While many elvish wedding ceremonies were held around midnight, Men did fortunately not have to wait that long. And in this case, it was the traditions of the folk that the King belonged to, that counted. Therefore, the marriage would take place quite at the beginning of the festivities.
But even that little bit of further waiting felt like an eternity if other than planned, one had to welcome the guests alone at the city gate, because there was still no sign of the groom. And the long ride back up to the Citadel was next – given the circumstances, a risk not to be underestimated. Covering that road surrounded by guards was actually not usual, but Aragorn did rather want to see one soldier too much around him today than regretting anything later. The streets were filled with cheering people; there had already been almost no getting through earlier, and that would surely not get better anytime soon.
Waiting next to her horse in the cover of her escort, Arwen looked up at the Citadel again and again.
Brego by her other side was already pawing at the ground as if he did know why they'd put a pearly-white headgear adorned with precious jewels on him today that posed a beautiful contrast to his auburn fur.
Alagas nosed Arwen questioningly. He wasn't used to being prepared for a ride and just having to stand around then.
Arwen fondled his neck apologetically. "I'm sorry, boy. Today, you can't dash across the fields. On our way through the rings, we'll have to be slow."
When she finally spotted Aragorn, surrounded by many congratulants, she noticed that she couldn't see anyone else she knew. Neither Aragorn's advisor council was there, nor the elves from Imladris whose visit they had both been looking forward to very much. Not even Gimli was around though Arwen had thought him to be with her betrothed right now. Apparently, everyone was ducking out of the monotonous ride through the streets.
At the sight of her soon-to-be-husband, Arwen did sincerely no longer mind. By wearing the silver-blue armor of Gondor on this extremely important day once more, Aragorn reminded the people of the war they'd won not too long ago. The stiff shoulder plates had been left at home; instead, a white tunic with rich embroidery on the shoulders, the collar, and the sleeves covered his broad upper body. A night blue cloak hung from a silver chain around his neck, almost reaching his knees where long dark boots worn over white breeches completed the picture. Galadriel's eagle-shaped brooch with the Elfstone in it adorned his right shoulder, Barahir's ring his left hand. Andúril, too, was in its traditional spot, on a broad black leather belt. And, of course, the unavoidable heavy crown.
Finally getting away from all his companions, Aragorn greeted Arwen with a kiss to her knuckles. "Allow your King to take you to our wedding, Nauriel." He came to stand sideways to Alagas to help Arwen get in the saddle so that she wouldn't possibly tear her dress.
Only when she was bracing one of her ankles on his folded hands and his face was very close to hers for a second, he whispered to her that she was more beautiful than the unclouded sky.
"It's only you who can make me smile like that." She breathed a quick kiss on her fingertips and put them on his lips. She would have loved to give him a real kiss but especially today, etiquette was extremely important.
There was no time for further caresses anyway because Brego hit his owner between his shoulder blades as if he wanted to remind him of everything else planned for today.
"You keep that up, you'll be on the wedding menu, mellon." Not only did Aragorn seem more relaxed than in the whole last year; he'd even found a hint of his humor back that in the war had become rarer by the day. Arwen would probably never see him be completely chipper again – that had already been a rare condition after his 20. birthday –, but it was better than nothing.
His confused frown returned only when she asked him if he had taken so long because Gimli had given him the most ridiculous fashion choices. "I haven't seen him since last night." Filled with concern immediately, he grabbed Brego's reins and got into the saddle himself. "Maybe the soldiers should look for two badly injured duelists at Cair Andros." That didn't sound as humorous as planned though.
Gimli was the one who had been hit the hardest by the terrible fight between Aragorn and Legolas, especially since the mood between Legolas and him had already been icy before. When reconstruction in Minas Tirith had been finished, for the most part, Gimli as the newly reigning Lord had gone to his people in the Glittering Caves of Aglarond – without a word of good-bye.
Before that, he'd been there for at Aragorn's coronation, of course, and he'd visited a few short times in between as well, but never long enough for a real conversation. That Legolas hadn't kept his promise to go on a journey with Gimli after the war had driven a wedge in that friendship, just like Legolas' rash wedding in Imladris that Gimli had impossible been able to attend.
Maybe Gimli had decided to make a comment in his very own way about not a single elf of Cair Andros showing up in Minas Tirith, on this day that was not only so important for the King but also for one of their own folk. Who could tell how a seasoned dwarf thought, talks between a dwarf and elf were supposed to look like, given the still insecure friendship between the two folks?
"I don't think they need to." Arwen already stopped Alagas after a few steps.
Almost unnoticed, the soldiers at the gate had summoned reinforcements in the last few minutes. A row of experienced men raised their weapons, blocking the entrance to the city. That could only mean one thing …
The roaring neigh of an untamable horse, accompanied by the fine sound of bells, confirmed Arwen's suspicion, especially when the white stallion reared, so that she was able to see it and its rider through the blockade. Asfaloth with Glorfindel on his back, the latter wearing his golden armor, carrying his shield and the legendary sword of Gondolin by his side. He hadn't drawn it – not yet –, but his expression didn't exactly reveal gushing joy about this kind of welcome.
So much for a peaceful start of the ceremony.
"Make a hole." Aragorn was the first one to speak up. Leaving Arwen's side, he rode to meet the elf. It was bitter that his enthusiasm about an old friend's surprising appearance was so limited. After all, there was no way to tell what kind of message Glorfindel was possibly bringing from Cair Andros.
"I'm not used to Imladris elves being so unpunctual."
"Forgive the delay, Estel." The sight of Glorfindel had already caused awe in many of the spectators. There were only a few elven warriors whose legends were still so well-known even to other folks.
When he waved one of his companions close with a short gesture, new murmurs arose among the masses.
Wearing the same armor, the same Golden Shield of Gondolin - adorned with the usual rayed sun -, and without a trace of the bad injuries from the last crisis, even people who had met Thondrar before wouldn't have recognized him immediately. His big resemblance to Glorfindel that neither of them had been hiding behind distance or hoods for a while now, had become really hard to ignore at last. It wasn't there only in the face but especially in that soft golden hair. Soon, word would reach even the last elves of Middle-earth that the hero of all Ages had finally faced his past and was fighting with his son by his side in the last conflict of the elves on this world.
With his strong voice, Thondrar could easily drown out the background noise. "The elves of North Ithilien who want to congratulate the King on his marriage, come in the company of the House of the Golden Flower, so that in this hour of bliss, a necessary distance might be kept on both sides. The elves are coming here without weapons or protection safe ours, to assure the King their unbroken loyalty."
Aragorn quickly eyed the fields behind the two of them in the distance to find where the elves of Legolas' settlement were gathering with their horses, waiting for an answer. He didn't need the eyes of a Firstborn to make out the gold blond mane that distinguished Thranduil's son so much, or his bow from Lórien, shining white and silver in the sun, that he was putting down with visible reluctance at that very moment.
"No elf ever had to fear anything from the King's House in these walls, as long as they don't plan riots in this city. Therefore, they won't be in need of any protection if they've really come with the intention you name," he finally explained. "Besides, at my wedding, I would like to welcome you and your father as my friends, not as guards."
"Then our gratitude is yours." Glorfindel gifted him with a warm smile, every worry that the difficult situation was causing forgotten for a moment. "The city is full of congratulators, so the elves will build their camp for this night outside its gates. We follow you, Estel."
Given the danger that one of Aragorn's old Ring Companions of all people posed to the security of Minas Tirith, an assurance that didn't lack a certain irony; but maybe they would really be able to forget that at least for the next few hours. Aragorn trusted Glorfindel more than most people in his life. The Lord was mostly staying with Legolas anyway to make sure that Legolas wouldn't start something in a rush that might end in a war. He wouldn't have allowed this visit if he hadn't trusted it to proceed peacefully.
Thondrar and he left their horses outside, unsaddled and with their reins unfastened. Just like Arod and the others, they would be waiting nearby the bundles of tents, far from the crowd. By foot then, they led their group right into the masses of Men, ignoring how many of the people instinctively retreated, either in fear or dislike.
They also ignored how a few of the citizens immediately started to exchange aggressive looks, probably tempted to start spreading one of the many slogans against Firstborn again that had been poisoning the air for weeks. It was clear to see that only the presence of the King and especially of the future Queen stopped them from it.
Murmurs all around grew only louder when Legolas himself passed the gates of the city that he'd been banned from not too long ago, after an approving wave of Aragorn towards his soldiers. If he could feel Aragorn's questioning glance on him, he ignored it. Deliberately, no doubt, he was always surrounded by his friends, always staying close to his most loyal supporters Camhanar and Tauriel, his expression petrified as if he was waiting for the ceremony to go by as quickly as possible, and with it, this duty call. He left no doubt whose idea this whole visit had been and what he thought about it himself.
Aragorn couldn't and wouldn't expect anything more of him right now. Fretting about this would only have soured what he wouldn't allow anyone to take from him today. It had always been clear to him that this rift between Legolas and him wouldn't heal so quickly.
Arwen and he had only just swallowed that first surprise when they were being confronted with the next. Several horses approached them in a fast trot, among them a very small stallion from Éomer's breed that Gimli was riding, with an astonishingly secure seat, wearing elegant green and velvet clothes, his wild red hair smug, his beard braided. A big grin was on his knobbly face – a sight that had lately become rare.
The group was led by Mithrandir on Shadowfax' mighty, snow-white body. People in the Citadel had been waiting until last for a message telling them if the wizard would find time to come to Gondor for the wedding or not, in vain. In spite of all the incidents in the war and of him becoming obviously a lot more mature: Apparently, nothing could rid him of his notorious love for surprises.
The riders surrounded the bridal couple and stopped their steeds. Now they could recognize the rest of them as well. Faramir, Prince Imrahil, Éomer.
Éowyn, who was wearing specifically crafted armor, less heavy than the others', and was also allowed to sport her shieldmaiden gear for the first time since the end of the war; she was visibly happy and proud about it, wearing her chin high.
Next to her, there were Elrond's twin sons Elrohir and Elladan who had stood by Aragorn's side in battles for many long years. As so often, they could hardly be told apart, with identical ruby, festive robes, and the same pointed, sharp features their father was being famous for. Their contribution to this little parade made Aragorn especially happy. He didn't take it for granted that the three of them had indeed come to Gondor together for this day and had left the safety of a valley still threatened by the odd orc attack in the hands of substitutes.
In fact, right now, the only thing missing to complete the memory of the steadfast Fellowship of the Ring was the stocky silhouettes of the hobbits who had returned to the Shire last year. A thought that hurt but couldn't overshadow the feeling of attachment to close friends.
"The personal guard of His and Her Majesty are honored to have the pleasure of escorting the royal couple to the Citadel." The riders drew their weapons and raised them in a moment of deference.
Aragorn raised an eyebrow high at that hint of drama but couldn't bite back a broad smile. "Though every single guard of this city is already ensuring our safety today, my heart is delighted to know that the blades of the Companions who went to war by my side or who supported us on our way, will also assist us. No one will make it past the peoples who once helped overthrow the Dark Lord. Lead the way, wizard."
As expected, it was a long way up, but the time passed fast enough, with enough to discover that made the little company laugh again and again. That the guards didn't have to report some danger from anywhere even once eased their mind further.
The folk had started to have a few small celebrations of their own. When the women weren't busy throwing petals on the road or the bridal couple, they were singing more cheerfully than they had ever since the coronation. Children were running alongside the horses and handed Arwen flowers so that she had soon gathered a huge bouquet. The whole city was glowing with colors from garlands and flags.
Upon arrival at the White Tower, at last, the companions parted the crowd there as well and flanked the path to the bottom of the stairs.
Once Aragorn had helped Arwen get down from her horse, she waved a little girl close and gave her the flowers with a short kiss to her forehead. It was one of the children who had almost died during the war and that Aragorn had treated in the Houses of Healing more than once after their return from their journey to the west. Sometimes, it still seemed like a miracle to Arwen that she now could look into this girl's rosy face and see only excitement and joy instead of fear and pain.
By now, it had indeed almost turned dark. In the shine of countless torches in the yard, Arwen could see a playful glistening in Aragorn's eyes as they strode up the stairs together.
They were being expected at the top. Arwen hadn't even had time yet to even say hello to her father since he'd arrived, yet she only lowered her head in respect now and started to curtsy.
But Elrond stopped her immediately, tenderly putting his hand on her shoulder. "You no longer need to bow to anyone, my daughter. From now on you shall be regarded among Men, too, with the dignity that your descent, your courage, and your pride have always granted you."
When Elrond turned to Aragorn, it became uncomfortably quiet for a moment. The contents of more than one furious letter that had arrived at the Citadel after Arwen's kidnapping, wasn't forgotten. But then father and foster son started to smile almost at the same moment; Elrond patted Aragorn's shoulder respectfully as well.
"Your laughter has been silenced for far too long, Estel. I hereby assign you the duty of keeping it alive forever," Elrond admonished Arwen with a wink. His only daughter's decision to give up on living in Valinor together with the rest of her kin, only for this man, was still almost unbearable for him. The grief of losing her would accompany him to the Undying Lands himself soon. It had carved wrinkles even deeper than the others into a face matured by the millennia and made the few grey strands in his black hair, so unusual for an elf, stand out more clearly than ever.
But on this day, Elrond didn't let this heavy burden on his shoulders show. Arwen's happiness meant more to him than his own pain, and he had long let her go.
"I will not allow it to vanish ever again," she nodded, blinking away tears of happiness that didn't disturb her this time. On such a day, a little too much emotionality was legit.
"Your grandmother sent a letter for you my way." Elrond pulled out an envelope plastered with tiny blossoms from a pocket of his white robe.
Choking up again, Arwen broke the golden seal. The fine-lined Sindarin words had her reach for Aragorn's arm and grab the pendant between her collarbones.
‚Nauriel,
please forgive me for being unable to be with you in these beautiful hours. Fortunately, I don't need to, to know about the light shining in Elessar's eyes right now for it was you who brought it out in him for the first time when you pledged yourself to each other in my realm back then. I am happy that this glow will now light your heart for the rest of your life. The blessing of Lórien is with you. On that evening in Imladris when I gave you your necklace, I have been allowed a glimpse of today's events, and I am sending prayers to the Valar that the other images that they showed me in these hours, of a healthy young boy with Elessar's eyes in your arms, will soon become reality as well. May a star always shine on your bond.
Namárië, Galadriel'
Arwen thought she could almost hear her grandmother's amused deep laughter in the distance. Unbelieving, she gave the letter to Aragorn who shook his head in surprise as well.
Mithrandir behind them interrupted the scene by clearing his throat discreetly. "With the friendly permission of Lord Elrond, I will perform the ceremony. As I have already put the crown on King Elessar's head, I want to provide him with the wife by his side as well." He stroked his long beard with a smile. "That's the only reason I had Shadowfax run so fast so that we would make it in time."
He braced himself on his staff a little and winked at the bridal couple. "Come on, a wedding is waiting for you. The stars won't shine so brightly all night."
The nervousness torturing Arwen so far had only been a fragment of what she was feeling when she was finally standing opposite Aragorn under the opened part of the canopy and their closest friends had gathered in a circle around them.
Mithrandir's extensive speech was quickly wrecking her nerves. He was talking about the future of Men and the new Age that King Elessar would soon lead them all into. He emphasized the strength that Men had defied the darkness with and that it was this strength that would always defeat the shadow, should it ever return. All of these explanations were correct, and people did need to hear them again and again, to be able to process the bad incidents in the war better, but on this evening, Arwen's own little piece of happiness was just slightly more important to her than the world's.
It was only quite some time later that the wizard lovingly took Arwen's shoulder and leaned closer to her to whisper something in her ear. "Forgive me, my dear. I honestly tried to be brief." He smiled at her encouragingly before taking Aragorn's right hand and putting hers in it.
From that moment on, Arwen didn't notice much of what was going on around her anymore. Her eyes had found Aragorn's, and she refused to look away for even a second. She beamed at her betrothed through every second until she could feel soft fabric grazing her wrist – the bright blue ribbon that she had personally embroidered with many symbols and wishes in the last few days.
Mithrandir wrapped it around both her and Aragorn's hand in loose loops, first murmuring an elvish blessing, then a mannish. In the end, he signaled them to let go of each other slowly which drew the loops tight. "The knot is now tied. Your hearts are bound to each other inseparably." Mithrandir took them both by the shoulder.
"Congratulations! The next step is no longer my job. The people need a Queen. I think your wife expects a kiss before that though," he murmured at Aragorn, laughing quietly.
While everyone was waiting for this important gesture in anxious silence, Aragorn eyed Arwen with the same thoughtfulness for a moment that he mastered his daily duties with. As if all of this had been such a duty as well. And one that he might possibly not even be able to fulfill no less, not the way he should, if Lady Galadriel's vision wouldn't come true after all … Maybe it was only now that he really realized that nothing but problems was waiting for him with her as his wife. Either the problems from enemies of the Elves and from Stewardaides or because he might have to let his bloodline end …
Then Aragorn tenderly put his hand on Arwen's cheek. When she looked up, still hesitating, that empty expression was already gone again. Now there was nothing but unconditional love in his eyes. While he would never forget how hard the times were that they were facing without a doubt, with her by his side, he wanted to get through them. "So leave your former life behind now, daughter of Elrond, Nauriel, fire, and Evenstar of this world. Henceforth your place will be in Gondor, by my side, and you will be forever under my protection. You'll be in my heart as long as I live and beyond."
"And you will be in mine, Elessar, until this world ends and beyond." Overwhelmed with relief and feeling guilty about actually doubting him for a far too long moment, she closed her eyes.
Only when she opened them again, Aragorn lowered his head and put his lips on hers.
The guests cheered; many people sounded relieved because the ceremony had taken place undisturbed. Aragorn and Arwen hadn't been the only ones who had fretted until last.
They would probably all have loved to run to them at once, to congratulate, but they would have to be patient. The second part of the festivities would be just as much of importance.
Aragorn nodded at Faramir. Though the crisis in North Ithilien was causing disagreements between the two of them as well, on a day like this, none of that mattered; for that, the friendship between them was just too big.
The Steward came to stand beside him with a solemn expression and held out a bright pillow littered with crystals that the tiara of the Queen lay on.
The jewel's similarity to Aragorn's crown was plain to see. The band was only half as broad though; fewer jewels adorned the tips. A blue crystal had been set in the image of the White Tree above the forehead part that was glistening in the light of stars.
"Lady of Ithilien, Princess of Eryn Lasgalen." If Aragorn knew about the conversation between Éowyn and Tarisilya earlier, his friendly wave towards them didn't show it.
And yet it might not seem like a pure chance to people involved that one of the persons that the King had chosen to spread a silver embroidered cloth between his wife and him, was the woman who according to certain rumors had the hardest time grinning and bearing all of this tonight. It was only a quick, honorable task that was supposed to express respect and definitely not devotion; still, Éowyn's expression was suspiciously empty. Her eyes were everywhere but on Arwen or, even worse, the King.
Only when she stepped back into the circle and Tarisilya took her lower arm for a moment, her posture relaxed a little. She looked at Faramir ever until he smiled at her, and now she could do so again as well.
"Kneel now, beloved wife, to start your new life in humility and respect." Aragorn rested his hand on Arwen's shoulder, not taking his eyes off of her for even a second. "After swearing your oath of love, raise your voice for the people now. Is it your endeavor to honor our realm in times of war and peace and to represent the image of its beauty and strength to the outside world? Is it your faith, to stand up for the people in good and bad days and wear your heart on the outside just like your crown?"
Once Arwen had answered both questions with a loud yes, Aragorn reached for the tiara and lowered it on her head, not without caressing her forehead. "Henceforth you shall be known as the Queen of the united Reunited Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor. May your voice, your smile, and your deeds fill people's hearts with just as much love and joy as you're giving me every day. Rise."
When Arwen came to stand beside her husband with a shy smile, more cheers broke loose, even more boisterous than earlier. For a few minutes, no one could understand a word.
Splendid fireworks exploded above the Citadel, in the shape of tangled roses and a crown, for example, that would carry the glad tidings of the wedding and the newly crowned Queen far beyond Minas Tirith. The glistening figures of dancing sparks in the night sky were clearly the wizard's work.
The shadow of a possible attack paled more with every new image. The rebels had apparently realized that there were no gaps in the city's security net this time and kept still.
Aragorn had learned from the debacle at his coronation and not provided anyone with a target today. His shoulders slumped with relief accordingly, now that the tension was gone.
"And here I thought, you renounced that too when you changed your garment." He regarded Mithrandir with an amused look from the side.
Unimpressed, Mithrandir made the last rocket explode high over the White Tower, which let silver sparks rain down on the Citadel.
"Some habits, you don't just get rid of, you should know that best. Come now. I've spent too much time of my life with Hobbits. I got used to their eating customs. My stomach is already longing for the feast."
"You're quite scrawny for a Hobbit though, almost a disgrace for the Halflings."
Aragorn watched his old advisor leave with a grin and then lost himself in staring at Arwen for a moment before he put his arm around her and leaned closer to her. "Come, my Queen. There's a celebration waiting for us."
The pleasant shiver that this fleeting touch on her shoulder triggered already, made Arwen nestle against him immediately. She quickly caressed his cheek with her fingertips. Touches had been rare between them lately, as they had hardly ever been alone. She felt an excited blush creep over her cheeks. Before she could get too tempted to give in to her wish and give Aragorn another kiss, she quickly broke away from him and took his hand. Later that day, they would have more than enough time for the intimacy that they both had already been waiting for so long.