” Elva replied. No one in Mirkwood spoke in riddles, but Haldir’s ignorance about the High Elves harbours and all the ceremoniousness of their meeting with the Lord and the Lady led her to assume those elves were no more like them than the dwarves for the hobbits.

“Seeing is at the same time good and dangerous, yet I believe you have guts and wisdom enough to take the risk, otherwise you wouldn’t have revealed to your guide what my spouse and I have been hiding from our people for a long time,” replied the woman, but without any trace of the annoyance or anger she might’ve expected facing the topic. Of course it wasn’t necessary to ask her how she knew, but was she telling that her words had a positive influence on Haldir? She didn’t have the courage to turn to look at her companion’s face to find out, yet, she felt like she needed to dodge even the powerful woman’s gaze, who didn’t need to read her mind anyway to know what she was thinking.

“So, do you wish to look?” she insisted, when faced only with silence.

The marchwarden hadn’t spoke a word for the whole time, and although Elva would’ve preferred for him, who knew the Lady more thoroughly, to advise her, she decided on her own to have a peep, even if it seemed unsafe to be too close to Galadriel’s magic. Without touching the dark water, she leaned over the basin, and as if a veil had been instantly withdrawn, the Mirror grew grey and then clear, to show her the sun shining and trees branches waving and tossing in the wind, golden leaf falling way sooner than the spring buds blossom. Before she could make up her mind, the autumn light faded, and she saw Haldir, dying in her arms with many of his race around him. They were both covered in red and black blood, and she almost thought she could smell the stench of death in her nostrils, mixed with something that reminded her of wet soil, sweat and leather. His lips barely moved, but he told her to go ahead, and take care of his brothers. Without thinking, she looked away to meet his blue eyes, full of concern but at the same time as attractive as a clear sea on a hot summer day. As in a dream, she returned to his side, but everything was too strange and unreal to resist the urge she felt of touching him, a light peck on his hand just to be sure what was happening wasn’t yet another one of Galadriel’s mental games. His skin was warm, not dry with sweat as in the Mirror’s vision, but as soon as she reached out, he held her tightly, as if afraid she might fly away in the stagnant air and never come back. Obviously, the Lady hadn’t missed the whole scene, and when she asked her subject if he wanted to look too, the tone of her words had changed slightly, although Elva couldn’t understand if for the better or the worse.

“Do you advise me to do so?” he asked, but the woman answered with the umpteenth riddle, and the decision became only his. Very slowly, she felt the grip on her hand loosen, and for a moment, everything was suspended, superfluous, their barely touching fingers the only important thing. The separation was almost painful, and it seemed to Elva that between her and the elf, gazing so skilfully into the Mirror’s depth she supposed he had already done it, there were whole kingdoms and not just a dozen steps. If Lorien was apparently frozen in time, that place, like everything surrounding the Lady, seemed suspended above the laws of nature, beautiful and at the same time terrifying. Over time, she had learned that under too much perfection there was always something corrupt, something rotten, a secret to hide, perhaps in the shape of a chain mail sneaked under a tunic, or a ring delicately mixed with other shiny jewellery, slipped on a pale, slender finger. No description could ever match the wonder of seeing Nenya in person. The Ring of Adamant glittered like polished gold overlaid with silver light, and its white stone twinkled as if Earendil, the Evening Star, most beloved of the Elves, had come down to rest upon the bearer’s hand, making her suspicions therefore correct: the Galadhrim had deliberately and conveniently avoided mentioning that Galadriel was the keeper of one of the three elven rings, hence they couldn’t be trusted.

“Let what has to happen, happen,” the Lady murmured when Haldir finished his dose of horrors too, so softly that Elva almost feared she had imagined it. “You’re not responsible for Lorien’s fate, but only for the fulfilment of your mission.”

“You’re wise and fearless and fair, Lady Galadriel,” he answered, but before Elva could turn to look at her, and inquire what she meant by those words, she found only the marchwarden, the lights dying quickly and the magic of that place drained by the elf’s absence. Unable to confront with someone, for fear that the woman and her spouse might find out, she decided to remain silent and act as if nothing had happened, even though she was dying to pester Haldir with questions about both Lothlorien’s ruler and his attitude towards them, reverential and accommodating but far from the spell the couple seemed to cast on the rest of their subject, and what he had seen in the Mirror. The Lady hadn’t in itself forbidden them to tell each other what the Mirror had decided to reveal, but even just touching the question would’ve led her guest to ask her what she had glimpsed in its depths, and she wasn’t sure she could admit that he, and his death, were the backbone of the longest, and simplest to interpret, if it could be said, of the two narratives, of which there would be no time to speak anyway, as the Fellowship was again summoned to the chamber of Celeborn, where the Lord and Lady greeted them with kind words. At length they spoke of the departure and Galadriel confirmed that they all intended to continue, providing them with boats, which would allow the crossing of the Great River.

"Even if you haven't decided your path yet, Haldir will take you wherever you want, as he’s a skilled captain and we can do nothing more to help," the woman concluded, casting a long look at Elva, weighing her reaction. For she was a good diplomat, the half-elf tried to keep her expression neutral, but Gimli’s curiosity about that silent exchange was of no help, while Aragorn was luckily too distracted by the gift to care.

“All shall be prepared at the haven before noon tomorrow,” added Celeborn. “I’ll send my people in the morning to help you make ready for the journey, but now we’ll wish you all a fair night and untroubled sleep.”

The whole Fellowship, plus its temporary new member, took their leave and returned to the pavilion to take counsel together; for a long time they debated what they should do, and how it would be best to attempt the fulfilling of their purpose with the Ring, but they came to no decision, even if it was plain that most of them desired to go first to Minas Tirith, and to escape at least for a while from the terror of the Enemy. Some would’ve been willing to follow a leader over the River and into the shadow of Mordor, but Frodo spoke no word, and Aragorn was still divided in his mind, therefore Elva remained neutral, as she seemed to understand Gandalf wished before his early death. Admitting that he would never return still gave a strange feeling, above all because an inestimable number of mysteries would remain unsolved, and so many questions would remain unanswered, but by now she believed she had accepted it, the emptiness in her heart slowly filling up with a new and different feeling, which she had neither the time nor the energy to analyze, mostly because it would’ve been of no use, since, although she couldn’t yet know when, Haldir would still have to turn his back on them to return to the patrols in the woods with his brothers.

“I shall go to Minas Tirith, alone if need be, for it is my duty,” said Boromir, and after that he was silent for a while, sitting with his eyes fixed on Frodo, as if he was trying to read the Halfling’s thoughts like the Lady had done in their first meeting. Only at length he spoke again, so softly he was probably debating with himself: “If you wish only to destroy the Ring, then there’s little use in war and weapons, and the Men of Minas Tirith cannot help, but if you wish to destroy the armed might of the Dark Lord, then it is folly to go without force into his domain, and folly to throw away,” he said, before pausing suddenly, as if he had become aware that he was speaking his thoughts aloud.

“It would be folly to throw lives away, I mean,” he added. “It’s a choice between defending a strong place and walking openly into the arms of death, or at least, that’s how I see it.”

Elva hardly heard the last justification, too busy reliving a memory of the council, during which he had already expressed a thought of that kind. She looked at Haldir, but the elf seemed deep in his own thought and made no sign that he had heeded Boromir’s words, so their debate ended and those who would have slept in the talan took their leave for the last time, while the night grew old and dark on Caras Galadhon, maybe darker than ever.

#haldir x fem oc #lotr fic #haldir of lothlorien #galadriel #gimli son of gloin #celeborn #aragorn #legolas greenleaf #gandalf the grey #boromir #frodo baggins #half elf oc

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rainydaymiddleearthimagines · 3 years

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The Arrangement pt 2

Strider shook his head with laughter as you fell from a tree. “Owww” you whined. “How is it that you can climb trees but coming back down is an issue?” Strider teased. “I blame lack of balance.” you said. He kneeled next to you, pulling you forward before you winced. He shook his head and you sighed. “When are we heading back?” you asked. “We should be back by nightfall.” Strider said. You almost seemed to pout in response. “Come now, it won’t be that bad.” Strider said, helping you up. “It’s enough that I was born into the the title, but now I have to officially accept it through a ceremony. This is ridiculous.” You huffed. “Buuuttt you can’t get out of it.” Strider said. “I mean... You could kidnap me.” you suggested. He rolled his eyes. “Y/n, you know the deal.” he said. “Alright! Alright. But only if you suffer through the coronation too.” you said. “Y/n, I was already going.” He said. You grinned. “Really? Color me impressed for wanting to be there!” You said. “....I never said I wanted to go, I said I was going” He said.

You two walked, you listening to the trees with a sigh. “What are they saying?” He asked. He wasn’t elven and didn’t have the gift for listening to nature. He had heard from others on how elves could listen to nature. “Others have been through here. Probably on their merry little ways to my official ceremony of suffering.” you said making him shake his head. “Some people would kill for this life.” He said. “When have I been other people?” you asked. “...Fair point.” He nodded.

A wind brushed your face, almost like a caress. You smiled and let out a breath. "It's like the trees know I'm uneasy." You said. "What makes you nervous?" Strider asked. "I have a tendency to... Embarrass myself in front of the royalty in my family." You muttered. "I'm sure it's not--" "I've accidentally stabbed Galadriel with a fork at dinner. Do not finish that sentence." You halted. Strider blinked. "Y/n. Remember, there's at least two friends in that room with you." He said. "Two?" You asked. "I assume you're close with Arwen?" He asked. You nodded slowly but seemed to have a questioning look on your face. "...Yes. You seem to bring her up a lot more, is there something going on between you two?" You asked. Strider rose a brow. "Are you asking me if I'm involved with your sister?" He asked. "Are you?" You asked. "No." He said.

While Arwen was beautiful, she was different. You were more complex, more unpredictable. Arwen was, to put it simply, who Elrond wanted you to be. You had certain similarities, you were unbelievably kind, intelligent, and definitely beautiful. But your beauty was ethereal. It was unreal to Strider how you seemed so beautiful at times where you didn't mean to. When you were pulling back your hair, when you were listening to the trees, when you reading, when you were talking to your sister and laughing with her. It made him question if Arwen was accurate in her thinking.

Something about seeing you actually enjoy home at times made him happy. It let him know that you weren't completely miserable where you were, just not exactly happy with your situation. It was way to assure him that you were okay once he left. At times Strider didn't really want to leave you. Hell. There were days were he actually missed you. He'd keep it to himself but it would show when he'd see you again and he'd smile.

You walked, looking over at Strider who was awfully quiet. "What's going on in that head of yours?" You asked. He realized he had been lost in thought this whole time, being quiet. It wasn't an unusual thing by any means for him to go silent. It was slightly unusual though for him to be silent while staring at you. Course that would be unusual for anyone.

"You'll make a good ruler one day." He said. You let out a small chuckle but realized he was being sincere. "...What makes you say that?" You asked. "You have the heart of a good queen." He said. You blinked, stopping and looking at him. "What?" He asked. "Nothing. Just a odd thing I've heard from a friend." You said. That's when you seemed to perk up. "I just realized something!" You gasped. He blinked. "What?" Strider asked. "Come on!" You ushered him forward. "Wha-- Y/n, what's going on?!" He asked, laughing slightly at your child-like excitement. "One of my friends is coming to this!" You said. "So you do have friends!" Strider teased. "He's actually a prince. Really interesting. Come onnnn!" You said rushing.

You were moving faster now, finally reaching Rivendell as the sun set. Elrond was greeting Galadriel, when he looked over. You noticed the familiar white horse, the elven sigil on inscribed on it's saddle. You dragged Strider with you as you looked around. "Arwen!" You whisper shouted. She looked over. "You're back early." She noticed. "Is he here?" You asked. She rolled her eyes. "I rarely get to see him!" You huffed. She pointed and you dragged Strider by his hand. Arwen shook her head with a small smile as he seemed to laugh. He was in love and she knew it. The question was: did he know yet?

"Legolas!" You called. A white haired figure turned around, a smile falling over him as you hugged him. "It is good to see you old friend!" You said. He pulled away blinking. "There's a man here." Legolas noticed. "Oh, Strider this is Legolas. Legolas this is Strider, my best friend." You introduced. Legolas shook his hand. "I see I've been overthrown as her best friend." Legolas teased. "You're never here to reclaim that title." You said with an eye roll. Strider looked around him, seeing the royalty. He felt slightly out of place but didn't seem to care. "Have you said hello to Arwen yet?" You asked as she walked over. "Not yet-- hello your grace." He answered.

"Good evening Legolas." She said with a smile. "Glad to see my sister is actually enjoying herself." Arwen said. "Is Haldir here?" You asked. "Yes, he's going to be there." Arwen said. She looked at you and sighed. "You need to change Y/n." She said, knowing damn well there would be a struggle. "As do you." She added to Strider. "I--" "I've left clothes in the room you usually stay in, Y/n if you struggle with me tonight out of all nights there will be hell to pay." She said, gritting her teeth while maintaining that sweet smile. "Oh I will wreak havoc." You muttered as she dragged you off, making Strider smile.

"How long have you known Y/n?" Legolas asked, sitting on the edge of the fountain. "A few months." He said. "I take it you're staying for the coronation?" Legolas asked. "Yes I am." He nodded. "Elrond has referred to you as an ambassador of sorts." He said. Strider bit back a laugh at this but nodded. "Word of advice. Stick to the back on the walls with Haldir and me and you should be fine." He said. "You really should change though. Elves in this setting tend to be..." Legolas leaned forward. "Judgmental. Emphasis on the mental." He said earning a silent snort from Aragorn.

Aragorn changed rather quickly, leaving his belongings in what was now basically his designated room. He looked at the ring that rested in one of the pockets in his pack, closing his eyes and remembering simpler times when his father spoke of preparing him for a day like this. Elrond was aware of his identity, giving the ring to him. How Elrond found out was lost on Aragorn, but he knew nonetheless. For some reason, you didn’t know. He wasn’t going to question why but he was confused on why your father wouldn’t tell you that he was the heir to Isildur. He put the ring back in the bag, walking out and back to Legolas.

"Why is Y/n taking so long?" Strider asked. "Have you met her? She's probably fighting Arwen out of the dress as we speak." Legolas said. Truth be told he had never seen you out of armor. Not in royal garb anyway. You were always running wild in your armor, bringing stress to your father when Strider made himself present. "They're making it seem like the coronation is tonight." Strider said, noticing the servants run back and forth. "Tonight is the dinner before it with the leaders. Unfortunately we all must sit and suffer through it." Legolas muttered. "You don't seem to enjoy the royal life like the rest do." Strider noticed. "Me and Y/n share opinions on this. We believe the best way to keep a kingdom safe is to assist the people, making a point to not fear straying outside of the gates to actually protect your land. Instead our rulers don't leave their homes unless it's a political reason." Legolas explained. Strider nodded. "You don't get along with your father, do you?" He asked. "No. I don't." Legolas said. "Hm. I'm really beginning to understand the dynamic of your friendship with Y/n." Strider said. Legolas smiled, nodding. "The parallels of our lives are not lost on us." He said.

Finally you walked down the stairs, air getting stuck in Strider's throat. The dress was blue, sleeves hanging off you. You wore a small silver circlet, really showing your role as princess. "Arwen, this is very uncomfortable." You whispered. "Deal. With. It." She whispered. You rolled your eyes, walking over. "I see she attacked you with a corset." Legolas said. "And my own crown. This. Is. Hell." You muttered. Strider's eyes seemed wide as he looked at you. You looked over at Strider, stopping for a moment. "You... Clean up nice." You said, Legolas noticing the strange tension. "...As do you." Aragorn said. Arwen and Legolas exchanged a knowing look.

Elrond came over, making you cut your attention away. "The dinner is commencing soon, are you ready?" He asked. "Yes father." You said. "Strider is your escort tonight and tomorrow. My gift to you." He said with a slight eye roll. "Thank you father." You said with slight relief. "And you both look beautiful. Your mother would've loved to see this." Elrond said, putting a loving hand to your cheek. You and Arwen gave small smiles. Your eyes seemed to gloss over with sadness. "Strider, a moment please." Elrond said. He followed the lord, speaking with him. "Please try to keep Y/n calm. She has a tendency to... Shoot off at the mouth with royalty. Tonight out of all nights I need her to be proper." Elrond said. "I will do what I can, you know Y/n--" "There is no controlling her." Both of the men said in unison. It was odd really. It was like for a second they were... Bonding? "I can't make any promises, but I will do what I can." Strider said. "Thank you. Oh and if anyone asks, you're an ambassador." Elrond said before leaving. "... Ambassador?" He muttered to himself.

Strider walked back over, you looking at him. He smiled slightly and you smiled back, looking down as Arwen and Legolas talked. "It seems our team is back together." Haldir said, walking over. You chuckled, hugging the man. "team?" Strider asked. "Oh this group usually stays glued to the wall, whispering amongst themselves and trying to break the royal guard." Haldir said. "Break the royal guard?" Strider asked. "Guards here are trained to be very stoic and stone faced. They will stand next to them and get these men with years of training to crack a smirk, smile or laugh." Haldir said with a small laugh. "I believe our record was fifteen minutes, after the words 'flarpy blunderfloof' came out of Y/n's mouth." Arwen recalled making you all laugh. Strider smiled at this. You seemed to enjoy this particular group of people and that was nice, to see a smile like that on your face.

"Y/n, we're starting." Elrond called. You winced. "Shit." You muttered. The group all walked, Strider next to you. Galadriel and Thranduil stood near the table conversating with one another. Your heart pounded in your ears as you stood there, grabbing Strider's hand as an instinct out of fear. He looked over, seeing your frozen features. “Y/n. Breathe.” Legolas said, standing on your other side. “My. feet. won’t. move.” you muttered. “Y/n. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Galadriel said. You let go of Strider’s hand, Galadriel hugging you, She whispered an incantation in your ear, you immediately feeling calmer. “Thank you.” You whispered. “You seemed anxious.” she said softly, pulling away. “Let’s sit.” Legolas suggested. You nodded, Legolas pulling your chair out for Arwen’s chair out before he sat down. Strider pulled your chair out before sitting next to you, you looking at the elves around you. Legolas nudged you, nodding to the stone faced soldiers by the doors and you bit back a smile.

The evening continued with talks of politics, speaking of the leaders. Then the story of the ring made the air tense “Whatever happened to that ring anyway?” One of the ambassadors asked. “Isildur never disposed of it. It’s been lost ever since.” Elrond said. Strider seemed to tense up, swallowing his drink. You seemed bored by the conversation, Strider taking it as you’ve heard this many times. Arwen looked over at Strider who had a unreadable expression. “I don’t think it has been... Completely lost.” you said, earning looks to you. “Are you implying you know where the ring is?” Thranduil asked. You shifted slightly. “I’ve heard rumblings. From the trees and the earth. Something is happening out there. Something strange.” You said. “I’ve heard similar rumblings myself.” Galadriel agreed. Good. So you weren’t on the brink of insanity.

“Considering how long the ring has been hidden, I don’t expect it to turn up any time soon.” Thranduil commented. “Neither do I. Though it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.” Elrond nodded. “It won’t turn up for at least another twenty years.” Galadriel said. “Experiencing your visions again dear?” Celeborn asked. “This is one I can see clearly.” She said simply. “It will come to us in a unexpected form.” She said. “Will we be rid of the damn thing?” Thranduil asked. “That is not clear.” She said with slight disappointment. Legolas looked over at you with a small distain.

“While we’re on the subject of foresight... Is there any way you can examine Y/n or at least Arwen?” Elrond asked. You turned your vision to Galadriel. “Would you mind?” Galadriel asked. You stood up, moving to her. Thranduil moved so you could sit in his seat, you giving her your hands as you sat. “There are many things to see with you my dear.” She said, closing her eyes. “You have a strong will to protect. Very appropriate for a leader to have.” Galadriel said softly. Strider rose a brow as Galadriel opened her eyes, wide with surprise. “Is something wrong?” you asked. “You will sit upon a throne if the future is hopeful.” She said. “with the man.” She added, everyone’s vision going to Strider. “I don’t think--” “There is more to you than you are telling us.” She said. Strider swallowed hard, disturbed by this comment.

You looked at Galadriel and then Strider. “You are--” “stop.” you halted. Everyone looked to you. “I trust Strider. If he truly has been keeping another identity then he will tell me with time.” You said simply. “You put a lot of trust in someone who’s been lying to you.” Thranduil said, a disapproving look on his face. “It was foolish to assume is birth name was ‘Strider’ to begin with. I think it’s more of a title than an actual name.” You fired back. “She’s not wrong.” Strider said, clearing his throat. “We were well aware of the concealed identity.” Arwen said with a sigh. You looked over surprised. “Foresight runs within my veins as well.” She said. “You know?” Strider asked, now realizing how Elrond must’ve learned this. “I have known for two months.” She said, sipping on her elven wine. She must’ve told Elrond... She had to for him to just abruptly give him the ring. “Strider. A word.” You said, nodding to the doors.

You pulled him into another room. “What the hell is going on in there?” you asked. “I...” He sighed. “I will explain after this. It’ll make more sense.” He said. “Promise me that I can still trust you after this.” you said. He paused, looking in your eyes. “Promise me that you are going to be honest with this, and tell me the truth.” You said. He couldn’t lie to those eyes. Those beautiful, telling eyes. “I will try.” he said. You nodded before walking back in.

The evening continued, an awkward tension over everyone as time passed. Finally though, it was over, you and Strider walking to his room. “Are you going to explain?” you asked. He nodded, walking over to his pack. He pulled out the small silver band, it made to look like two serpents protecting the small emerald in the center. You recognized this and stared at him with wide eyes. “You’re... There’s no way.” You gaped. “I am Aragorn. Son of Arathorn II and Gilraen.” He said. You swallowed. “Now I know why you kept it from me. That’s... Quite a lot of information to process.” You gaped. “Take all the time you need, I understand if this makes things tense between--” “Why haven’t you made a claim for Gondor?” you asked. He put his hand on the back of his head, looking away. “I don’t trust myself to be a leader.” He admitted. “Why?” You asked. “My ancestor, the one from which I receive this ring from, is someone who became mad with power.” He said. You frowned. “What if temptation weakens me like it did him?” Aragorn asked. You stepped forward, lifting both of his hands and pulling back his sleeve and placing both of your thumbs on his veins. “You may share his blood Aragorn. But you will never be like Isildur.” you said softly. “How do you know that?” Aragorn asked. “Because Isildur wouldn’t have been worried about messing things up this badly to a point where he walked away from power.” You said. He looked down and you shook your head. “There’s a heart that beats strong in your chest, one that fights every day to be less like his ancestors. For that I find you honorable.” you said softly.

Aragorn swallowed hard, looking at you with wide eyes. “I should go to bed. Long day tomorrow.” you breathed. “Oh! What do you wish for me to call you?” you asked. “What?” He asked. “You’re clearly uncomfortable by your heritage so do you want me to call you ‘Strider’ or ‘Aragorn’?” You asked. He pondered. “Aragorn when we’re here or just you and me, Strider when we’re elsewhere and in the presence of others.” He said. “You got it, Aragorn.” you said, small smirk coming to play upon your lips as you left.

Aragorn looked at the silver band that now rested on his bed. When he first received this ring it almost seemed to mock him with intimidation. Tonight though, he finally had a voice, clear as day give him reason. For the first time, Aragorn didn’t hate his name. For the first time, he could actually breathe.

For the first time, he wore the ring.

#aragorn x reader #aragorn imagine #aragorn #lord of the rings

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marta-bee · 3 years

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So today I came across this very cute Good Omens fan-comic, about the importance of watching your “Oh My God”s whilst in the throes of passions, if you are an ethereal being and so prone to having such invocations ... misinterpreted. And aside from being just adorable, it reminded me of some of my favorite passages from Laws and Customs Among the Eldar, a quasi-canon Tolkien text that describes among other things Elven marriage ceremonies.

Specifically:

After the betrothal it was the part of the betrothed to appoint the time of their wedding, when at least one year had passed. Then at a feast, again shared by the two houses, the marriage was celebrated. At the end of the feast the betrothed stood forth, and the mother of the bride and the father of the bridegroom joined the hands of the pair and blessed them. For this blessing there was a solemn form, but no mortal has heard it; though the Eldar say that Varda was named in witness by the mother and Manwe by the father; and moreover that the name of Eru was spoken (as was seldom done at any other time). The betrothed then received back one from the other their silver rings (and treasured them); but they gave in exchange slender rings of gold, which were worn upon the index of the right hand. Among the Noldor also it was a custom that the bride's mother should give to the bridegroom a jewel upon a chain or collar; and the bridegroom's father should give a like gift to the bride. These gifts were sometimes given before the feast. (Thus the gift of Galadriel to Aragorn, since she was in place of Arwen's mother, was in part a bridal gift and earnest of the wedding that was later accomplished.)

And:

It was the act of bodily union that achieved marriage, and after which the indissoluble bond was complete. In happy days and times of peace it was held ungracious and contemptuous of kin to forgo the ceremonies, but it was at all times lawful for any of the Eldar, both being unwed, to marry thus of free consent one to another without ceremony or witness (save blessings exchanged and the naming of the Name); and the union so joined was alike indissoluble.

(emphasis mine)

Granted, it’s a naming, not technically an invocation, but if there’s not a fanfic out there exploring the true comedic potential, there really should be.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #good omens

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silhouette-cosplay · 5 months

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✨Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen, yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!✨

so glad we were able to catch the last of the autumn leaves for Galadriel!

photos by @sennedjem

#galadriel: ceremonial silver #galadriel #galadriel cosplay #lotr #lotr cosplay #lord of the rings #tolkien #rings of power #trop #morfydd clark #my cosplays

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ruthoakenshield · 3 years

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Thorin and the Gem Carver (part 18)

After a few hours, Balin and Arwen return. She is giggling and excited to show you what Balin made, but you were still sleeping. Balin shows Thorin the beads and explains that when they got to the forge, Mahal appeared to them and gave them the tiny gemstones. Thorin immediately recognizes them as the same ones in the beads from Mahal for your Mistress Gem Carver beads. The beads Balin made are of the purest gold they had and blessed by Mahal to never be destroyed nor damaged. He explains that Mahal instructed him what carvings to put on the bead and where to put the stones. It is indeed a beautiful set and are unique beads.

Arwen giggles and says, “Mahal asked me if he could show Balin how to do the braid using my hair! I said he could, and he showed Balin how to do the braid, then took it out and asked if Balin might give it a try. I nodded and he did the braid in my hair. When Mahal nodded, he had done it right, he took it out and then he made the beads.

“When she wakes, we can put them into her hair. Thorin, since you are courting her and she is unable to weave the family braid into my hair, you will need to do it for her.” He tells Thorin. Thorin nods.

“Balin, when should we do the ceremony for the announcement of the Mistress Gem Carver’s Guild?” It will take time to get word sent to all the kingdoms of Middle Earth.” He says. “What do you mean, Thorin?” Arwen asks.

Balin chuckles. “We currently have 20 different guilds for different trades, Arwen. Typically, those Dwarves that are able to create the best of that trade, are referred to as “Master” level in that trade regardless of their gender. Like Jade was given the title “Master Gem Carver” by your Father and Galadriel.

This can get to be a problem, though, especially when Humans expect a male to do the work and a female shows up to do it. In the Carver’s guild there are three sub-guilds: The Gem Carver’s, The Wood Carver’s and the Metal Carver’s. Mahal has decreed that the Gem Carver’s guild be split to distinguish between the males and the females.

Thorin liked the idea and expanded it to apply to all the guilds. So now all guilds will have two halves or counterparts. One male and one female. Males who are at the ‘Master’ level will be granted the title “Master” and the Females at the same level will be granted the title “Mistress”. He explains.

Mahal told Thorin to summon all the realms of Middle Earth to inform them of this new change in the organization of the guilds, so that there is clarity with who exactly will be doing the work and that they understand that both the “Mistress and the Master” are at the exact same level and quality and the only distinction is the gender of the artisan.” Balin explains to Arwen.

“Oh, I see!” Arwen says. “What are the guilds you have now?” she asks. “We have: a Food guild, Jeweler/Whitesmith’s guild, Weapons & Armor Guild, Trade Guild, Language & Lore guild, Dwarven Council, Healer’s Guild, Carver’s Guild, Stonesmith’s Guild, Lampsmith’s Guild, Toymaker’s Guild, Military, Blacksmith’s Guild, Spurriers Guild, Cartwright/Woodworker’s guild, Musician’s Guild, Stable Guild, Hunter’s Guild and the Textile’s Guild.

We plan to add one more now, the Royal Bookmaker’s Guild in honor of one of our elderly and Master Level Royal Bookmaker who has dedicated her entire life to bookmaking for the Royal family. She created this as a wedding gift for Thorin prior to the Fall of Erebor.” Balin explains and hands Arwen the book Miranda made for Thorin.

“OH!!! It’s beautiful!!!” She exclaims as she admires the work. “Adda (Father) has a few books like this that Thror gifted to him to write his Lores of Middle Earth in!” she says. Balin chuckles. “Then Miranda most likely made them for Thror. There are not many of those books that were allowed outside of this mountain. She was one of our hidden treasures. Her work was highly prized by the line of Durin. It was indeed a rare and highly honored gift to receive one of her books!” Balin tells Arwen.

“I would like to meet her if I may.” Arwen asks. Balin smiles and looks at Thorin. Thorin thinks for a moment, and nods. We will be summoning her here later on today to inform her of the honors we wish to offer her. She is very old, even by dwarf standards and Mahal informed me her time here is drawing to it’s end. We wish for her to pass her knowledge on, so that it’s beauty and skills are not lost like so many of our artisans’ skills have been thanks to Smaug.” Thorin tells Arwen.

“Would I be allowed to learn her skills?” Arwen asks. Thorin thinks and looks at Balin. Balin shrugs. “It would be up to Miranda, as long as Thorin does not mind.” Balin tells Arwen. She grins happily. Then thinks for a minute. “If you are able to decide when to do the ceremony, Ada and I could bring the invitations with us and deliver them on our way back to Rivendell.” She offers. “We could send the ones to the northern peoples and the ones in the south west of the Misty Mountains, Hobbiton and the Dunedain for you.” She offers.

Thorin and Balin look at each other and nod. “Thank you, that would indeed be helpful to us.” Thorin states. “I know many are too far from here or are unwilling to travel to Erebor for such a ceremony. We will send with those, a more detailed explanation, the same that will be explained during the ceremony.” He tells Arwen. She nods.

They talk until lunch time and Bombur and his children bring in the noon meal for those in your room. Oin wakes you, Arwen and Thorin help raise you just enough for the pillows to be propped under you so you can eat.

Once you are finished, Balin comes over and shows you the beads he made. He explains what each one is for and then asks if he may braid your hair. You nod and he takes a section of hair, behind your ear on both sides of your head and under the diamond braids and braids his family’s braid pattern into each section of your long hair stopping the braid half way down, at your shoulder.. He then affixes his family’s beads to it, then continues the braid all the way to the end and affixes a plain silver end clasp.

Balin then braids a second set of braids into your hair on either side, with the pattern Mahal showed him just beside his family’s braid and your birth Father’s braid naming you, and attaches Mahal’s beads to them at your shoulder height, then continues the braid to the end and again caps it off with a simple gold cap.

Thorin takes out your courting braid, smoothes out the hair, then sections it off and does a new courting braid that Yavanna had showed him how to do. He braids it to just above your shoulders, puts in the beads, then braids the rest of the way down to the end and caps it off with simple gold beads.

Next Thorin undoes your Master Gem carver braid. You ask what he is doing, and he tells you what Mahal instructed. “Oh. Okay.” You reply. He puts his old courting braid design into your hair at your temples, and braids it to the end, capping it with the beads from the Elves. Then he carefully does the diamond design, with your explaining how the maid did it as he went. Soon, he has it in place, and you are grinning looking in the mirror Arwen is holding for you to see your new braids. “Thank you.” you tell them, and they all smile.

While Thorin puts the braids into Balin’s hair on your behalf, he and Balin explain what Mahal told Thorin about the Gem Carver’s Guild and explained that there is to be an official ceremony in front of representatives of the realms of Middle Earth who are willing to come, to present you as the first Mistress Gem Carver. They explain that at that ceremony you will be officially given the book from Thorin that Mahal blessed, the beads Mahal created will be put into your hair and you will be given a signet ring that states your title as Mistress Gem Carver. They tell you what Mahal said about the diamond hairstyle that will now be used to designate all Mistress Gem Carvers. You reach up and touch the diamond braids that are in your hair. “My maid will be honored that Mahal recognized her design and idea to even create such a hair style!” you giggle.

The dwarves chuckle and nod. “Sweetheart, when do you think you’d be willing to have this ceremony done?” Balin asks. “It will take time to plan everything and get announcements sent out in time for them to reach to the farthest parts of Middle Earth.” He tells you. You shrug. “I will do it whenever you decide, Adad. Hopefully by then, I will at least be able to stand with out needing to be held upright!” you sigh.

Arwen holds your hand. “You will be standing by that time, my Little Sister.” She assures you with a mischievous grin and a wink.” You smile.

“I do not like being the center of attention, but I will do this because Mahal has asked it of me to. I will leave it up to you to decide when to have it.” You say. Thorin takes your other hand and cups it between his two hands, “Thank you, Ghivashel (treasure of all treasures). We will see how you fare this week and will go from there in deciding a date for the ceremony.” Thorin tells you.

“Sweetheart, would you like to meet the Dwarrowdam who made the elegant book I bought for you?” he asks. “Balin and I wish to honor her for her lifetime’s dedication and service to my family, and thought you might like to talk with her and thank her for making such a beautiful cover for your book and giving you such kind blessings for our future.” He explains. You nod and smile. “Yes, I would like to meet her.” You tell him.

“Would you mind if I left for a short time to go and bring her here?” he asks. “I don’t mind, Kurdûn (Man of my heart).” You tell Thorin. He grins brightly at your name for him and leans forward and gives you a gentle kiss. “I will be back shortly with Miranda. Be good and stay put.” He tells you. You nod.

Thorin quickly gets up and trots out the door, happy you are agreeing to things and are feeling better. He heads for Miranda’s shop and stops to buy a small gift for her, a ring and stops to carve, reversed runes into the Sapphire gem that state ‘Royal BookMaker’ on it. He arrives at her shop and she looks up to see who enters.

She drops to a curtsey as best she can and says, “How can I be of service, Melhekhul (My King)?” Thorin comes up to her and helps her stand. “I do not know if my family ever thanked you for all you have done for us over your lifetime. I did not know until recently that you were the one gracing our bookshelves with the beautiful book covers and I wish to formally thank you. Will you join me for a walk?” he inquires.

Miranda blushes deeply. “Melhekhul, no one from the Royal family ever thanked me for what I did. I did it out of love for the Line of Durin.” She says. “It would be an honor to walk with you, Melhekhul.” She says and allows him to escort her out of the shop. She pauses and locks the door, then loops her hand around Thorin’s arm once more.

As they walked slowly towards the Royal wing, Thorin talked with Miranda, asking her how she learned to do the intricate leatherwork and gilding on the books and where she learned bookmaking and binding. She told him that her family as far back as she knew were all bookmakers and that she is now the last one.

She tells him she learned from her Father and Grandfather, and that when she was given the task to create a book ‘fit for a King’ she panicked, thinking her work was not to that level of skill yet. She tells him about going to the heart of the mountain and leaving a sample of her best work at the foot of Mahal’s statue and a set of stationery she made with tiny gold leaf dust embedded into the paper fibers and gold leaf around the edges as a gift for Yavanna. “I did not know if they had any such use for my lowly gifts, but I left them none the less. I sat there praying and suddenly they both appear to me and thank me for my gifts and praise my work.

They ask me what it is I wish of them and I tell them of my task assigned to me and of my doubt in being able to complete it and have it be ‘fit for a King’. They assured me my work was, indeed, ‘fit for a King of Dwarves or Men or Elves’ and blessed my hands and my work, telling me from then on, I will be the best at it.”

She is so engrossed in telling Thorin the account that she doesn’t notice where they are right away. Her eyes get huge and she looks up at Thorin confused. “Why have you brought me to your Amad’s room?” she inquires. Thorin explains that this suite is now belonging to his One and her Aunt since her parents and his Amad are no longer living. “My One and a few others wish to meet the Dwarrowdam who makes such lovely book covers and books.” He tells Miranda.

“Oh!” she says. “Lead on, then.” She replies, looking up at him. Thorin chuckles and motions for the guards to open the doors. They do and he leads Miranda into the room. She pauses and gasps. “It has been such a long time since I was in here last. Your Amad loved my books and we would sit and talk over tea while I made her books and stationery.” She said, getting glassy-eyed. Thorin smiles kindly and gives her a minute. She nods and they continue on to your room. Thorin knocks on the door and Dwalin opens it, letting them in.

“Hello, there Miss Goldenleaf!” Dwalin says with a grin and a wink.” She swats him, laughing and says, Dwalin son of Fundin, stop your teasing!” he just laughs and gives her a hug. “I see you finally worked up the courage to give Thorin your gift!” he teases.

Miranda’s face gets pink and she nods. “I’m getting old and only Mahal knows when I will be called to the Halls of Mandos. I wanted to make sure Melhekhul (My King), got it before I croaked.” She says with a cackle. “It just so happened he walked into my shop the other day and said he was looking for a book for his One. So, I figured it was now or never.” She explains with a grin.

Thorin chuckles. “Speaking of my One, she is here…” he says and leads Miranda over to the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says picking up your hand, “this is our royal Bookbinder, Miranda Goldenleaf. Miranda, this is my One and our future Queen, Jade Gemcarver.” He says, introducing the two of you. You look over at her and smile. “My apologies for not being able to greet you in the proper fashion, Miss Goldenleaf, my injuries prevent me from doing much at the moment.” You explain. “Thank you for the beautiful book and cover, as well as the notes of blessing and well wishes.” You tell her. “Thorin, show her what Mahal did with it.” you tell him.

Thorin nods and grabs the book from off the coffee table. He brings it over and lays it on your lap. The moment it gets near you it begins to glow. Miranda’s eyes open wide. “Mahal enchanted it?!?” she asks looking up at Thorin in shock. Thorin grins and opens the cover to show her the letter from Mahal and Yavanna which is encased in a thin, yet durable crystal, which is mounted to the inside of the book. She reads the note and just stares at it with glassy eyes.

“They used the stationery I made for Yavanna to write that letter!” she whispers in disbelief. Balin comes over with a soft chuckle. “You alright, Sweetheart?” he asks her. “I never thought they would ever have use for my humble gifts.” She says quietly, completely stunned. Balin smiles. “Indeed, it is quite the honor, Miranda. Do you realize this is the first and only time in our history that Mahal and Yavanna have ever given us a written letter? And the first time we have ever been granted to see their seals? And they chose to use your precious gifts to convey them to us! You apparently made quite the impression on them with your ‘humble gifts’!” he tells her as he gently rubs her back.

“I need to sit down.” She says. Dwalin hurries and grabs a chair for her and sets it next to the bed. Balin helps her to sit. “Would you like some tea? Julia, Jade’s Aunt, made some before she left to help Ori in the library.” He offers. Miranda nods. “Yes, tea would be nice. Thank you, Master Balin.” She says.

“Please forgive my shock. I never expected such a response for my gifts.” She says humbly. Thorin and you smile. “They are deserving of the praise and admiration,” you tell her. “And now at least this creation is guaranteed to last to the ending of the world.” You remind Miranda, “A testament to what the best Bookmaker in all of the Dwarven kingdoms can do.” You praise her.

She nods, at a loss for words. Balin returns with the cup of tea and hands it to her. She sips it with shaky hands. “Miranda, when you were appointed ‘Royal Bookbinder’ were you given anything to designate this distinction? I see no beads in your hair designating it, nor any rings on your fingers with an official seal.” Thorin asks. “Had Mahal and Balin not informed me, I would never have known.” He says.

Miranda shakes her head. “No, Melhekhul (my King), it was an informal designation. The Gold Sickness had just started in your Grandfather and he was unwilling to make it a formal title, fearing others would try to steal me away from him if they knew about my talents. So, it was kept a secret. Only he and the Queen, your parents, Balin and Dwalin knew of it.” Miranda explained.

Thorin sighed. “I wish I had known sooner. I apologize for my family’s treatment of you, Miranda. They took advantage of you and did not give you proper recognition. I wish to remedy that with your permission. Please, accept this as a symbol of my recognition of your title, now made formally as our Royal BookMaker.

You are the last of the line who knows how to do this kind of work and detail. Balin tells me you never married and dedicated your entire life to serving my family making our lovely books. Please, do not let this knowledge and skills die off with you. Will you consider passing them on to a few select who wish to learn your trade and secrets that they may be preserved and not lost?” he inquires.

Miranda looks up at him with such reverence. Her eyes are glassy, and she looks at the ring in her hands. She swallows hard and nods. “I will be happy to teach my skills and secrets to whomever wishes to learn on one condition.” She says.

“What is your condition?” Thorin asks. “That the knowledge is used only for that of the royal houses. If it is made common knowledge of how to do this skill, it becomes less valuable and loses it’s importance.” She explains.

Arwen is standing at the foot end of the bed and sighs. Miranda looks up and sees her standing there looking sad. “Why the sigh, Lady Arwen?” Miranda asks.

Arwen looks up surprised. “You know who I am?” she asks. Miranda laughs quietly. “Yes, Lass, I know who the children are of Elrond Peredhel, Lord of Rivendell, Vice-regent of Eriador, Herald to Gil-galad.” She says, reciting Elrond’s name, Title and position. “I made many books for the Lord of Rivendell for his histories and lores of Middle Earth. Now why the sigh?” she asks.

“I had wished to learn your skill that I may make something lovely like you do for my Father and my Grandparents, and my Brothers.” She says quietly. “I will understand though, if you wish to keep it a Dwarvish secret. I will not share what I have heard with anyone if you do not wish me to.” She says respectfully and bows her head.

Miranda is quiet for a moment. “Because you have been respectful of our culture and because you are the Daughter of Elrond Peredhel, I will allow you to learn my trade and my secrets, but you must promise not to teach them to any others, save your children that you have in the future. They are the only ones you may teach, but they too must be held to the same promise. The knowledge must stay in your bloodline unless it is in risk of ending, as mine is.” She instructs.

“I promise.” Arwen says. “Our King and his Advisor and Chief of Security are witness to this agreement, as is the future Queen and our Healer.” Miranda says. Arwen nods. “Thank you, Miss Greenleaf.” She says with a grateful grin.

Miranda gives her a kind smile and nods. She looks at the ring on her finger and caresses it gently. “I never thought my contributions would ever be recognized by anyone and that my name, talent, deeds and memory would fade away and be lost with my death. I have no legacy to leave behind. I didn’t think anyone would want to learn such a trade any longer.” She says quietly.

“Miranda, what if you could leave a legacy behind? Would you do it?” Thorin asks. She looks up at him puzzled. He smiles and explains. “I was down in the heart of the mountain trying to get my thoughts and feelings put into words after picking up the book from you and some pencils for Jade. I had carried them down with me to the heart of the mountain and was sitting before the statues of Mahal and Yavanna. They visited me and saw your book. They told me a little bit about you and that you had dedicated your life to serving my family. They praised your work and Mahal enchanted your book so it would never be destroyed, preserving it for all time.

I realized you are getting up in years and thought it a sad thing that when you are no longer with us that all your skill and knowledge will be lost. I mentioned it to Mahal and how I wished I would’ve known about you sooner, that I would’ve asked you to take on my young scribe who works in the Library and teach him all you know to preserve your knowledge and skills. Mahal promised me he will give you enough time to pass on what you know before he calls you to his halls.

I was talking with Balin about this and he thinks there may be a few others who wish to learn your trade. We thought perhaps of creating a special Royal Bookmaker’s guild who will only serve the king and his line with their skill. I would like to offer you a small school named in your honor where they will be taught what you teach Ori, where your memory and knowledge, skills and secrets for the trade will be preserved and recorded for all time.” He offers.

“You will run the school as you see fit to do so. When you are called to Mandos’ halls, Ori will take over the teaching. If you will agree to this, you will be granted the title, ‘Mistress Royal BookMaker’, which is now the equivalent to a ‘Master Royal BookMaker’.” Thorin explains.

Miranda’s eyes glisten and soon small tears trickle down her cheeks. She is deeply touched by Thorin’s desire to make sure she is not forgotten. She nods and can barely believe what she is hearing. Thorin smiles. “I will talk with Ori and see if he knows of any other dwarrow who might be interested in learning from the first Mistress Royal BookMaker.” He tells her. “Once we know how many there are, you may interview them and choose which you want to teach. You may set whatever rules and guidelines you wish for establishing who is accepted into the school and when they can be deemed a ‘Master or Mistress’ Royal BookMaker.” Thorin tells her.

“Perhaps Ori can find a section in one of the side rooms of the Library where you can use for the school room.” He says. “I think it would be fitting to have it taught there.” He says. Miranda looks up at Thorin with tears trickling down her cheeks. “I do not know what to say, Melhekhul (my King), ‘thank you’ just seems so inadequate. I am not worthy of this Hurmel (honor of all honors)!” she says.

Thorin looks at the humbled old Dwarrowdam. He stands and comes over to her and squats down. He takes her hand in his and tilts her face to look up at his. “You are worthy of such high praise and honor, Mianda. Each Dwarrowdam, no mater their age, skill or status is a special and unique treasure to me. You are one such special treasure. You gave your entire life to serve my family without receiving any recognition or expecting anything in return. And in return for your generosity, love, and dedication; they kept you hidden from existence and foolishly risked losing the knowledge, skills and talents you were blessed with, never acknowledging you nor thanking you for the beauty you create. I do not wish for you to be the last of the BookMakers who have your skill and talents.

This is my way of fixing that wrong my ancestors did to you; and showing you my gratitude for your lifetime of service to the line of Durin. You will be given funds to run the school how you wish, you may use whatever supplies, gold, gems and jewels you wish to show your students how to create the beautiful covers and spines of the books you make. Show them how you make your stationery too. I am sure my One would love to use them to correspond with Arwen and also with her Cousin, Sister and Brother in Rohan as well as King Theoden, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn.” Thorin tells her. “Use the funds for the supplies you and the students will need, and you will be provided for by us until the end of your days.” He promises.

She looks at Thorin and cries. “Thank you, Melhekhul (my King)! Thank you! Tan menu selek lanun naman! (May your forges burn bright!)” she says, cupping his hands in hers and bowing her head to them.

Thorin smiles and looks up at you. You are grinning and reach over and pat Miranda’s shoulder lovingly.

“We will have a ceremony celebrating this then, as well as Jade’s new titles once she is healed enough to stand upright on her own for it. In the meantime, use your ring as you need to. If there are any questions about your title or such, have them brought before me or Balin and we will explain things to them. “Thorin tells her. “Now, would you like to go and see Ori at the library and perhaps the two of you can begin to work things out for the school where you can teach him and Arwen and whatever others you desire to learn directly from you?” Thorin asks.

She nods. “Balin will show you there and introduce you to Ori. Ori was a member of my Company when we reclaimed Erebor. He will take good care of you. When you are ready to head back home, he will walk with you back to your shop or your home, whichever you desire.” He tells Miranda. “Each piece your students create, be sure to stamp with the seal on your ring, so I know it is the work of your students. And have them design their own seals to use on their works as well. Have Ori record them, so we know who directly learned from you and who directly learned from Ori.” He tells her. “As you wish, Melhekhul (my King).” Miranda says as she stands. “Arwen, you do the same. Keep record of your signet and that of your children who learn this craft. Use them to mark your creations and have your children do the same, so if they end up in the hands of the Dwarves of Erebor, we will recognize who made it. Keep the Dwarves of Erebor informed when you teach it to your children and have them do the same as the years pass.” She nods and says, “I will do as you ask, Thorin.”

Thorin helps Miranda to her feet and gives her a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek, making her blush deep red. He chuckles and thanks her again for serving his family faithfully all these years.” She nods, gives him a curtsey and goes with Balin to find Ori. “Would you like to join us, Arwen and see our library?” Balin asks. She grins and nods, following them out of the room.

Once they step out of the room and Thorin hears the second set of doors close, he turns to you and comes to sit beside you. You take his hand in yours. “It is a very kind thing you are doing for her, Kurdûn (man of my heart).” You tell him. Thorin beams at your praise. “She is well deserving of the gifts you are giving to her.” You tell him. Thorin nods. Just as you are, Muhudel (blessing of all blessings). He says, caressing your moonbeam white locks. His thick fingers caress the beads of the new braids in your hair. They now ‘clink’ when you move your head.

“Oh, that’s going to be annoying hearing them ‘clink’ like that all the time!” you exclaim. Thorin laughs. “When we re-do them, we can alter the lengths that they rest at so they are not so noisy, my Love.” He tells you with a grin and a chuckle.

More Chapters to come.

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thewarriorandtheking · 5 years

Text

Fallout

For Prompt 13 of the Tale Teller’s 52-Week Writing Challenge:

“Look at me, dammit.”

This is the sequel to last week’s Temptation, for those of you who are following along. Time for Thorin to face the consequences of his actions in the garden...

52-Week Writing Challenge Masterlist

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Thorin Oakenshield stood at the edge of the grassy slope, beneath his feet a sheer wall of rock descended to the sea that spread out before him. There was a slight breeze blowing in, full of the smell of salt and distant shores, the waves crashing on the rocks below him. It was a beautiful fall day, crisp and clear, the sun warm on his face. Thorin thought to himself he had never been happier than he was at this moment.

Just a few moments ago he and Kaylea Wolf had been married, again. This time it was in front of her family, this time it was Thorin’s turn to learn an unfamiliar ceremony. The Dorsai ceremony was quite different from that of the Dwarves. On Dorsai each spoke their own vows. Thorin had found himself nearly overcome with emotion speaking of his love for Kaylea, as she stood before him. When it was her turn, he could hear the emotion in her voice, saw the tears well in her eyes as she set the ring on his finger. It was a moment he would remember the rest of his life.

Thorin heard a step and half-turned his head. Kaylea came up behind him and slid her arms around his waist, nibbling on his ear. He looked down putting his hands over hers, their wedding rings sparkled in the sun. He realized suddenly this was the moment he had seen in the Lady Galadriel’s mirror all those long years ago. Although he had been afraid to believe it at the time, the mirror had shown him the truth after all. He turned and took his wife in his arms, kissing her deeply. Even after all these years, there was almost nothing he enjoyed more than kissing his wife. The way she tasted, the feel of her body against his, the smell of her skin. Once he started he never wanted to stop.

After a long moment, Kaylea pulled back. “What are you doing out here, husband?”

“Thinking I am the happiest man on this planet, my wife,” Thorin replied, with a wide smile.

“We need to go in and mingle.”

Thorin pulled her closer. “Do we have to?” He whispered into her neck. “I can think of several other things I would rather do.”

Kaylea laughed, she ran her finger down his nose. “Rules.”

“Ah, yes. Rules,” Thorin rolled his eyes, then took her hand and they walked together back to the Graham keep. The reception was already in full swing, there was a smattering of applause as they walked in. Thorin went to fetch drinks as Kaylea moved among their guests. He leaned on the bar, watching her across the room. He did love that dress. She was wearing the same gown she had worn at her coronation in Erebor, it had been fabulously expensive and worth every penny. Made of pale blue silk and real gold and silver threads it sparkled like a gemstone and fit like a second skin. She was wearing the necklace with the large sapphires he had made for her, to match her ring. It nestled perfectly in the wide heart-shaped neckline; with her long earrings and jeweled circlet she looked every bit the Queen of Erebor. It was a very different look for her here in her homeland, normally when you saw Kaylea Wolf at a formal occasion on Dorsai she was wearing a dress uniform. Idly, Thorin wondered if that dress had a proper closure now, the last time she had been sewn into it and he had to cut the seam. That was a pleasant memory.

“Here you are, your majesty,” said the young Graham behind the bar, interrupting his reverie to hand him his drinks. Thorin turned around to find himself looking into a very familiar pair of green eyes.

He had seen Lady Sinclair at the ceremony, sitting near the front. Today she was wearing an even more spectacular necklace made with one of the rarest jewels in the Empire. The only other khyrstone Thorin had ever seen was worn by the Emperor’s daughter, and this one was a smaller but finer stone. She was wearing a tight-fitting rose-colored dress, though it was long-sleeved and floor length it somehow showed off her body just as effectively as the short one she had been wearing the previous day.

“Did he call you ‘your majesty’?” She raised her eyebrows, her lips curled into surprised smile. “There must be a story there.”

Thorin nodded, carefully not looking at her necklace. “In my own country I am a king.”

“Really?” She moved closer, Thorin stepped back but ran up against the bar. “If you are a king, then you can do whatever you want!”

Thorn shook his head. “I am afraid not. Kings are restrained by a great many rules, my lady.” He could smell her rich, exotic scent, impossible to ignore. “If you will excuse me.”

She leaned in, looking up at him coyly. “What do you think of this necklace? I thought of your interest in gems when I chose it.”

He glanced down quickly, then met her gaze. “It is exquisite, my lady.” And indeed it was. Khyrstones were prized for their inner fire, for Thorin they always brought to mind the fabled silmarils of the Elves. He wondered if even those famous gems contained the same light as this stone. He wanted to take a closer look, but he was more interested in getting away from her. “Now, if you will excuse me,” he said again.

“What’s your hurry, your majesty?” Siann asked, stepping in and laying her hand on his arm. She ran her fingers over the jewels sewn into the designs. “Mmmm…I like your coat.”

“My lady, I would like to deliver this drink before it gets warm,” Thorin said patiently. As hard as he tried, he could not keep himself from admiring her youthful beauty. She had so many qualities Dwarves prized in their women: petite, voluptuous figure, pale skin, spectacular jewelry.

Before Siann could reply, Kaylea was behind her, speaking into her ear. “Find yourself another toy, little girl,” her voice was full of venom.

Siann glanced at her, then back at Thorin with a smug smile, not moving her hand. “How’s your leg?”

Kaylea’s eyes narrowed, she leaned forward slightly. “Run along now, before you get hurt.”

Lady Sinclair turned to face her. “You would start a war with Clan Sinclair over a bit of fun?”

Kaylea stared at her coldly, it was a look that would make even a Kzin back down. “Try me.”

Siann shrugged, rolling her eyes as if unimpressed, but she had turned a shade paler. She moved off to join her kinsmen on the other side of the room. Kaylea watched her go, then turned her gaze on Thorin. “We need to talk.”

“Right now?” Thorin asked, but Kaylea was already headed across the room to the door in the corner that led to Ian Graham’s office. He took a deep breath and followed her, wondering if he had enough time to down both the drinks in his hands before he got there, and if it would even help. He certainly did not have a good excuse for his behavior the previous night, he still didn’t fully understand how it had even happened.

Kaylea shut the door behind him and Thorin put the drinks down on the desk before turning to face her. He had an odd flashback to the last time they had been in this room, explaining their love for one another to her lord. Ian’s office was all dark furniture and paneling, with a beautiful portrait of his late wife behind the desk. It had the air of a place not much used.

“So, tell me about your leg,” Kaylea asked in Khuzdul, which meant she was doubly serious. She stood in front of the wide desk, arms crossed over her chest. Thorin could see she was angry in the set of her jaw, the way she held her shoulders. All he could do now was tell his wife the truth and hope she forgave him. He took a deep breath and told her the story. The meeting in the garden, how he had felt somehow bewitched, the almost kiss. And how Vuko had intervened. They had not seen each other since the previous morning, but Kaylea had certainly noticed the stiffness in his leg, she missed nothing.

Kaylea was silent for a long time, looking at him expressionlessly. Thorin knew from past experience she was a master at controlling her emotions, it had taken him forever to puzzle out that she felt the same passion for him as he did for her. He wished she would show him some passion now. He almost wanted her to yell, rage and throw things. Instead, she stood in stony silence.

“This is the whole story?” She asked at last.

“Yes,” Thorin replied. He could not meet her eyes. “I am sorry, my love. I do not know what came over me.” He shook his head. “I have no excuse.”

She made no answer, instead turning her back and walking over to gaze out the tall windows. It was some time before she spoke. “I am disappointed, my king.”

Her anger he could face, her disappointment wounded him to his core. Thorin felt as if she had speared him in the chest and twisted the shaft. Quickly he crossed the room and knelt before her, bowing his head. “I have told you the whole truth,” he said. “Tell me what I must do to earn your forgiveness, my queen. I will swear any oath, do anything you wish.” He reached up to take her hand in his, but she seemed unmoved, still looking out the windows. At least look at me, dammit. Thorin thought to himself.

“You know what oath-taking means on Dorsai,” Kaylea said quietly. “When I disappointed you it cost me my braids. What will you give up for me?”

Thorin looked up at her, remembering that day. After he had questioned her loyalty she had cut off her braids that matched his to seal her oath that she would prove herself to him. It had been one of the worst days of his life, she was twisting that spear with a vengeance.

He bowed his head, speaking carefully. “If you ask for a finger, I will gladly give it. If your ask for my braids, you can have them.” He looked up just as she turned her head to look at him.

Kaylea regarded him silently for a long moment, then she dropped her eyes, smiling faintly. “I will have neither,” she said softly. “Siann Sinclair has…a reputation. I am well aware of the games she likes to play. But to be taken in by that girl, husband! I thought you were stronger.”

Thorin took a deep breath. That had really hurt, because she was right. He got to his feet, grasping her other hand. “And so I should have been. As I said, I have no excuse. Shall we call your weapons master?” Thorin was ready to face that round room with its center stone and waiting knife. If she needed him to swear, he would gladly give up a finger. He met her eyes, awaiting the verdict. He felt sudden stab of relief when he saw the rigid posture of her body just slightly relax. She reached up to put her hand on his beard.

“There will be no need for that, my king. I do not forgive you yet, but I understand. And though there was intent, all that passed between you was words – thanks to Vuko. Let us speak no more of it.”

“Your disappointment wounds me deeply, my love. What must I do for you to remove this spear from my chest? I would not have you leave it there.”

“Now you know my pain,” Kaylea replied. “When you told me you no longer trusted me, it was like a knife to my heart. It was years until you pulled it out.”

Thorin remembered when she handed him her braids and swore her oath. Afterwards she had gone on as if nothing had changed, he had not realized until now how hard it had been for her. Now he must bear her disapproval, and prove himself as strong as she was. “If that is your decision, I will not argue. I will do my best to earn your forgiveness,” he said. Feeling the discussion was at an end he picked up the untouched drinks. “I suppose we should go back to the party.”

Kaylea took a glass from him. “First, let us drink a toast,” she said with a soft smile. “To happily ever after.”

“Happily ever after,” Thorin clicked his glass to hers and drank. He could read her well enough to sense she had already come some distance toward forgiveness, she just wasn’t about to let him know yet. He reached around her waist and drew her close to kiss her. “Does this mean we will have a proper wedding night?”

Kaylea chuckled. “You wish. You will be sleeping alone for a week.”

******************************************

Now I am thinking of writing a third part to this...can Thorin charm his way into her bedroom on their wedding night, or will Kaylea stand by her decision?

Read the complete adventures of The Warrior and The KIng on AO3 & FanFiction, links on my homepage. Books I & II also on Wattpad.

@sdavid09 @fizzyxcustard @soradragon

#tale teller's 52 week writing challenge #thorin and oc #thorin oakenshield #fanfic #writing challenge #fanfiction #true love

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evenastar-blog · 5 years

Text

Arwen wakes upon hearing the voices of her husband and children whispering, but she doesn’t open her eyes or move yet. She’s very curious about what they’re whispering.

After what seems to be some encouragement from Aragorn, she hears the soft patter of her children’s barefeet. Opening her eyes, her gaze first encounters Eldarion who looks at her solemnly, while hiding something behind his back. One of her eyebrows arches at this.

“Mommy?”

She smiles at him and stretches an arm toward him. “What do you have this time? I hope you didn’t bring another live animal into my room.” About a month ago, Eldarion had caught a kangaroo mouse and in his excitement, had brought the small creature to show to his mother and father, whereupon it had leaped out from between his hands and dashed under some furniture. It took them a couple hours to find it, and Aragorn had to keep intercepting maids to keep them from setting mouse traps. It had been quite amusing, but it was not an experience Arwen wanted to encounter once more.

Eldarion comes into her reach and lets her curl her arm around him. He shakes his head vigorously than presents her with a bouquet of flowers.

“Oh, darling, these are both lovely.” Arwen is more than a bit surprised that he picked the flowers instead of letting them grow in the garden. Perhaps, she thinks, he’s picked up the habit from the people of Gondor, as they often cut flowers and put them in vases filled with water. However, she doesn’t get a chance to ask him, as at her compliment, order seems to break and her daughters come racing up to leap onto the bed with her.

“Look what we have, mommy!”

Arwen laughs and extends the arm not curled around Eldarion to them. She expects each girl to have some flower of their own—a daisy, perhaps—but each of them hold out a single earring, together making a pair. The earrings are feanorian stars made of mithril, each with a single white gem in the center. Her breath catches.

“These are beautiful as well, but what on Arda is the occasion!”

A warm chuckle comes at her question, and Arwen looks from her children to meet the eyes of her husband, who is standing in the doorway holding a tray.

“I have been told of a Gondorian tradition, which was originally a holiday of the Rohirrim: a festival celebrating the sun, fertility, and mothers. Thus, today is a day upon which mothers are to be celebrated.”

An eyebrow arches delicately. “Indeed?”

“Indeed,” Aragorn answers, coming to the bed with long strides and placing the tray upon the bedside table. There is a small, slender vase with niphredil and elanor (flowers from Cerin Amroth that Galadriel had given to Arwen to bring with her to Gondor. “To remember you have my blessing, always, and why you choose the hard path of Lúthien.”) and a cloth napkin with silverware upon it to the left of a glass of juice and a plate with a poached egg, a rasher of bacon, fruit, and toast that is a bit singed, along with a small jar of jam. Aragorn watches her examine it for a moment, “the children wanted to help,” he explains with a nod to the toast. “None of the cooks were very happy about us invading their kitchens though, they kept trying to politely show us to the door and take over preparing your breakfast!” Arwen smiles at that, and then sees on the right side of the plate there is larger mithril star with a white gem at its center. Aragorn picks it up and gives Eldarion a significant look. The child holds out a fine silver chain with white gems sparsely interspersed among the links. Aragorn slips the mythril star onto the chain and then clasps the necklace around his wife’s neck.

“Is this not a bit much?” Arwen asks softly. “Gondor is still recovering from its trials of these past years, should we really be spending money on mithril?”

“The past years of grief are all the more reason a joyous occasion should be celebrated with all due ceremony. However, now that the shadows of the world have lost the most significant source of their power, Gimli returned, with Legolas, to visit Moria and see the Mirrormere and after that the dwarves have been talking once more about restoring Moria to its former splendor. They have discovered some mithril and Gimli insisted we had receive a portion of it. So no resources have been wasted on these gifts.”

Arwen laughs in sudden humor. “So it is Gimli I should thank for these wonderful gifts!”

Her children protested that, exclaiming how they had been the ones to bring them to her and present her with them, and Aragorn joined them in the protests though with more humor and good-naturedness, saying, “I was the one who asked Gimli to have the dwarves make them into such a pair of earrings and such a necklace!”

“Ah, but the Feanorian star is not your own original design.” Arwen returns.

Aragorn throws his hands into the air. “Do I get none of the credit then! I spent the morning shooing off cooks to prepare a special meal for you!They were quite convinced a king couldn’t possibly know how to cook, even kings who have only recently become kings.”

“Only the portion that is rightfully yours,” Arwen informs him, her eyes shining with laughter. Defeated, Aragorn leans down and kisses her (much to Eldarion’s disgust, as he has reached that stage where kissing is most definitely gross). “Thank you, love.” Arwen murmurs against his lips. Then she turns to her children and sweeps them to her, “and thank you, and you, and you!” And so saying, she gives them each a kiss on the top of their heads. (And while Eldarion knows mouth kisses are gross, he loves his mother and is happy enough to receive a kiss from her.)

#drabble #mother's day #arwen undomiel #aragorn #eldarion #fourth age

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lady-of-starlight · 5 years

Text

Let the Star lead the Way - Chapter 27 - Wood of Greenleaves

Her hands are on his face, trying to erase the marks of tears from his cheeks despite having tears flowing from her own eyes just as well.

“Thank the Valar, I thought...” Thranduil can’t bring himself to finish the sentence, with the tightness in his throat almost bringing more tears to his eyes.

“I am here...” She lifts his chin, looking at him in the eye. “I am here.”

Never would the King of elves have imagined himself in a situation like this - he is the one supposed to be consoling her, not the other way around.

Thranduil is a wreck, completely out of control. And yet he couldn’t care less as he buries his face back into her the crook of her neck, feeling her warmth and finally believing she is very much there with him, alive.

She shifts slightly in his arms, and he remembers her wound. She might be awake, but not in full health. Thranduil lets go of her, holding only her hands. His are shaking, but she says nothing about it. Trying to keep his voice steady, he speaks:

“How do you feel?”

“In all honesty?” She flexes her side ever so slightly and winces in pain. “As if an orc used me for target practice, that’s how.”

Thranduil can’t help the sudden burst of laughter that escapes his lips, and she smirks. His smile wanes, though.

“Seeing you carried away, and not knowing what was happening... I thought the worst. There was so much blood...”

“Did I not tell you, that I may be tougher than I look?” She says, smiling wearily, probably reminded by one of their earliest moments alone.

“You certainly are, little one...” He moves his other hand that isn’t holding hers, and caresses the side of her face, with a gentle touch that he hopes will ease her pains.

“Rest now...” Thranduil whispers as her eyes slowly close, sleep whisking her away, yet her fingers never loosen their grip of his hand.

✽ ✽ ✽

Several weeks later

You run your hands down the front of your glimmering dress, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in your nervous state.

Thranduil would return today. He has been away for some time, arranging matters with lord Celeborn and lady Galadriel and ensuring that the forest would be completely cleared of any dark creatures that still might linger there. You had wanted to accompany him, but he had been unyelding in his demand for you to allow yourself to heal in peace.

Looking back, it had most likely been the right choice. Pressing your hand to your side, you recall how intense the pain had been at first. At some point, it had started fading. There wasn’t even a visible scar anymore, so bodily you appear to be in perfect health.

But on some nights, when the nightmares of the battle returned, you’d wake up with that same pain, barely able to gasp for air. Whenever Thranduil had been there, he had soothed you, helping you to gain your senses. Eventually it had helped you to learn to calm down on your own, whenever the nightmares had returned. It had been essential for you to master, especially now that he had been away for some time. Osanwë had been a good way of connecting and served its purpose, but it still wasn’t the same as if he was actually there with you.

A knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. Emlineth opens the door, not waiting for you to come and open it for her.

“My lady, he’s here.”

“Finally.” A jolt of happiness surges through you. Without another word, you gather your skirts and follow her to the upper levels as she speaks:

“His Majesty has summoned everyone to the ballroom for a feast. He says he has great news to deliver.”

“Well, I better hope so, otherwise all this time spent away has been for nothing”, you mutter dryly, and Emlineth laughs.

You pass a group of humans on your way in to the ball room, and end up being fiercely hugged by Mary, with Agnés and Tristan on her heels. Agnés still looks weary, but you can’t really blame her, considering they had lost all of their earthly belongings, including their home.

Mirkwood hadn’t been the only place that had faced an attack: Easterlings had attacked Dale and Erebor, forcing the inhabitants of both to retreat inside the Lonely Mountain before they had managed to drive the Easterlings back and away. Significant parts of Dale had been destroyed, and it was being rebuilt. In the meantime, most of the folk of Dale was settled in Erebor, but you had invited Agnés and her family along with a couple other families to stay in the Woodland Realm, until they would have a place to return to.

A small convoy of Lothlórien elves stands on one side of the room, and you notice lady Galadriel and Celeborn amongst them. Meeting Galadriel’s eyes, you bow your head slightly, and she repeats the gesture, with a knowing smile on her lips that leaves you wondering the cause of it.

You’re about to descend the stairs, when a hand lands on your shoulder, stopping you.

“Why such a haste, little one?”

You turn on your heels.

He is dressed in a silvery white ceremonial armor, with his familiar spiky crown resting on his head, but this time decorated with green leaves. His blue eyes are set on you, taking you in. Your heart is about to beat its way through your chest as you feel the blush creeping up your cheeks - It feels foolish that he can still cause such a reaction in you, yet you can’t help it.

“Thranduil...”

“Don’t you escape anywhere, I would like for you to stand right here with me.” Thranduil moves you slightly to the side of the stairs, letting people pass.

“Any feelings of longing for me during our time apart, my lady?” He asks, with a playful tone.

Glaring at him sideways, you reply with mockery in kind: “Oh? Is his Highness worried that the sweet lady may have forgotten about him, and the greatness of his persona?”

Thranduil chuckles, but his gaze softens. “I did miss you, and that spirit of yours.”

You feel flushed and think about just embracing him right then and there, when Feren stops in front him. “My lord, everyone has arrived. Should we begin?”

“Yes.” Thranduil squeezes your shoulder briefly, before he lets go of you and steps in the middle of the grand staircase, addressing the folk gathered downstairs. The crowd notices the presence of the King and falls silent, waiting eagerly for his words.

“I have summoned you here today, to witness the beginning of a new era.”

“I am most delighted to let you know, that the woods have been cleared of any remaining servants of darkness. Our lands belong to us once more.”

The elves rejoice when hearing about this, and he allows them to do so for a moment, before raising his voice again.

“Together with lord Celeborn and lady Galadriel”, he gestures towards them, “we have worked to ensure the safety of our people and allies. The woods shall be divided equally, with Lothlórien ruling the southern part, and the Beornings granted the rule over the Narrows. As for us,” he gestures at his elves, “we shall rule the northern forest, all the way to the mighty Mountains of Mirkwood.”

Thranduil gestures to an elf standing behind him, and he brings forth a tiny jar, from which a small beech sprout is reaching towards the ceiling with its delicate green leaves, some of them smudged with traces of black soot. He takes it in his hands, gently, and turns back to speak to his audience;

“With great pleasure, we shall rename our lands Eryn Lasgalen, by the greenleaves of our woods and new life that has returned under its branches, despite the devastation that tried to destroy it.”

Thranduil raises the tiny plant.

“As this new life rises, we shall rise as well. Thus, I announce this to be the New Year of the Elves. No more will our forest be under the great shadow!”

All the elves in the hall raise their drinks, hailing at his words. You see so many faces, many showing signs of sorrow, yet still smiling through tears.

Tharon stands in the crowd as well, and a familiar pang of sadness courses through you. You had learned of Edraith’s sacrifice some time after you had gained consciousness, and it had sent you crying for a long while, leaving you in pain as the sobs forced your still healing side to convulse, bringing forth even more tears.

It would take time for the wounds to heal, for all of you. But everything would pass, with time. It would have to.

After a while, Thranduil raises his hand, with the crowd falling silent.

“Now, there is still one important thing I wish to do...”

One of the elves walks up the stairs, carrying a decorated box. She bows in front of Thranduil before opening the lid, and you gasp.

On a velvet cushion lays a beautiful crown: Made of thin silver, it curls in tiny twig-like parts, with pale jewels set in the form of leaves. The sunlight that shines through the roof glimmers on their surface, casting rainbows of colors on Thranduil’s hands as he bends over to pick up the delicate crown.

“I am well aware that our traditions would require us to spend a year in betrothal before moving forth, but I do feel I have shown quite enough patience during my lifetime.”

Grinning at the crowd, he continues: “I am also well aware of what they say of our people in general, of how we compare to our other kin.” This erupts a series of knowing mutter and laughter from the crowd. “Well, if being in love makes me less wise and more dangerous, then so be it. We shall be just that, together, as a people. I intend to make my kingdom whole, and a complete kingdom needs a queen.”

Lifting the crown, he turns and speaks directly to you:

“My lady, would you accept my most sincere offer of marriage, and with that, the honor to rule this realm beside me, as queen?”

You breath hitches in your throat as your eyes swell with tears. Trying to keep your voice stable, while looking at him in the eye, you say:

“...Yes... I would.”

At that, he smiles, the loveliness of it lighting the whole space as he walks to you, placing the crown over your head. The cool silver touches your forehead, resting lightly against your skin. You can hear Mary squeak of excitement somewhere in the crowd, and can’t help but smile.

As Thranduil takes your hand, he turns towards the crowd that now cheers merrily. Whatever reaction he had expected, it hadn’t been this. Thranduil looks moved, swallowing hard. Leaning close, you whisper gently:

“Did you not trust that your people would accept me?”

“I must admit, I had my doubts... But none of it matters now.” He pulls you closer, unashamed as he bends down to kiss you.

✽ ✽ ✽

The elves and men alike have crowded the dance floor, the movement and music allowing them to forget their sorrows for a while and just enjoy, as they throw back their heads and swirl as one, holding hands with each other.

As you circle the room, you notice two tall, pale elves pacing calmly towards you. Lady Galadriel whispers something to Celeborn, who falls behind and allows her to meet you alone.

“Your Highness. How you have changed since the last time we spoke.” Lady Galadriel smiles, raising her hand to her heart for a greeting.

“My lady, you flatter me...” You manage, abashed by her calling you with such a high title.

“Hardly, my dear.” She takes your hand and leads you aside. “Watching you now, it’s as if a completely different person left my realm a year ago. You have grown so much. Not on the outside,” she adds, noticing you raising your eyebrow, “but inside. And it reflects in everything you do.”

Blushing, you lower your gaze. “It does not feel as if I was any more complete than before...”

“No one is ever complete with development, my dear. We continue to learn, and change in the process, in order to become the best versions of ourselves.” Lady Galadriel gives you a peculiar look. “Even I have my faults. But I try to learn from them, and be compassionate. And so do you. You will make a great queen, that I am sure of.”

“It is quite a responsibility to carry...” You soothe down the front of your gown again, nervous of what you’re about to admit. “I do not know if I’m capable of holding such power...”

“Oh, but I have noticed that those who do not seek the power are most fit for leadership.” She smiles again. “They take it on themselves, and do their best with it, without letting the power corrupt them. Just trust yourself, and your King. You are not alone.”

Touching you gently on the shoulder, she leaves, Celeborn stepping up to meet her as they continue towards the doors.

You walk to the main table, where Thranduil is seated. He helps you sit.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, his fingers playing with your hair.

“Slightly overwhelmed”, you admit, and he nods knowingly. “As I just told lady Galadriel as well. She seems to have more faith in me than I personally do”.

“It is a great responsibility. But, try to look at it this way: If I managed to keep this kingdom standing after abruptly inheriting the throne at my father’s death...”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll do splendidly,” you mock, and he laughs out loud.

Suddenly, a messenger appears, stopping in front of the King. Thranduil takes a small scroll from him before the messenger leaves. Unscrolling it, he reads. His eyes widen while reading it, and you glance over his hand to see what the note says:

In Minas Tirith, beginning of summer 3019, Third Age

To my father, the King

Ada, I am most grateful of hearing the news that the realm is safe. I grieve the lives that were lost in its defense, and hope to meet the passed souls once more.

I have also my own story to tell, but I fear the poor bird would not be able to carry such a novel to you. For now, let it be told that I am in perfect health, and enjoying my time. I may pay you a visit later. We are first set to travel to Helm’s Deep - by we, I mean myself and Gimli, son of Glóin. I trust you knew his father, as he and his companions spent some time in your dungeons.

May you be well

Legolas

You chuckle. Knowing that the matters between elves and dwarves haven’t been quite so smooth for ages, you imagine Thranduil might be quite in shock to learn that his son is travelling with one.

But you find yourself wrong, as he raises his gaze to you. Shrugging, he huffs with a hint of irritation and carelessly tosses the scroll on the table.

“Well, who am I to judge my son's companions?” He lifts his eyebrow, grinning at you as he grabs his goblet of wine, toasting it with yours. “Let us hope for their companionship to be far more peaceful than that of mine and his father.”

“Well, well, it would appear you have allowed yourself to become far more lenient... What happened to the headstrong, ill-tempered King I encountered on my first day in this kingdom?” You smirk at him, and get caught off guard when he leans forward, stealing a kiss from your lips.

“I believe he got cured of his blindness, and found something worth following, something that would guide him to happiness...” He breathes, after releasing you.

“Which reminds me...” He reaches inside his pocket, taking out something and placing it in your palm. You open your hand, and look at the pendant.

The star glitters in the light, clinking slightly against its chain as you turn towards him. “This...”

“It is yours now. You may do whatever you will with it.”

“But... Are you sure you wish to see me wearing this?”

“In all honesty? At first, I was certain that I should discard of it. But then...” He takes the chain from your hands. “I realized it serves as a reminder.”

“A reminder of what?” You’re puzzled, as he smiles at you and proceeds to attach the chain around your neck.

“That, no matter how dark the world appears at times, there is always something to hold on to. And how everything will be fine in the end.” He presses his forehead briefly against yours, as you bite back tears of emotion that threaten to overflow you.

“Now”, he continues, “I would like to have the first dance with my wife, if you grant me with the pleasure?” He raises, offering his hand to you with a daring smile on his lips.

“Let us give them something to remember”, you reply with a laugh, taking his hand with grace as he leads you in the midst of his people.

No.... You correct yourself. Our people.

Perhaps I have a place where I belong after all.

- End of chapter 27-

Notes:

Apologies for taking so long! There is still an epilogue on the way, so it won’t end just yet. Hope you’ll stick around for that, and thank you for reading my story this far <3

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#Thranduil #thranduil x reader #lee pace #LOTR #mirkwood #mirkwood elves #tolkien #hobbit #woodland realm #tolkien legendarium #tolkien fan fiction #fanfic #lotr fanfic

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