This one and the betrothal chapter were the hardest somehow.
In my head the elven ladies are wearing dresses from Elie Saab F/W 2015... :D or the starry/flowery dresses from Valentino F/W 2015! Not that I'm really into haute couture, but this time it fits.
Credit goes to Tolkien.
Chapter 9
61 Y.S. Spring, lake Mithrim
Westward the last rays of sun still lingered in the sky, but already stars lightened up one by one and the smooth surface of lake Mithrim reflected these pretty celestial gems. Near the banks, where flat circular stones provided fortuitous paths through the crystal clear water, small white lanterns had been scattered and the swans inhabiting the area paddled around them, unconsciously adding to the beauty of the scenery. Long tables and a single marquee, made of vaporous muslin and birch wood, were the only furnitures to have been set up in anticipation of the feast, as the bride and groom relied more on what nature could offer them, than on any other device. Birds provided the sweetest music, flowers and butterflies added patch of colors and at dusk a swarm of fireflies brighten up the location Findekáno and Ilmië had chosen to celebrate their wedding.
They had not themselves arrived yet, as they had gone in the woods to exchange vows in front of their fathers, but they were expected any time soon and guests had already taken place in their seats. Quite a noble crowd had been assembled, although not too numerous, for Findekáno, of all Finwë's descendants, was probably the one who was most unanimously loved and respected by his kin - he did get along with everyone. And on the edge of the lake, Maitimo and Ristion had been assigned nearby seats. It had been decades since they had seen each other, yet they still felt comfortable around one another and their greetings were sincerely warm.
- Lord Ristion, I did not have the pleasure of meeting you since you moved to Vinyamar, said Maitimo. I assume you have fared well.
- I did, it is kind of you to inquire, answered Ristion. I sometimes wish my uncle and my cousin would dwell with me, but it seems different paths lie ahead of us.
- Hopefully, many memories have you shared together before you parted.
- Oh, lord Maitimo, do not expect the times I spent with Ilmië to be as thrilling as those you spent with lord Findekáno, laughed Ristion. I can not recall how often she and her sister made me sit still for hours, holding out yarn that they would spin. Since I am younger than both of them, for a long time I could hardly fight back and was used over and over like some domestic tool against my will.
- Indeed, having grown up with six brothers, these are issues I never had to face, admitted Maitimo, laughing along. Although my friendship with Findekáno might be lacking a few knitting sessions.
- It does not, do trust me my Lord.
- I'm afraid I would be utterly inept at handling needles, anyhow.
- Swords and needles are not as unlike as one may think, for they both tend to pierce nastily through the skin, explained Ristion, still smiling. My dear cousin's hands, though pale and lovely, appear to have been made out of the thickest leather, I never once saw her bleed and the tip of her fingers has oft been under attack.
- Lady Ilmië may be a seasoned seamstress, yet I shall remain one-handed and unfit for meticulous works.
Ristion could not help but look at Maitimo's stump and this brought him back to the times he assisted his uncle during the construction of Barad Eithel. The terrible visions from their crossing over the Helcaraxë were fresh in his mind then - he had lost his sister in the cruel ice, and his father had died not long after - and Ristion had been hostile to the Fëanorian's presence in their workshop although he had kept down his opinion on the matter. Weeks, months passed by, allowing Ristion to watch Maitimo up close, and at last he had deemed his original reluctance to be unfair. In his mind, Fëanor's eldest son was progressively set apart from the rest of his family and from an abstract being he became a real person that had suffered unspeakable tortures, an Elf whom Ristion wished would heal, for he needed to believe Morgoth's powers could be overcome. And what had been dislike and distrust turned into admiration, and even friendship, especially after Ristion had heard Maitimo had not taken part in the burning of the ships.
- Lord Maitimo, I am deeply honored we are now kin through our cousins' marriage, finally said Ristion.
The compliment took Maitimo by surprise, he rarely received any praise outside of his household, or of his brothers'. Moreover, Ristion's face suddenly wore a solemn expression, and Maitimo felt so touched he struggled to find the right words to thank him. He had blurted out a quick "thank you" when he was interupted by Findekáno and Ilmië's arrival, that was signaled by an enthusiastic round of applause.
Husband and wife looked splendid, both of them sporting their own set of colors. Findekáno was clad in dark blue and silver, his refined attire brought out his bright complexion and noble features. The well defined line of his jaw and his sharp and high cheekbones made him look mighty, yet a smile curling up his lips and sparkles in his grey eyes softened the strength he exuded. A golden circlet adorned his brow, and he wore it with as much majesty as his father, and around his neck was hung a finely crafted necklace inlaid with sapphires - a gift from lord Carmo. His long dark brown hair was neatly braided, entwined with silver and gold threads, and the plaits formed an elegant crown his sister had patiently created.
Ilmië had never been so radiant, and perhaps she caused the greatest surprise when she made her appearance, her arm linked to her husband's. Even in smaller assemblies she never was one to attract attention and although since her betrothal to Findekáno her name had often been mentioned here and there, she had remained a discreet figure. To many it seemed they were seeing her for the first time, a dazzling silhouette wrapped in white, beige and gold, gliding gracefully and beaming with such candor that lanterns seemed pale in comparison. Her pretty heart-shaped face was frame by waves of golden hair and she too wore delicate jewelry, yet her eyes shone more vividly than any gem.
The two of them took place at the center of the main table, by their side were their fathers, and after a few wishes were pronounced, dinner began.
- This golden ring around her finger has put some spell on her, even her skin glitters... muttered Ristion to himself, and Maitimo silently agreed.
When plates had been emptied, and cups filled again with delicious drinks, the vast majority of guests were immersed in conversation and the mood was merry indeed. King Nolofinwë was doting on Itarillë and he liked to complain he did not see her often enough while he fed her with freshly baked honey cakes and various other sweets. Írissë had reunited with her favourite cousins - some, who did not bear the sons of Fëanor in their hearts, suspected Tyelkormo and Curufinwë had only made it to Hithlum to meet her - and they had much to tell each other, as usual. Lord Carmo and Círneth had relocated next to Findaráto with whom they talked of caves and gardens, of grey and green, and Ilmië's father could only express his regrets not to be able to see Menegroth with his own eyes. Ristion and Aglarwen stood not far from them, listening to Aikanáro who delighted them with many tales of his childhood adventures with Findekáno. Truth be told, Aglarwen had been disappointed at first when she had seen Findaráto was accompanied by his youngest brother, and not by Angaráto, whom she had anxiously expected. But melancholia did not suit her well, and her flamboyant self felt home in the midst of festivities, thus she had happily taken part in the preparations and even brought together a choir of Falathrim, some of the finest voices from the havens.
Their first song was the cue for dancers to gather : Findekáno and Ilmië opened the ball and though many joined them afterwards, none twirled with a bliss matching the newlyweds'. Long did they dance, gazing at each other, oblivious of their surroundings, as if they were trying to get the measure of their happiness. But, far from being moved by this display of love, their friends and families would not let them be so selfish and Itarillë, with her father's help, took hold of her uncle while it was Maitimo who seized the bride, his tall stature having been an undeniable asset when he had pushed aside other suitors.
- You are glowing, Ilmië, perhaps your maids have dipped you and your clothes in honey? teased Maitimo, as they started swirling around.
- Honey... how did you find out? My mother used to call me Lís, a long time ago.
- Lís? It does suit you well, I shall remember that.
- I am married now, shouldn't it be my husband's privilege to make use of such a sweet nickname?
- If I word it nicely enough, I am sure Findekáno would prove generous and grant me some special permission.
Maitimo's mood was excellent, he had always been one to relish festivities, although most of this genuine glee he had left behind him in Aman. Yet at times, he still had the capacity for entertainment and as he foresaw it would soon completely leave him, he did not like to overlook opportunities to celebrate.
- I wonder if there is anything he'd dare refuse you, laughed Ilmië.
- Not much, I reckon, said Maitimo with a mischievous smile.
They danced a bit more and it was already time for them to part. Írissë caught Maitimo, a somehow not so unpleasant capture, and when Ilmië turned around she found herself face to face with lord Turukáno who was her freshly new brother-in-law.
She was not well acquainted with him, although she had stayed in Vinyamar and heard much about him from his siblings, and from her own cousin. Ristion seemed to have put his faith in lord Turukáno, like her father had done with King Nolofinwë when they had left Aman, and held him in high regard. Írissë had chosen to dwell with him by the Great Sea, and she had often said the fire within him was softer than his father or his elder brother's, though no less powerful when battle was raging. Ilmië too thought he was less of a warlord and more of a wise ruler, yet she did not doubt his valor. Less fierce than Findekáno might he be, taller he stood, and a welcoming smile brightened his gentle face. It was natural, if not customary, for lord Turukáno to ask the bride for a dance, nonetheless Ilmië was surprised to see him approached her, both his hands extended, palms turned upward. And before she knew it, he was guiding her steps with effortless ease.
- No one ever told me you were such a skillful dancer, lord Turukáno, she exclaimed.
His smile broadened at her words.
- Now that we are kin, shall we be more familiar with one another, Ilmië?
- It would be a pleasure.
- I must confess I am relieved there will be a lady in Hithlum, for I was afraid it was rather selfish of me to keep both Itarillë and Írissë with me in Vinyamar.
- I might never stand on par with your daughter and your sister, said Ilmië with sincere modesty, but I will certainly do my best to honor your family.
Turukáno laughed softly.
- Oh, I trust you will, he said, but it'd be an even greater achievement if you could soften my brother's sternness. What I see today is already quite promising.
Findekáno could be seen revolving hand in hand with his niece and he had this carefree look on his face he used to have when he knew no worries, in the Undying Lands. He was exactly like that when Ilmië had first saw him and loved him.
- I do not recall seeing you dance much in Vinyamar, and neither Itarillë and Írissë spared any effort to cheer you, said Ilmië giggling a little. You can not be so different from your brother.
- My wife herself used to go through much trouble when time came to rejoice during festivals and more than once had she to drag me along, for I tend to observe more than I take part in. She was very fond of dancing and my daughter took after her in that aspect... and in many others, said Turukáno as his eyes lingered on Ilmië's golden hair.
- Should I assume then that today you are making an exception?
- It is a unique occasion, be sure to enjoy it while it lasts.
He chuckled and added:
- We do love blonde hair best, it seems. It must run in the family.
Ilmië flushed, not realizing he meant to jest.
- I will have to keep a close eye on Laurëfindil, were he to get too close to Írissë we might end up completely overwhelmed, kept teasing Turukáno.
They laughed together and Ilmië felt two hands press on her shoulders.
- Lord Turukáno, may I borrow my cousin? I'm afraid your own sister calls for your presence by her side, she claims the last time you ever care to dance with her your daughter wasn't even born, said Ristion as he put a kiss on Ilmië's cheek. At least, these were her words...
Ilmië and her partner slowed down their motions and Turukáno replied, with a grin:
- I should go before she starts spreading more false rumours on my behalf.
He swiftly bowed and headed toward Írissë who was happily waving at him.
- She is probably not so far from the truth, we almost never see Lord Turukáno dance or hear him sing, said Ristion. And so, my Lady, shall we show this gallant assembly the very definition of grace and majesty?
- We have some dashing competitors tonight, I hope your skills haven't gone rusty in Vinyamar.
- Do not worry, Círneth makes certain I remain a most accomplished fellow.
Ristion would wed his betrothed within the next few years and seemed to have cast away all doubts concerning matrimony.
- Do you remember we both thought we'd never find such happiness in these lands?
- I do. But do not fool yourself, dear cousin, your sister told me long ago you had fallen for Findekáno and I never quite believed you when you told me you had never given marriage any thought, said Ristion, sniggering.
Ilmië pretended to be indignant and her cousin kissed her on the forehead, seeking her forgiveness.
- You did well no to refuse such bliss, my sweet Ilmië.
The feast was still going on outside, but Findekáno and Ilmië had deemed it was time for them to retrieve to their chamber and had found a way to escape the eager crowd - no one would have denied them some privacy in the end. They had been assigned even larger apartments than the King, and from the large windows they could enjoy a beautiful view of the lake and its still and smooth surface, like a polished mirror. Lights from outside softly radiated in the vast room, bringing out the pure white of the furniture, yet nothing was brighter than the newlyweds' eyes and for a while they gazed at each other, in silence. No words could express how they felt at this moment and they wouldn't waste their breath when a simple touch of the hand could effectively convey their feelings.
Findekáno moved first and he took off his circlet, his bracelets, the necklace Lord Carmo had offered him and two rings he usually wore, so that the only remaining jewel on him was his golden wedding ring, on his forefinger. Next he proceeded to unbraid his hair, carefully, and this gesture amused Ilmië.
- Do you intend to comb it as well? she teased, as she ran her fingers in his locks.
- Should I? he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.
She shook her head.
- No, help me with my own jewels please.
He readily complied, though with no haste, as he went through her ornaments with great care, leaving a kiss here and there on his way. When he was done, Ilmië rested her head against his chest, her eyes closed, inhaling his fresh scent. She felt whole and utterly contented, her body pleasantly warming up against his, and she knew Findekáno was in a similar state of mind, for his breath was deep and steady.
- I hardly can believe we are married, she whispered, it seems only yesterday I was still watching you from afar.
- Would that I had noticed you earlier, dearest, he said, bending his head to kiss her.
His fingers kept running up and down her back, lower and lower, and she held him tight, praying for times like these to last forever.
- Findekáno, I am truly happy in this moment, she said, staring at him with her beautiful starry eyes.
And he, he had never adored her with such force. Yet he did not tell her, he simply kissed her again, putting all his trust in his lips and hands to make Ilmië understand just how much she was desired. It did take him some discipline not to overthrow her on the bed and rip apart her dresses - Findekáno knew his wife had worked hard and long on her garments - and he soon discovered it was a rather luscious and satisfying sensation to remove her layers one by one until her soft skin was bare. Pleasure grew even greater while his own clothes were discarded by her skilled fingers and it sent shivers down his spine. Before focusing completely on his wife, the last thing Findekáno glimpsed were dark brown strands mingling with blonde hair on the crumpled bed sheets.
Laurëfindil = Glorfindel, and as you might have guessed lís means honey in Quenya.
I'm bit of a hair fetishist ^^;;; the reason why Ilmië has blonde hair is pretty much only because Findekáno has dark hair. I have a thing for couples with different hair color...