The Song Of Sunset
Part 18 - Betrothal in Greenwood
Posted: November 14, 2008
*****
Elrond watched the banners of Imladris swaying in the wind. As the herald, he rode beside the High-King, his right hand gripped tightly over the standard of the Noldor. He looked up at the noble silver standard fluttering lightly in the wind.
“Worried?” Gil-Galad’s voice broke him from his musings. Elrond turned back again for the last time. He saw long lines of faithful elven warriors prepared to follow their king to the very gates of Mordor.
“How many of us will return safely?” Elrond said feeling frightened.
He looked at Galdor kissing Melorian goodbye, whose curved tummy indicated growing life within. He looked about and saw Gildor Inglorien’s wandering company bid their families farewell. Just behind him he could see Erestor embracing his sister gently. Glorfindel was waiting for his friend to mount his stallion impatiently, his eyes avoiding Melorian defiantly. Elrond saw the young elf refugee from Eregion, Melpomaen, look at the gathered warriors in awe and longing. Elrond did not sympathize. He was grimly happy that he would not have to watch the young elf riding to war miserably.
“Lord Elrond”, Cirdan said ironically, “Mayhap you are not feeling yourself?”
Elrond shot him a venomous look before turning to face Gil-Galad once again.
The King sighed and said quietly, “Elrond, I wish I could assure you that all of us will return unharmed. But you know well it cannot be. Atleast you and I have a reason to make it back. You have to marry and I have to salvage my bond”, Gil-Galad turned to find Erestor and Glorfindel riding side-by-side, their frosty looks directed at him made him turn back quickly again, “He will not hear of anything regarding our marriage till this war is over.”
“If I were him”, Elrond said angrily, “I would not give you that concession. You are lucky he puts the alliance above his own happiness.”
“Isildur will be our downfall yet”, Gil-Galad said unhappily, “Elrond, how can anyone so sullied be your kin? It is sickening to hear our warriors scream at night from his tent. Why does he just not choose one and be satisfied?”
“We should slit his throat”, Elrond said vehemently.
“For once, I agree”, Cirdan said with equal anger in his cold voice, “At this rate he will ruin our best fighters far long before we reach the enemy’s keep.”
“Quiet now, for the King and his sons approach”, Gil-Galad whispered.
Elendil and his sons came to the front. Anarion remained silent and by his father’s side as the human king spoke to Gil-Galad. Cirdan drew back to Eresto’s side leaving Elrond with Isildur.
“You look handsome today, Herald”, Isildur said, his eyes roving on Elrond’s armour clad body.
“I beg your pardon”, Elrond said with a strained smile, “I am sure that you meant it well, but it seems awkward to hear such a comment from my brother’s descendant.”
“Your brother was wiser and braver than you were, Lord Elrond, for he chose right”, Isildur remarked coldly.
“I have never regretted my choice, so I cannot say that I did not choose right”, Elrond said quietly.
His heart lifted as they changed course to Greenwood. The festivity of the wood elves who came to greet them was alarmingly contagious. Though most of the human warriors progressed slowly onwards to the east, the elven warriors and the dwarvish contingents from Moria wend their way slowly deeper within the rejoicing forests.
The elven host was greeted by Thalion and Celeborn. The nobles were led into Oropher’s fortress, which was tastefully decorated and lit. Erestor was discreetly led away by one of Anoriel’s maids. Elrond made his way to Thranduil’s chambers as he was well acquainted with these halls after his stay here.
He knocked once before entering, the eagerness to see the prince overwhelming him. Thranduil had his back to him as he watched raptly through the window. Elrond approached him quietly and slipped his arms around the Prince’s waist tightly before proceeding to bestow a lick upon the elegantly pointed ear tip. Thranduil struggled futilely to escape his grip. Elrond closed his eyes lazily and drew Thranduil’s lips for a deep kiss. The Prince tasted slightly of herbal tea and cinnamon unlike the usual taste of pine and Dorwinion.
Elrond whispered as he leant over the slender shoulder, “What is my fair prince watching?”
He immediately let go of his grip and turned the figure around to find himself staring at Oropher. Elrond blushed furiously and backed away.
The Sindar king looked mortified judging by his stunned features , however he said composedly, “Welcome back to Greenwood, Elrond.”
“I am sorry, Lord Oropher”, Elrond cringed as he looked once more at Thranduil walking with Anoriel in the gardens, “I thought you were him.”
Oropher smiled ironically, “I am pleased that you mistook me for my handsome son, though I guess we are both glad that you stopped where you did.”
Elrond looked away, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Oropher, however came nearer and lifted up Elrond’s chin saying, “I am not angry, though I must admit I was stunned. Come, Elrond, let me show you our betrothal arrangements.”
Erestor waited patiently for Anoriel to return. He idly walked about the large room, looking at the various half-done portraits. Art had never been his strength, still he could see that Anoriel was a fine painter.
“Lord Erestor?” Celebrian addressed him as she walked in suddenly, “What are you doing here?”
“Lady Celebrian”, Erestor bowed, “I was merely waiting for Anoriel for she had wanted to see me.”
“She will return now, will you not call me by my name?” Celebrian asked smiling, “After all you call my father by name, I have heard.”
Erestor smiled and said quietly, “If you would agree to return the favour, then Celebrian it shall be.”
“Has Elrond come?” Celebrian asked enthusiastically, “I have been looking forward to see him again.”
“I thought you did not get along well”, Erestor said looking into her eyes searchingly.
“Oh! We get along famously after he assured me that he is also in the same quandary”, Celebrian laughed, “If we have to consent to this binding atleast we can learn to suffer each other’s company.”
Erestor laughed saying, “I think that ploy will not work in Lothlorien or Lindon where you will be watched by everyone.”
“Yes, Erestor, I was about to ask you, would you mind if I shifted to Imladris after the marriage? Elrond told me that he loves the place above Lindon. I too love Imladris”, Celebrian said honestly.
“I would be glad of the company and moreover I can make more escapes to Lindon to be with Gil if Elrond assumes charge in the valley”, Erestor kissed her hand lightly, “Though you might need to talk of this with your parents and the King.”
“Erestor!” Anoriel rushed in and hugged him impulsively, “It is wonderful to see you.”
“If my presence moves you to such delight then I shudder to think of what you are like in the prince’s presence”, Erestor said teasingly as a blush bloomed on her cheeks, “Why did you summon me?”
“Oh! Erestor,” Anoriel said averting her eyes, “I wished to do a robe for Oropher, you know, for the betrothal. But I do not have his measurements. Would you please, please….?”
“Measure Oropher?” Erestor raised an eyebrow, “You are determined to get me exiled, Anoriel, let me try. No promises, though. Why didn’t you just ask your lovesick fiancée?”
Celebrian said laughing, “They are too busy with other matters, Erestor, to think of such things as measurements.”
Anoriel blushed but did not reply. She went to her wardrobe and took out a set of neatly folded robes and handed them to Erestor muttering, “I made these for you, you know, if you would wear it at the ceremony.”
“I hate to tell you we are leaving for war after the ceremony”, Erestor said gently, “So after the ceremony, you will have to save it for me till I can come and reclaim it. Now”, he continued blithely watching the distraught expressions on the ladies’ faces at the reminder of war, “When do you want the king’s measurements?”
“Today evening, Erestor, at the latest”, Anoriel begged him.
Elrond watched sleepily as Erestor barged into his chambers, saying aloud, “You are lucky not to have a sister!”
“Why so?” Elrond said idly flipping open the book on medicine Thalion had lent him, “I thought they give sentimental farewells.”
“That they do”, Erestor grumbled as he flopped down onto the bed on his back next to Elrond, “But they ask for the moon so prettily that you cannot refuse them.”
Elrond put his book aside and took the liberty of resting his head on Erestor’s slender chest, “What happened?”
“Anoriel wants Oropher’s measurements before this eve, Do you know of a way to steal one of his robes?” Erestor said hopefully, his fingers threading through Elrond’s hair.
“Is it not easier for her to get it from Thranduil?” Elrond had blushed at the very mention of Oropher’s name.
“She is too concentrated on the Prince’s measurements when they are together”, Erestor huffed, “Elrond, mellon-nin, whatever shall I do?”
Elrond felt mischief rise in him as he said impishly raising his head to look at Erestor, “I can give you Oropher’s sizes if you co-operate!”
Erestor raised an eyebrow, but nodded anyway, saying, “As long as I get the measurements before dusk!”
“Get to your feet and go stand before the mirror”, Elrond ordered him. Erestor’s eyebrows shot higher, but he complied nevertheless.
Erestor began saying dubiously, “I did not want my measurements, Elrond!” as Elrond’s wrists snaked around his waist encircling him with a measuring tape. Elrond was, however, too absorbed by the position of his hands on Erestor’s waist. Finally, he said, “This is the waist size!”
“Whatever gives you such an idea?” Erestor said disbelievingly as Elrond began measuring his shoulder span, “Has Thranduil got you drunk already?” he sniffed Elrond’s breath suspiciously.
“No, today morning, I went to his room to greet him. Unfortunately I greeted Oropher”, Elrond confessed as he jotted down the measurements, “So each of my finger’s position on his body is etched into my mind. Getting his measurements will not be a problem.”
“You did not touch him?” Erestor turned sharply to look at Elrond in awe.
“Kissed him actually”, Elrond admitted, “My heart stopped for a moment when I saw who it was.”
Erestor laughed weakly before turning back to the mirror whispering, “Was he stunned?”
“Why ask?” Elrond covered his face in Erestor’s dark hair mortified. For a few moments, he relished the quiet presence of his heart’s desire. Erestor’s hands clasped Elrond’s in a simple sign of comradeship.
“Can you touch the tip of your nose with your tongue?” Erestor asked after a while.
“Why would I try that?” Elrond raised an eyebrow at Erestor’s reflection in the mirror incredulously.
“Thranduil said if an elf can do that, then he or she will be a great kisser”, Erestor replied promptly.
Elrond shoved Erestor playfully before muttering, “I think I don’t need to prove my kissing skills for you, ‘Restor. You should be concerned only by Gil’s talent.”
But after Erestor had left, Elrond surreptiously went before his mirror and tried to reach the tip of his nose with his tongue futilely. He would have to practise this.
Oropher smiled at his exhausted cousin, who had taken on the brunt of the arrangements for the wedding.
“You can laugh, cousin”, Celeborn said disdainfully, “You should have thought of writing an ‘Entry by Invitation Only’ at the borders. Eru knows what we will do once the place is marauded by the dwarves, lakemen, and giant bears!”
“Beorn has come?” Oropher asked curiously, “My son has his friendship, I have heard.”
“Your son slept with him?” Celeborn groaned, “Not that I would have difficulty in believing it. He can persuade a dwarf into his bed if he sets his mind on it.”
“I hope he does not take that idea into his wild head”, Oropher shuddered, “Cousin, I was going to ask you to stand in my stead at the ceremony. I will stand in his mother’s stead.”
“As you wish, I would be honoured”, Celeborn said solemnly.
Thranduil smiled at Galadriel, who was walking towards him, a hesitant expression on her face.
“Shall we move from these crowds?” she asked him in a low voice.
Thranduil said innocently, “Shall it take a cave again to arouse your maternal instincts?”
“Pen-neth!” Galadriel said indignantly, “You overstep your limits as usual.”
“Why do you persist in calling me little when I am already in the early stages of planning for a family?” Thranduil asked curiously, “You never call cousin Celebrian thus though she is barely a century older than me!”
“I can call her my daughter”, Galadriel smiled, “if I call you my son Oropher will not be very forgiving”, she paused, “Moreover you are very young compared to me. At your age, my only activity in life was to go hunting and camping with my cousins.”
Thranduil said besotted, “I think of fields of Aman whenever I see her hair, flaxen, peaceful!”
Galadriel laughed as she took in his obvious impatience to get back to Anoriel. She then began falteringly, none of the usual confidence of the proud daughter of Finarfin in her voice, “Would you accept a gift from me? In Aman, it was considered ill-luck to not receive your first wedding gift from your mother.”
“We are not in Aman”, Thranduil said quietly, but seeing her crest-fallen expression an instant before she hid it by a mask of cold composure, he said gently, “I would but receive gladly any gift that you would deign to give me.”
Galadriel stopped walking and drew out a small chest from within her cloak. Thranduil took it from her hands and opened it. In the moonlight, shone a green stone the colour of his eyes. He had never seen such a jewel even amongst the Noldor nobles. It was very obvious that the stone did not hail from Middle-Earth.
He looked up at Galadriel, who was standing silently, and said quietly, “I do not think I deserve this as a gift, it seems to have passed through the ages lending you strength in sorrows.”
“It has”, Galadriel sighed, “It was wrought by my cousin Celegorm during our childhood in Tirion. He gave it to his love, Aredhel, who loved the wildness of nature the most amongst us. However when he gave her mightier gifts, this passed to me. I have held it close for all these ages, the stone reminding me of happier times of my life. This stone however pales in the light from your eyes and I feel that I no longer need it. Keep it with you and let it keep you safe, for it was hallowed by Elbereth herself in those blissful times. When there are hard times ahead, as there will be, let it offer you a measure of solace.”
“You give me a rich gift which I cannot repay”, Thranduil said sincerely, “But would you stand in my mother’s stead for the ceremony?”
“I..”, Galadriel turned away, “I am loath to risk bring on the curse of my house onto yours, Thranduil. You have my love in your mother’s stead, as insufficient as it is.”
Thranduil grasped her right hand warmly saying, “The Valar will not curse me or you for such a simple thing.”
“It is not a simple thing that you ask of me, Thranduil, and we both know that well”, Galadriel sighed.
“I am stubborn”, Thranduil assured her, “Prepared to stand and persuade you till the remaking of the worlds.”
Galadriel smiled weakly, “That you might do, I fear. Let me speak to your Adar regarding this.”
“I will go to the forge and have your gift set in my sword”, Thranduil smiled and left quickly.
Galadriel knocked on Oropher’s study door. To her pleasant surprise, her husband opened it. She greeted him with an embrace and walked in. Oropher was behind his huge oaken desk, surveying the seating plans. He looked up and smiled at her, motioning her to take a seat. Celeborn drew a chair for her before seating himself in a chair by her side.
“What brings you to the control room for the betrothal preparations?” Oropher asked her as he poured out a fine vintage for her. There were half-empty glasses before him and Celeborn.
“A request, Lord Oropher”, she had thought that she had forgotten how to stammer, but now she realized that she could still stutter like a young ellon asking an ellith for a first dance.
Oropher raised his head from the plans and looked at her curiously. Celeborn asked bluntly, “You are in a worse state than the first time you crept into my bedroom. What is it?”
“I wish I was allowed to stand in stead of Thranduil’s mother”, she stammered very fast, unwilling to meet Celeborn’s and Oropher’s eyes. They were looking at her as if they suspected she had lost her sanity finally.
“Er..Altariel”, Celeborn called her that only when she was suspected to be in a very fragile state, “We did not understand.”
“I mean it, I would be extremely happy to do it, he is as a son unto me, hervenn-nin”, she finished uncertainly, “If both of you would not mind it, that is.”
Celeborn looked at his cousin helplessly as if admitting that Oropher’s argument ( that everyone in the house of Finwe loses their sanity at a point in their lives with certainty) was proved true.
Oropher said carefully, “I am honoured, of course. But…”
“ ADA!” there was a shout from outside followed by Thranduil leaping in through the window.
“My wild son”, Oropher acknowledged defeated, “I must ask you to stop doing this in Amdir’s talan, he will start a war.”
Thranduil rushed forward and kissed his father’s forehead before announcing, “I want her in my mother’s stead. She was kind enough to agree.”
Celeborn looked at his wife saying, “I do not want to know what happened in that cave, Galadriel. It seems to have made you both slightly mad.”
“My son was already on the road to madness”, Oropher ran his fingers over Thranduil’s head lightly, “What have we condemned poor Anoriel to?”
Elrond opened his chest absently. He planned to stow away all that he did not need in Thranduil’s rooms and claim them after the war, if he returned. He had no space for his lore books and medical chests. As he rummaged through the debris of the centuries, he snatched a piece of parchment in an oddly familiar writing, his twin’s. Elrond closed his eyes, his twin had died a mortal death centuries ago. Still, he wished to know what had been written, he opened the parchment, it was dated the winter before their coming of age.
Dear Russandol,
I find that my heart beats for you, I love you and I wish to claim you,
Hoping that you would cooperate,
Elros Earendillion.
Elrond unfolded the parchment with increasing disbelief. Beneath his twin’s bold, brash lines was Maedhros’s queer left-handed script.
Pitya,
I have no idea what made you write this letter and give it through my guards. It has been a long time since I have been thus boldly propositioned. It is pleasing though I find myself doubting your eyesight and sanity. Rest assured that I will send you with the wandering company the next time you call me ‘Russandol’.
Apologizing for my non-cooperation,
Nelyafinwe.
Elrond folded the letter and placed it within one of his books, drying a tear from his eyes. His twin had a crush on Maedhros, Elrond had known it. But he had never in his wildest dreams thought that Elros would pursue their foster father’s elder brother so brashly.
Elrond knew that he would not get rest this night, his dreams haunted by the past and its regrets. He made his way to the large hall, looking for company. Thranduil was standing alone near the fire, swirling the wine in his goblet absently.
“Ernil-nin”, Elrond approached him softly.
“Elrond, I could not sleep”, Thranduil gave a wry smile, “I suppose I scared Amroth, who has been given the next chamber, out of his wits with my screams.”
“Come, I too cannot find rest”, Elrond leant his head against Thranduil’s shoulder, “Let us talk the night away. I feel a strong grip of melancholy this night in a way I have rarely felt before.”
Thranduil looked at him critically before saying firmly, “You are in need of rest, come, let us go to my room and hold each other in sleep. We will be less disturbed by the ghosts of the past.”
*****
Celeborn helped Thranduil dress in the fine robes that Lord Ingwe had sent for the occasion across the sea along with several other gifts. Thranduil was fidgeting about like an elfling as Celeborn braided his hair in the style of Elwe’s house.
“It will be allright, pen-neth”, Celeborn said in an attempt to stop the endless fidgeting, “You do not have to worry.”
“I want to get this over”, Thranduil said pouting, “I am tired of waiting, come, Celeborn, let us go down to the gardens.”
“You are not supposed to enter until you have been announced”, Celeborn chided him as he wove green gems into Thranduil’s hair, “Now stay still while I do your boots.”
Elrond was seated in one of the foremost rows, beside him sat a noble from Lothlorien on the left and Thalion on the right.
“I am amazed that the Ernil has not escaped Celeborn’s clutches yet”, Thalion remarked as he sipped a potent wine he had chosen from the tray-bearers, “It will be good to see him docile and orderly for a change.”
Elrond twirled his goblet as he said uncertainly, “Knowing him I cannot think that you would see him thus.”
Gil-Galad and Erestor arrived, their faces looking grim despite the festivity of the occasion, yet they sat together. Elrond suppressed a sympathetic groan as Galadriel sat next to Erestor. This was going to be one of Erestor’s foul-tempered days. Glorfindel was already ‘testing’ the various vintage ales that Oropher had bought from Laketown. The Balrog Slayer was assisted in this task by a large band of enthusiastic young dwarves.
“Lord Oropher, King of Greenwood”, the herald hailed as Oropher entered the gardens, Celebrian escorting him proudly. He was clad in light mauve silk that made the years look lighter on him. There was a proud happiness in those green eyes as he bowed to Gil-Galad and Durin and took his seat in the front row.
“Princess Anoriel, led by her father, King Amdir of Lothlorien”, the herald continued. Elrond turned to watch Anoriel walk slowly, her father’s hand leading her proudly. She was clad in a sheer white silk gown, that fell gracefully off her smooth figure. Her tresses were braided intricately in the design of her house, and when she smiled, Elrond was sure that she was the image of Melian herself.
Oropher stood as the lady walked up the raised platform where the ceremony was to be performed. Amdir and his wife were on either side of their daughter.
Thalion said softly, “She is beautiful, within and without.”
Elrond nodded fervently. She was beautiful; her joy lighting her radiant outer beauty.
“Prince Thranduil”, the herald announced, “led by Lord Celeborn, kin to the royal family of Green Wood.”
The onlookers gasped collectively as the Prince arrived, led by Celeborn. The lord of Lothlorien was dressed in magnificent blue robes that set off his silver tresses well. But his beauty was totally eclipsed by Thranduil. He was dressed in deep, green robes within which mithril threads were spun into craftily. His hair was braided away from his face intricately and decorated with green gems, jades the colour of his eyes. His father had truly called him the greatest treasure he had been given. His hair waved gently in the breeze appearing like an aura about his handsome features. He ascended the platform and Oropher joined him. Thranduil bent slightly to whisper something in his father’s ears.
Oropher nodded slightly and extended his hand to Galadriel, the onlookers watched amazed as Galadriel kissed his hand and ascended the stage, standing on Thranduil’s side, an expression of uncertainty on her features.
Gil-Galad turned to ask Elrond, “What is that about?”
Elrond shrugged, Thranduil had told him yesterday night, but he knew that Gil-Galad would not appreciate such a confidence when it was obvious that Galadriel had not informed him personally.
“In the name of the Valar, will you accept Thranduil Oropherion, son of Oropher of Doriath, and Inglerian of Valinor, as your fiance?” Celeborn asked Anoriel.
Anoriel said with a brilliant smile, “Yes, I do, My Lord Celeborn.”
“Does Amdir of Lorien, father of the lady, bless this ceremony?” Celeborn continued.
Amdir said proudly, “Yes, with my full heart.”
“Does Eleriel, daughter of Elured, mother of the lady, bless this ceremony?” Celeborn continued his office.
A nod was the only answer. Elrond wondered if she could speak.
Thalion muttered, “I have never heard the sound of her voice.”
Celeborn had turned to Thranduil. He began, “In the name of the Valar, will you accept Anoriel, daughter of Amdir and Eleriel of Lothlorien as your fiancée?”
“Yes, My Lord Celeborn”, Thranduil said smiling from ear to ear, his eyes riveted on his fiancée.
“Does Oropher of Greenwood, father of the prince, bless this ceremony?” Celeborn continued.
Oropher said quietly, “With all my heart, I pray that the Valar bless them both.”
“Does Artanis, daughter of Finarfin, standing in stead of Inglorien, daughter of Ingrod, bless this ceremony?” Celeborn asked, his lips quivering in a smile as he asked his wife of millennia, his one true love.
“I do, and pray that their union is blessed”, Galadriel said, shivering slightly that only her husband could sense it through their renewed bond.
“Then, before this august audience, I pronounce Thranduil Oropherion and the Princess Anoriel betrothed by the laws of the Eldar with the blessings of the Valar”, Celeborn said authoratively, “You may now exchange your rings.”
After Thranduil and Anoriel had lingered enough to place the rings on each other’s fingers, Celeborn said good-humouredly, “You may, now, in keeping with tradition, ask one thing of any of us on the platform.”
Thranduil turned to his father and knelt before him saying with wicked delight, “You must promise me to try to find love, Ada-nin.”
Oropher raised him to his feet and gently kissed his forehead murmuring, “I have already lost my hard kept celibacy, ion-nin.”
Those in the foremost rows gasped, for Oropher’s celibacy had been long and well-kept. Erestor was the only one who turned to watch a fierce blush staining Elrond’s handsome visage as he bit his lower lip in mortification.
Thranduil hugged his father happily whispering in his ears, “I thank Elbereth then, for my prayers have been answered.”
“Lady Anoriel, you may now demand a wish from those on the platform”, Celeborn said.
Elrond wished that she would ask her mother to speak a single word, but she lifted her chin defiantly and said clearly, “I demand a kiss of passion from my fiancé.”
There was a collective gasp at her boldness. Durin was complimenting what he considered ‘dwarven frankness’. Gil-Galad was advising Celebrian never to pull such a stunt on Elrond at their wedding ceremony. Erestor exchanged a look with Elrond. Amdir and the rest of the lady’s relatives cringed at her fiery nature. Her mother remained impassive.
Thalion remarked, “She will match the ernil.”
“That she will”, Elrond said as he laughed at Thranduil’s baffled expression.
“Well, my prince, will you not honour her wish?” Celeborn asked smirking.
Thranduil shot him a glare before moving very self-consciously to stand before Anoriel and whispering, “Why? I would have showered you with kisses later!”
“One kiss now, to prove that you will never hide our love from other’s eyes”, Anoriel whispered adamantly.
Thranduil said quietly, as he cupped her face with his hands, “I would never hide our love, come what may.”
The dwarves and the elves cheered lustily as his lips descended on hers. Her hands snaked around his waist, holding him closer. His hands slowly moved to her shoulders as he deepened the kiss. Celeborn’s rather obvious throat clearing made them break apart, staring wildly at each other, their breath coming in gasps.
Durin whistled, “Well, that was a performance, lad!”
Thranduil blushed, as he led his fiancée down the platform to the dance clearing. There they wrapped their hands about each other and started swaying to the minstrel’s songs, their eyes only for each other.
Erestor was whispering something to Gil-Galad, who was already on his sixth pint of ale and slightly off colour, but the King shook his head and harshly commanded something. Erestor nodded, and bowing politely to Durin and the rest of the nobles, he stood. His eyes roved about on the dance floor, Celeborn was dancing with his daughter, Galadriel with Durin. Oropher was standing next to Thalion and holding conference with a group of advisors.
Erestor made his way to Elrond, who was trying to keep his eyes on Gil-Galad as he staggered off to join Glorfindel.
“Dance?” Erestor asked him hopefully, “I do not know why they would drink when they can dance.”
Elrond complied eagerly, despite Cirdan’s cold look directed his way.
They danced till the night had fallen, changing partners only thrice when Thranduil had claimed Erestor’s hand and Elrond had sat out the song. Anoriel was dancing with Oropher, laughing happily at something he remarked, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on her features. Though Oropher’s dancing was perfect, his son’s sensual, yet elegant dance with Erestor had many applauders, their youthful exuberance and natural grace lending their moves beauty.
The next dance, Oropher came over to where Elrond sat and asked good-humouredly, “Will you dance with me, Lord Elrond?”
Elrond cringed and apologized again, but he accepted the King’s hand and they danced slowly, as Oropher kept a steady flow of conversation until Elrond’s shame had disappeared. Finally as he relaxed, Oropher drew him slightly closer and whispered, “Should anything happen to me in this battle, Erestor and you must see my son through, until he returns to her.”
Elrond said firmly, “Nothing will happen, My Lord. You will see you grandchildren grow in a loving family.”
Oropher shook his head as he whispered, “I do not know, Elrond. The fates have ever been fickle. I feel that there will not be more than one offspring in this union and that he shall be as lonely as my son ever has been. I feel that I shall see her before I see him and that I may never see my grandson.”
Elrond said quietly, “If I draw breath, I will not see your son in peril, nor will Erestor, for they have a deeper bond. If this is foresight, then I will raise his son as mine should need arise.”
Oropher said relieved, “You have my gratitude, Elrond. May the Valar be kind on you.”
“The Valar are never kind on us Noldor”, Elrond shrugged as the song ended, “Especially in the matters of the heart”, he watched Erestor dancing with Celebrian.
Elrond danced with Celebrian the next song while Erestor danced with Galadriel, though from the chief counsellor’s cold diplomatic face, it did not seem that it was particularly enjoyable. The rest of the dances, they were together, wearing themselves down to exhaustion until the first rays of dawn had arrived. Thranduil and Anoriel had retired sometime after the first few dances, with their families. So had Galadriel, though Durin was reluctant to let her go. Gil-Galad was carried by Glorfindel and Gildor to his chambers after he lost a drinking competition to Haldir of Lothlorien.
Anoriel waited until her family had retired before creeping out of her window. She advanced slowly till she reached the room next to her brother’s. Amroth was still standing with Thranduil as they talked in a desultory fashion.
“Have you not sought your dreams yet?” Thranduil asked her as she joined them.
Amroth gave a knowing smile and bid them a fair night before retiring into his chambers.
Thranduil asked his fiancée fearfully, “I hope you did not come to demand yet another kiss of passion? I am already struggling with the desire the last one awoke in me.”
Anoriel smiled, which in Thranduil’s mind made her the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life, she asked quietly, “Would you show me the woods tonight, Ernil-nin? I cannot find rest this night and would be glad to walk with you.”
“Amdir will have me quartered and drawn”, Thranduil said wryly, “And knowing you, I fear to come along.”
Anoriel said softly, “I ask only for a walk underneath the stars, Thranduil.”
He shrugged and took her hand in his as he led the way into the woods away from the revelry.
“Did you enjoy yourself in the dance with my father?” Thranduil asked suddenly, after they had been walking in silence for a few moments, “He rarely dances except with cousin Celebrian.”
“He is elegant”, Anoriel sighed, “Though I am afraid that both your father and I were watching your spirited performance with Erestor. The two of you make an excellent dance pair. I had never expected him to be so unrestrained on the floor.”
“It is only on the dance floor and the battlefield that he gets a chance to drop his mask of diplomacy”, Thranduil sighed, “And that is when he resembles his ancestors the most, unrestrained. Elrond and he make a good pair on the battlefield and on the councils, Erestor’s strategies complimenting Elrond’s bravery and intelligence.”
“It is not only on the battlefield and the councils that they would make a good pair, Thranduil, they look good together”, Anoriel remarked.
Thranduil stopped walking as they reached a clearing. He waved his hand skywards saying softly, “You wanted to see the stars.”
“I have always wanted to touch the stars and the moon, to taste of their luminance. You promised to shower me with kisses”, Anoriel murmured as she drew nearer and hugged him from behind.
He relaxed involuntarily before tensing against her saying, “Do not tempt me, Anor-nin. I am already suffocating with desire.”
“Thranduil Oropherion takes what he wants, so I have heard”, Anoriel breathed as she drew her fingers against the smooth silk of his robes, causing him to tense even more.
“Anor-nin”, Thranduil pulled away, his voice shaking. Anoriel came around to face him, drinking in the sight of his lust-dilated eyes and heaving chest.
“We need to go back”, he whispered as he struggled to control his desire, “Now.”
Anoriel came nearer, her expression almost innocent as she lifted herself on her toes balancing herself by placing her hands on his shoulders as she pressed her lips on his. He shuddered as he opened his mouth, drawing her tongue within. Moaning softly, she pressed the length of her slim body against his, slipping her fingers into his hair. He groaned as he fell to his knees, drawing her with him. Slowly, he leant back onto the grass, pulling her atop him. She shivered as the warmth of his wet arousal seeped through his robes onto hers. As they parted from their kiss, she saw a single tear trail down his cheek.
“I wanted to wait, to proudly claim you on our wedding night”, he whispered softly, “but now I feel scared that I might do something, I might hurt you by my passion. Leave me now, saes, I cannot control myself anymore. I have to seek release”, his cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment as Anoriel pressed her hand against his growing arousal.
“I am happy that I can make you feel thus, ithil-nin. I will give you what you desire, for that is what I want”, Anoriel kissed the tear away, “You ride for war in three days. When we wed, we cannot be sure that it will be a happier time. When we are apart, I would have a souvenir of our times together.”
“I may not return, Anor-nin”, Thranduil said closing his eyes in pain, “I will not have you bind with me now. I will not wreck your life.”
“We are already bound by soul”, she whispered, “For ill or worse, I am yours and you are mine. Let us complete it.”
“True”, Thranduil opened his eyes, moist with still tears, “For ill or worse I have condemned yet one more soul to die for me.”
Anoriel silenced him gently with a kiss, it soon turned passionate with their fear and desperation. Finally, she broke apart roughly and sitting atop him, impatiently ripped at her elaborately laced nightrobe.
Thranduil chuckled weakly, as he leant upwards to pry her hands away and replaced them with his gentler ones.
Patiently, he undid each lace, causing her to remark, “Where did you learn to untie laces so well?”
“Never mind”, he said as he parted her dress down her slim shoulders and stooping to kiss her collar bone tenderly, “I will take up this task for you in our life, Anor-nin, lest you rip dresses each night.”
“I run out of patience”, she gasped as she kissed him again, “Hurry.”
“As you wish”, he said as he laid her out on the grass, her golden hair fanning against the green dampness of the ground. He then slowly removed his brilliant green betrothal robes, which still carried the scent of the flowers of Aman.
As they looked upon each other’s bodies for the first time, they said at the same time, “Most beautiful.”
They laughed as they flushed at their compliments and then he quietly began kissing her toes, his fingers ghosting over her soft legs.
“You can dispense with all that, you know”, she moaned, “and get on with the main act. We can do all this later.”
“Are you sure that you don’t have human blood”, he teased her, “impatient elleth? I will not get on with it until I worship each inch of this miracle.”
She rolled her eyes and then gasped as his tongue slithered under her feet, tickling her mercilessly, “Thranduil!”
“I am here”, he laughed as he proceeded to tickle her more, her helpless giggling a sweet music to his ears. She frowned and began retaliating as she lifted a leg and lightly traced it along his ribs, causing his eyelids to flutter in desire. She smiled victoriously before swiftly pouncing atop him, and watched as he fell back spread-eagled. The depth of emotion in his eyes as he lay before her, trusting and vulnerable, struck her to the core. She placed a kiss on his drawn in navel, before sliding up to gently rub her nose against his hardened nipples.
He moaned softly before whispering, “I cannot take more, Anor-nin. Torment me not any further.”
“I will never torment you”, she said quietly as she closed her eyes and slid onto his organ. As her virgin membrane broke, she screamed softly. His hands enveloped her as he drew her atop him, whispering endearments. He kissed her tears of pain away and slowly moved within her, and she screamed again, pleasure mingling with pain.
He stopped moving, and whispered fearfully, “Have I hurt you? I will never forgive myself.”
She shuddered and thrust to meet him again, this time, their pleasures ruled them and they moaned in unison. He pulled away from her as he climaxed, seeing her unhappy expression, he whispered, “No child of ours will be born out of wedlock, I will never give the world a reason to judge them harshly.”
She closed her eyes exhaustedly, pain and pleasure receding replaced only by a dull ache in her. He gently lifted her and walked to a pond, purring, “We should take a bath before we return, lest your Adar kill us both.”
She rested her against his chest, which beat in rhythm with her own and complained, “The water must be cold.”
He grinned mischievously as he entered the pond and ducked her, delighting in her squeals of protest. He washed her hair and then gently cleaned her body before taking a quick dip himself.
She watched his handsome body, sparkling in the moonlight, and whispered, “Come back to me, Ithil-nin.”
They held each other’s gaze for a moment, fear and uncertainty hanging in the air between them, before she said less seriously, “I hope you don’t try the humans during your eastward journey. I refuse to touch you if you try Isildur. Erestor told me rather despicable tales of him.”
“I promise that I will not touch anyone”, he assured her laughing, “The memories of this night will be enough for a lifetime away from you.”
“We will craft memories the next two nights, ernil-nin”, she said quietly, as she leaned into his touch, “But do not deny yourself pleasure when you are away from me.”
He shook his head silently and kissed her, tasting slightly of desperation, before he murmured, “We should return now, lest we are in trouble.”
“Sleep with me tonight”, she begged him, “Hold me, leave only at dawn. My brother will keep us safe.”
“I will never be able to deny you”, he said sighing.
“And carry me till there”, she pouted, “I am sure that you will know a dark, unused path where we may meet none.”
He rolled his eyes and obeyed promptly saying, “It is the most pleasing burden I have the fortune to bear.”
*****
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