Celridel: Thanks! They're a tad slow, but they'll warm even more eventually :)

This chapter feels quite miraculous, I was wondering if I'd finish it in time. I'll be on a trip for almost 3 weeks, with no laptop and plenty of things to do, so, to anyone who cares, this story won't be updated before November. I have the next chapter pretty much outlined so I'll probably start writing it down anyways…

But back in this chapter, we'll follow Meldis and Chamberlain Cirion, since they've been around for a while, but have had the chance to shine yet (also I'm not a big fan of wedding scenes, so following them was a nice way to avoid it).

There are a lot of people blushing and giggling in this chapter… I have to admit that I myself blush easily, so I relate to this a lot haha (I giggle like an idiot too, from time to time)

Chapter 10 – A Royal Wedding

It was a lovely morning and Meldis wished to tarry outside a little, as she was on her way to Fíriel's chambers. There was a wide fountain in one of the King's Halls cloisters and she had wanted to gaze at the blackbirds bathing in it – she really loved the way their feathers ruffled when they flapped their wings in the water. Yet she did not enjoy this spectacle very long, for she had caught a glimpse of a familiar silhouette coming towards her and it was that of smug Chamberlain Cirion. His loud steps ruined everything and the blackbirds flew away.

Meldis tended to avoid the Chamberlain, as well as many other lords and ladies who dwelled in the King's halls or who spent most their days there. Although she came from a noble house, her lineage was not especially prestigious and ever since her great-grandfather had settled in big house near Bree, it was almost as if her family had been forgotten in Fornost. Her mother, however, was kin with Queen Gilwen and Arvedui had oft visited his relatives during his younger days, for he enjoyed the countryside and the simple lifestyle that came with it. Meldis was aware it was because of the prince she had been admitted in the King's halls – he had wanted her to become a companion for Fíriel, but he had also wished she would get her chance to be acquainted with high society.

Fíriel's friendship was something Meldis cherished deeply and she had also grown quite fond of some the young ladies with whom she sewed and embroidered. Yet, aside from them, she struggled to be accepted by the other nobles and, at times, she felt scorned by them – she could almost hear them call her 'peasant' behind her back. Meldis would have rather not paid attention to them, and most of the time she did well at ignoring them, but it happened that she hoped they would consider her as one of their peers.

Although, in this moment, she only willed she'd be left alone with the fountain and the birds.

"Meldis, it is a pleasure to meet you in this charming cloister," the Chamberlain said and it seemed he was perfectly courteous for once.

"My Lord," she said, bowing her head quickly. "I was merely having a look at the fountain on my way to the princess' room."

"Well, I have to confess it is one of my favourite place in these halls," he told her, smiling. "I would linger here awhile, yet I am also expected elsewhere and the King has little patience left these days… I feel weary already…"

"The preparations for the wedding must be quite a workload," Meldis said, tentatively – she felt no particular sympathy for him, but it seemed like the right remark to make.

"The preparations? Oh, the Queen handles most it and she does so with great talent. His Majesty is more concerned by the Gondorian delegation and its growing numbers." And the more Gondorians the King saw, the worse his mood was.

"It is such a delight to meet so many of them…" said Meldis and, even though she would have gladly sung the praises of their southern guests, she fell silent.

The chamberlain's face had darkened. "His Majesty does not share your enthusiasm. Dozens and dozens of Gondorians have followed the princes and the Queen and we know not when they intend to leave, for some have expressed the wish to see winter in the north. They could become… cumbersome," he explained, quoting the King himself.

"It that what you truly think, my Lord?" Meldis exclaimed and she was a little shocked.

"It is what I used to think, yet these days my mind wavers… Arvedui has put his trust in the Gondorians and he always has had a good instinct. His Majesty, on the other hand, fears for the sovereignty of our kingdom, for there is no doubt our Southern allies are far more powerful than we are."

"The Gondorians are Dúnedain, they are more akin to us than any other people in Middle-earth. Thus, why would His Majesty be wary of them?"

"Perhaps he has not forgotten Dúnedain are not above fighting other Dúnedain."

"I hardly believe Gondor would threaten us in any way… They are under attack themselves."

"Indeed," said Cirion, nodding, and he thought so himself. Yet he did not know how to convince King Araphant it was useless to waste his energies on antagonizing the Gondorians. Despite being a robust man, the King was getting old, even for one of his kind, and with the passing of years his character had worsened – despair seemed to overwhelm him at times. "Well, I do not doubt the wedding shall seal the alliance and, aside from a few… verbal incidents, nothing should stand in the way of the renewed friendship with the southern Dúnedain," the Chamberlain told Meldis, puffing his chest, as if to restore his own confidence.

"I suppose you are right," she agreed and she did believe Arthedain and Gondor's ties would tighten far more than most Northerners could expect.

Unlike most people in Fornost, Meldis had spent the last months in the company of Gondorians – and it was true their numbers were growing in the north. She knew Fíriel better than any other in the King's hall, save for Arvedui perhaps, and she had spent time with her brothers and, recently, her mother. They were determined to forge this alliance, their minds were set, yet the lords and ladies of Fornost did not seem to have realized it, thinking the Southerners were playing a game and had merely taken a fancy to traveling North.

Hopefully Arvedui was cleverest than most and his will to ally to Dúnedain and to fight their enemies was as strong as the Gondorians'. And though he was less brutal with his words than was his father, his influence over the court grew slowly and steadily and Meldis understood the Chamberlain would now side with the prince

"Well… I should be going, as I said, his Majesty's patience dwindles quite fast these days," muttered lord Cirion, glancing Meldis.

She did not notice the longing in his gaze, oblivious as she could be sometimes.

"Of course, my Lord, you should not keep the King waiting."

And, having no more to say, they parted, and the Chamberlain was a bit reluctant to go. In his eyes, Meldis was by far the prettiest lady in Fornost. He loved her long black hair, the cascade of curls that fell on her back, and he loved the way her dark eyes sparkles when she smiled or laughed – ah, and those dimples… But there was more to it than looks. She was smart, she was sensible, she was… adorable.

And, unfortunately, she always seemed to flee before him.

The first days of June were happy days in Fornost and perhaps that was when Meldis realized just how glad she was to have left her father's house – for a while, at least. It seemed no more Gondorians would come from the south, yet guests to the royal wedding had been arriving from all over Arthedain, and from more exotic places.

There were Elves from the Grey Havens, sent by lord Círdan, and Elves from Rivendell, and among them were the sons of Elrond, fair and mighty. King Araphant welcomed them with great deference, thanking them for the friendship they ever displayed towards him and his people, and although Meldis thought he was sincere, she noticed he said it in a loud and clear voice so he would be heard by Queen Russiel and her sons. The close ties his kingdom had maintained with the Elven lords was something he prided himself with immensely, although he could barely take any credit for it.

However, Meldis did not pay much attention to the King or to the Queen of Gondor, or to any men or women for that matter, as she found herself enthralled by the glorious vision of the Elves. She had seen some of them before, but so rarely, so briefly that they had always seemed ethereal to her, as if belonging to another world – and perhaps they really were just visitors in Middle-earth, as old legends suggested. They were like beautiful statues that had come to life, surrounded by light and laughter, and wherever they went, they glided gracefully, and Meldis blushed every time she met eyes with one of them.

Of course, they expressed the wish to visit the greenhouses, knowing trees and plants from Númenor were to be found inside, and for once King Araphant seemed to believe it was useful Fíriel had spent so much energy into restoring them. The laurinquë, particularly, caused quite a stir and it was admired loudly. The praises of the Elves were music to Meldis' ears, almost literally, and she was unable to do much in their presence, aside from staring at them and gaping. Fíriel was more at ease with them than Meldis was, for she had seen some of their folk when she had travelled to Dor-en-Ernil, not far from Edhellond, yet she was also a little bewitched by them – never had Meldis heard her giggle so often.

Though the Elves were perhaps the most remarkable guests to have arrived in Fornost, they were not the only delegations that entered the city the week before the wedding. Men from Cardolan and from Rhudaur came as well, proudly wearing their colors, and while they were not as striking as the Elves, they were welcomed in due form. King Araphant was all smiles when he met the emissaries, not that he was especially pleased to see them, yet it was quite a treat for him to navigate throughout his halls with them in his tow. He took his time, introducing them to the Gondorian lords, to the princes and to the Queen, and relished to see these men from petty kingdoms bow so low in front of the Southerners.

"I believe he agreed to this alliance only to stuff it down his neighbors' throats," Meldis heard lord Faramir muttered to his brother.

Artamir did not make any reply, yet Meldis saw his lips slightly curving up. The princes had always been admirable when dealing with King Araphant, or so she had heard, but when they knew their words could not reach his ears, they allowed themselves a few remarks of this kind – especially Faramir who, much like his mother, had to exert great control on himself not to lose patience with the old sovereign.

Before she had become better acquainted with the Southerners, Meldis had never really formed an opinion of her own about King Araphant. And even then, she did not mind political issues for it seemed beyond her, yet there one was thing she had understood about the King that she would not forget: he was not a family man. He did treat well the Queen, but he had no real love for her, and as for his son, he had let him grown in solitude, the shadow of the prophecy hovering above his head.

Meldis was not surprised Arvedui had enjoyed staying with her family – they were not close kin, but they had always welcomed him warmly.

On the morning of the wedding, Meldis entered Fíriel's chambers at dawn, in company of Queen Russiel. While they would not do much with their own hands, there were a lot of people and things they would have to supervise in order to transform the princess in a splendid bride – the Queen was determined to cover her daughter with as much jewels as possible. Overall, the preparations went well and Meldis was fascinated by the princess' rich garbs and the elaborate braids the Gondorian servants did with Fíriel's hair. And Queen Russiel herself took care of the final touch, a small golden tiara on her daughter's hair, and she was adjusting it carefully and making sure it would stay in place long enough.

"You are not too displeased with him, are you?" inquired the Queen, her fingers running along Fíriel's braids.

She had meant to ask this for a while, but she knew her daughter might be flustered by it.

"He is a good man, I daresay it could have been worse," the princess replied quickly and such modesty made Meldis grin.

Her friend had not been very opened about her feelings for Arvedui, but it had been easy enough to notice how she had warmed up to him and how he seemed to have become charmed by her – surely Queen Russiel had gathered as much.

"A good man, no more? The way you look at him, one could believe you hold him in highest regard."

"I… I came to know him better, it is true I do consider him with great respect."

"Respect? Oh, Fíriel, dearest, there is no need to be shy with me. It is love I see shining in your eyes and, if I am not mistaken, in his too."

Meldis had never seen her friend blushing so furiously, the redness of her cheeks swallowing her freckles.

"It is all so new to me, Mother…" muttered the princess and, despite her embarrassment, she could not help but smile a little.

Queen Russiel let out a small laugh, gently stroking her daughter's hair.

"You know how I feel about this wedding… or rather, how I felt. Losing you to this alliance seemed unnecessary and marrying you to a man whose birth was marked by an ambiguous prophecy… seemed risky at best. Our people so easily ignore he is called the Last King, yet, as your mother, I cannot discard this foretelling name of his, not when your fate shall be tied to his. And now that I met the King…"

"Mother, Arvedui is nothing like his father, you–"

"I know, Fíriel, he has been spared by the shadows that have overcome his father. And even King Araphant… he is old. He barks but does not bite." Queen Russiel sighed, putting a kiss on Fíriel's forehead, like a blessing.

"Thus…?"

"Thus, I have come to think you might be happy here. And perhaps… perhaps you and Arvedui shall fare well, perhaps he will change his name for a good reason."

"I dearly hope so…" whispered Fíriel.

"Well, today we cannot afford to brood about the possible outcomes of an old prophecy," said the Queen, finally satisfied with the way the tiara rested on her daughter's hair.. "It is almost time for you to go meet your betrothed and I do believe his jaw will drop when he shall see you!"

Arvedui was a man who scarcely displayed his emotions in public and he did not gape upon seeing Fíriel entering the great hall, where the formal ceremony was to be held. But Queen Russiel was sharp-eyed and, despite the prince's dark beard, she did not fail to notice how he blushed when her daughter walked to him – he was not made of ice, after all.

Later that day, when they exchanged their vows, Arvedui and Fíriel both smiled, staring at each other, almost forgetting the hundreds of guests who surrounded them – the ceremony was far from being intimate. There were no grand gestures, all was to be found in small details: the genuine focus of Arvedui when he had passed the golden ring on Fíriel's finger, for he had tried to be delicate, or the way the princess's hands had slipped around his neck, as she stood on tiptoe to welcome his kiss.

It was obvious they had become enamoured with one another, Meldis thought, and all the guests had probably noticed that this arranged marriage was no burden for either of the spouses. The celebration seemed to work some magic on the prince and the princess and during a few blissful hours, nothing could disturb their happiness – even the Witch-King appeared to be a far and absurd threat. Although she knew about it, Meldis was surprised by the complicity they displayed and, seeing the way Arvedui's gaze softened whenever his grey eyes landed on Fíriel, she could not help but feel a tinge of jealousy stir in her chest. She did wonder when it would be her turn to tie the knot, yet she did not wonder for long.

Perhaps she usually was not one who was much sought after, but on this glorious wedding day, Meldis became the object of a great deal of attention. First were the Gondorians, those who had been lurking around her for a while and who thought their princess had made the right choice when befriending Meldis, for she was one of the loveliest maidens in Fornost. Then a few young men from Cardolan and Rhudaur joined in, because they had not failed to spot the girl with the long curly black hair who was twirling merrily with the Southerners. At that point, Beril and other ladies came to Meldis's rescue, luring some of her suitors away by claiming them as their new dance partners.

And at last, the lords of Fornost seemed to notice something was going on and they decided that since Bree was part of their kingdom, countryside or not, Meldis should save her energy to waltz with them before she even should consider dancing with others. It ended beingl a very energetic whirlwind of frills and laughter and hours passed before Meldis could discreetly slip away – she was in dire need of a fresh drink and some food.

And it was right when she was not-so-gracefully devouring her second slice of raspberry tart, in a discreet corner of the hall, that Queen Gilwen came by her side, smiling brightly.

"Ah, my dear Meldis, are you enjoying yourself?" she inquired.

The Queen was walking from one group of guests to another, chatting a little and making sure everyone was having a good time, yet she too wanted to get some of this delicious tart.

"Very much, your Highness. It is a grand feast."

"I must say I am quite delighted myself… and who knew my son and Fíriel got along so well," said the Queen, giggling and glancing at Meldis. "Had she perhaps confessed some of her secrets to you?"

"She is not very expansive, yet I have gathered that she and the prince have grown closer over the last weeks," Meldis replied modestly.

Queen Gilwen beamed, yet she said nothing, and this was a noteworthy event in itself. She had never worried about her son finding a bride, for he was a prince after all, however she had never hoped he'd be happy to marry. And while she'd never admit it, the Queen had also doubted Fíriel would succeed in becoming intimate with Arvedui.

"Your Majesty, lady Meldis, I think I shall have a taste of this pie myself."

Meldis had just finished her third slice and she was too busy wiping her mouth with one of those embroidered handkerchiefs she had sewn herself to greet Chamberlain Cirion properly. Beside her, Queen Gilwen quickly swallowed a mouthful of honey cake before regaining her usual composure.

"Lord Cirion, I believe you've had your fair share of entertainment this afternoon, have you not? I daresay, the ladies won't give you a rest."

"Oh, I barely danced two or three times, your Majesty, yet I have to compliment you, for this wedding is a success and I have heard nothing but praises from our guests."

"Thank you, Chamberlain, I must say, our efforts have paid off… Ah, this reminds me I should not linger here too long, I need to find the stewards and make sure we will not run out of wine too soon!"

Before leaving, she put a hand on the Chamberlain's arm, whispering in his ear, "Do be kind and dance with Meldis. She has been standing here alone awhile already, and I fear the poor creature has had little entertainment so far."

It was a lie, but the Queen fancied herself to be an excellent matchmaker and she had decided it was time for the Chamberlain to consider taking a bride.

"I was… I… Of course, your Majesty," muttered Cirion, taken aback.

He might have looked disappointed, but he was not. Truth be told, he had planned on asking Meldis for a dance and simply had not had the opportunity to do it thus far. And since it had been a request from the Queen, he allowed himself to hope Meldis had maybe been too shy to approach him herself.

"Shall we…?" he said, extending his arm to Meldis.

She took it, avoiding his gaze. He was not exactly displeasing to look at, yet he had proved to be haughty at times and Meldis had become a bit wary of him – she imagined he had a rather poor opinion of a muddy peasant like her. But it soon turned out he was nice to her and, quite frankly, he was an excellent dance partner, agile and graceful. As far as rhythm was concerned, they were a good match and for a while they lost themselves in music.

And twirling around, they eventually collided into Arvedui and Fíriel.

"My Lord, my Lady, you are quite a sight to behold," lord Cirion said in a very formal manner, as he bowed his head slightly.

Beside him, Meldis felt the need to curtsy, for there was a calm assurance about the prince and the princess and they both looked majestic – that Arvedui looked regal could not surprise Cirion, but Fíriel caught his eyes. It was not just the dresses, outrageously bright and rich, or the jewels, sparkling and finely crafted: there was a gleam in her eyes the chamberlain had failed to notice so far. A flame burned in her grey irises, small but steady, and perhaps nothing could quench it, and it was familiar to Cirion, for the same fire lighted Arvedui's gaze.

The Chamberlain could not help but stare at the princess. In fall, when the little princess, shy and discreet, had come to Arthedain, she had disappointed many who had had hoped to be dazzled. They had mocked her freckles, her shyness and the way she had so quickly befriended a lowly maiden like Meldis – but what other choice had they left her, back then?

Cirion himself had deemed Fíriel to be too dull for Arvedui. As the Prince's friend, he could not help it, for he had hoped for a more assertive lady, someone who had been strong enough to face the harshness of winter in their lands. Yet since then his opinion of her had shifted and he did not dislike Fíriel, for he had understood she was willing to adjust to the northern life. Her attachment to the greenhouses was a little odd, but it was her only quirk and even he had to recognize her hard work had benefited the palace. It was also impressive she had somehow managed to hunt down all the old gardeners and botanists of Fornost.

And Cirion had been impressed by Arvedui's own words about his bride-to-be, those he had told him a few weeks ago, in strict confidence.

"She is not dazzling, yet would such a woman have suited me? Perhaps she will never have to display her strength the way a man would, but she is strong within, she is clever and she has courage. Whatever awaits us, I know she will stand by my side… and that is a relief I had never dared hoped for."

This, above all, had had the Chamberlain thinking. It'd take a few months, perhaps a year or two, but the prince and the princess would eventually outshine the old King and the Queen, or so Cirion reckoned. And it was enough of an accomplishment already, for it'd bring vitality to the realm and the people of Arthedain needed a new vision. They needed to dream, they needed to believe the Witch-King could be defeated, and Arvedui and Fíriel were the only ones who could make such hopes come to life.

It seemed only logical Elves would attend the wedding. Círdan was an ally of Arthedain (as we'll see later) and Elrond, well… is almost family (and he'll foster most of Arvedui and Fíriel's descendants). However, I don't believe it'd be coherent for Círdan and Elrond to come themselves, during the 3rd Age they seem pretty 'static', like rooted in one place, but they'd send emissaries and gifts at least.

Lots of fluff coming in the next chapter!