THE JOYS OF A BEARD

by Soledad

Disclaimer: Not mine, all Tolkien's, except the Mary Sue and the weird plot. Sue me, and you'll be given the Sue – pardon the really bad pun.

Rating: R, for angst and... well, consensual, but joyless sex. (No, not truly. It just sounded too good…I would go with a PG here.)

Summary: It is time for our heroine to fulfil the agreement between her heartless father and Elrond. With other words: the betrothal is taking place. Oh, but it is not a joyous hour for the fair maiden!

Author's note: According to Tolkien, when two Elves are betrothed and… erm… bodily united, that should bind their souls (fëar) together for eternity. But we cannot follow such cruel rules when the siren song of true love calls to our heroine, now can we?

And to answer a question: no, I have absolutely no idea how someone could shiver ''delicately''. It's just one of those things that sounds pretty and make no sense at all. You will find many more such expressions here.

Dedication: This one is for Mike, who made my day when I needed it most.

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''If the Elves knew the joys of a beard, no dwarf would be safe.'' – Legolas, in ''A Diamond Between Wood and Stone'', the most poetic Legolas/Gimli story I've ever read. Written by Pythoness, may the Valar bless her.

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CHAPTER 4: TIES THAT BIND NOT

Later in the afternoon of the Council Frodo was strolling in the woods with his friends. Merry and Faramond(1) were indignant when they heard that Sam crept into the second session, and been chosen as Frodo's companion.

''Not the only one!'' said Merry. ''I have come so far and I am not going to be left behind now. Someone with intelligence ought to be in the party.''

''I do not see that your inclusion will help much in that way'', said Faramond. ''But, of course, you must go, and I must too. We hobbits must stick together. We seem to have become mighty important these days. It would be a bit of an eye-opener for the people back in the Shire!''

''I doubt it!'' said Frodo. ''Hardly any of them would believe a word of it. I wish I was one of them, back in Hobbiton. Anyone who wants can have all my importance.''

''Quite accidental! Quite accidental, as I keep on telling you'', said a voice behind them. They turned to see Gandalf hurrying round a bend in the path. ''Hobbit voices carry a long way'', he said. ''All right in Rivendell (or I hope so); but I should not discuss matters so loud outside the house. Your importance is accidental, Frodo – by which I mean, someone else might have been chosen and done as well – but it is real. No one else can have it now. So be careful – you cannot be too careful!(2) As for you two, if I let you come, you will have to do just what your are told. And I shall make other arrangements for the supply of intelligence.''

''Ah, now we know who really is important'', laughed Merry. ''Gandalf is never in doubt about that, and does not let anyone else doubt it. So you are making all the arrangements already, are you?''

''Of course!'' said Gandalf. ''But if you hobbits wish to stick together I shall raise no objection. You two and Sam can go – if you are really willing. Trotter would also be useful(3) – he has journeyed South before. Boromir may well join the company, since your road leads through his own land. That will be about as large a party as will be at all safe.''

'Who is to be the brains of the party?'' asked Frodo. ''Trotter, I suppose. Boromir is only one of the Big Folk and they are not as wise as hobbits – well, Trotter surely is, but he has spent a long time watching us(4).''

''Boromir has more than strength and valour'', answered Gandalf. ''He comes of an ancient race that the people of the Shire have not seen, at least not since days that they have forgotten. And Trotter has learned many things in his wanderings that are not known in the Shire. They both know something of the road: but more than that will be needed. I wish we could ask the Princess to accompany you. That would be very helpful. But since that is not possible, I think I shall have to come with you.''

So great was the delight of the hobbits at this announcement that Gandalf took off his hat and bowed. ''I am used to taking care of hobbits'', he said, ''when they wait for me and do not run off on their own. But I only said: I think I shall have to come. It may only be for part of the way. We have not made any definite plans yet. Very likely we shall not be able to make any.''

''How soon do you think we shall start?'' asked Frodo.

''I do not know. It depends on what news we get. Scouts will have to go out and find out what they can – especially about the Black Riders.''

''I thought they were all destroyed in the flood!'' said Merry.

''You cannot destroy the Ringwraiths so easily'', said Gandalf. ''The power of their master is in them, and they stand or fall by him. They were unhorsed, and unmasked, and will be less dangerous for a while; yet it would be well to find out if we can what they are doing. In time they will get new steeds and fresh disguise. But for the present you should put all troubles out of your thoughts, if you can.''

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The hobbits did not find this easy to do. They continued to think and talk mainly of the journey and the perils ahead of them. Yet such was the virtue of the land of Elrond that in all their thoughts there came no shadow of fear. Hope and courage grew in their hearts, and strength in their bodies. In every meal, and in every word and song they found delight. The very breathing of the air became a joy no less sweet because the time of their stay was short.

The days slipped by, though autumn was fast waning, and each morning dawned bright and fair. But slowly the golden light grew silver, and the leaves fell from the trees. The winds blew cold from the Misty Mountains in the East. The Hunter's Moon grew round in the evening sky, putting to fight the lesser stars, and glittering in the falls and the pools of the River – and so the day finally came, when the betrothal of the Princess Adurathien(5) and Erestor Half-Elven was appointed to take place. The maidens that escorted her from Mirkwood to Rivendell had been very busy for days already, to prepare everything for the great event, for an alliance between the two Elvish realms was of great importance for all of them, more so considering the ages-old enmity between the Elven-king of the Wood and the Lord of the Valley, the former being the main reason for which(6).

The brave young Princess was aware of the fact that she was serving as a bridge of peace, crossing a bottomless stream of long centuries filled with hatred, so she accepted her fate with quiet dignity as it was the duty of all children of a royal House, though she loved Erestor not, and his coldness filled her gentle heart with silent dread. She could feel that the chief councillor had no love for her either, but there was lust in those cold, grey eyes when they turned to her, and a strong desire for possession, and she knew he would never let her go.

One could back off from a betrothal, as long as the wedding itself had not yet been celebrated, uniting the partners in their hröar and fëar, and the Princess had no doubt that Erestor would insist to complete their bond of marriage, whether she wanted it or not. She was greatly desired as a possible mate by all royal Houses(7); not for her flawless beauty and rare wisdom alone, but for as a priestress of Yavanna(8), she had powers over the soil, the waters and all living things, that only a woodland maiden of royal blood could possess. Her father had chosen Erestor, for Elrond's realm was the closest and therefore the most promising ally, and she had no other choice than to obey. One did not resist the wishes of Thranduil, the mighty Elven-king of Mirkwood. Even less so his own children.

Her maidens (more like my jailers, she thought, for they were sent with her by her father in order to watch over her every move came to dress her in a gown of heavy, forest-green velvet and girdled it with a golden chain wrought in the shape of small, interwoven leaves. Then they combed and braided her long, ebony hair 'til it was shining with a hidden gleam and braided it in the elaborate fashion that suited a future lady of the High-Elves and adorned the interwoven braids with long, white pearl strings slung around them.

When they were done, a servant of Elrond's house came, carrying the betrothal present of the Lord of the Valley: a delicately-woven silver circlet that sparkled upon her dark braids like the moonlight upon the night sky. And so she was led to the Hall of Fire, where the ceremony was about to take place.

All the visiting dignitaries were present, even the Dwarves, and the bright eyes of the Princess became clouded with secret yearning when she caught a look at the short, sturdy form of Gimli son of Glóin, clad in a shining mail shirt and in a tunic of dark red brocade, and on a golden chain, there were several coloured gems around his strong neck. His magnificent beard, braided with gold-coloured cords, gleamed in the firelight like a shining beacon of strength and dignity.

Then her eyes found her husband-to-be and her heart froze. Erestor, standing with Legolas and talking to him in a friendly enough manner, looked kingly in his long, richly embroidered robe of royal blue(9), but the hungry looks he gave her made her feel more vulnerable than she had ever felt in her life. Those were the looks of a Giant Spider before it stung its victim to make it immobile and unable to resist.

The Lord Elrond entered now, and with him came other Elf-Lords of the Valley. Since Elrond represented Erestor's family, the ceremony was led by Glorfindel, and the ancient Elf proved to every one that he was skilled in organizing great feasts. Legolas, representing their father, came to his sister's side, just as Elrond joined Erestor. The minstrels of the valley sang ancient hymns to the honour of the rare event; then the traditional words were spoken and the silver rings of betrothal exchanged.

That thin circlet of engagement felt like heavy chains on Adurathien's slender hand. Now she was given into never-ending slavery for the good of her people. She would have to keep her oath, given on this evening, even if her heart would break with pain – or her father would disown her and she would have to become an outcast among her own people.

A great feast was held after that in the Great Hall of the house, excellent food and delicious wine was served, and the guests sang and laughed and jested – some of those jests made the Princess blush and avert her eyes in silent disapproval – til it came to the final toast. Elrond raised his chalice and praised the new alliance between their two realms and wished the new couple happiness and luck. Then he broke the circle and everyone filed out in pairs or groups – or, in the case of the hobbits, remained in the feasting hall to take care of some excellent leftovers.

'''Tis time that we retire to our bedchamber, my Lady'', Erestor murmured huskily, laying a possessive arm around the softly curved hips of the Princess. ''I wish us to become as one tonight, so that no-one or naught can ever part us again.''

Adurathien suppressed a sigh. According to the custom of her people, she could not refuse her betrothed after the rings had been exchanged(10). And her father would never allow her to break her oath anyway.

''I yield to your wish, my Lord'', she replied almost soundlessly, her voice trembling as Erestor led her to the western wing of the house, where proper rooms were selected for them, not for this night only, but for the rest of their immortal lives.

And while her betrothed busied himself to break the seal of her as-yet untouched body, the Princess closed her eyes tightly, in order to suppress the bitter tears that were welling up behind her burning lids, dreaming about the mighty hammer of a certain Dwarf that, no doubt, would have done the work with much greater efficiency. She shut her heart and her mind completely away, for this was the only way to resist a soul-bond to be forged between her and Erestor(11), and reached out with her soundless inner sighs towards the one she was never to be united with.

TBC

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End notes:

(1) No, I am not the one who changes their names constantly. And their numbers. It has been Tolkien. Of course, I could have decided to go with the same names through the whole story, but why should I bother? They are just the best friends of the Ring-bearer, not the really important characters in this epic tale.g

(2) Is it just me, or does Gandalf really babble like a fool? I have not changed a word in this speech, I swear!

(3) This remark belongs to an earlier draft where Trotter still was a hobbit. I used it because it is so wonderfully dismissive.

(4) The second half of the sentence was added in order to avoid any misunderstandings. Trotter is not a hobbit in this tale.

(5) ''Little Elf-Slut'', this time.

(6) See: Evil Thranduil cliché, once more. There are many more coming.

(7) Yes, yes, we know all those hidden or forgotten Elven kingdoms Middle-earth was apparently peppered with. One wonders how Sauron could ever have a chance against so many Elven realms in the Third Age.

(8) Oh, come on, you cannot tell me that you never heard of the Secret Cult of Yavanna! (Hmmm – when I think about it, I have not, either.) About the maidens of the woodland folk dancing under the full Moon and the stars, clad in their ankle-long, shining hair only! Erm… sorry, I am getting distracted from my plot here.

(9) Just because for me this is the colour that matches forest green the least.

(10) Gee, of course she could. But that would not be this tragic, right?

(11) Which is complete nonsense, of course, but oh, it sounds so wonderfully bombastic!