Just out of curiosity: what do you think about this being moved to the lord of the Rings section?
Chapter 11 - Interlude: It is to be all made of sighs and tears… "If thou remember'st not the slightest follyThat ever did love make thee run into,
Thou hast not lov'd." Shakespeare, As you like it.
Minas Tirith, Gondor, May 21st of 3019.
"I will bind myself to you," she spoke slowly, seeking his eyes to see his reaction. His eyes were warm. "If you tell me how."
Legolas smiled openly. He then explained to her the vows to be exchanged, and what should happen next –he really looks cute when he blushes – so that they would by mutual agreement be bound together as husband and wife.
They were sitting on the grass, playing with each other's fingers while they talked of what would be expected of their union. All in all, it wasn't the cold conversation one might think. The duties were very much things she already had to deal about, with the Ministry of magic, the Senate of Antar, the Royal Board and Aryan. Just a few different things, really.
Princess of Mirkwood. Now that would take some time getting used to. Going from liberal democracy to absolutist monarchy could be a bit of a problem.
" Repeat with me. I, Arien, of my free will accept thee, Legolas..." he whispered in her ear. It probably was the most erotic thing he ever dared to do. And damn him if it was not erotic.
"Here?" she squeaked. She squeaked, for pity's sake! Legolas chuckled softly, obviously enjoying the sight of her so flustered.
'I'm the one who's been married before, blond boy. No idea why you're so full of yourself.'
"Why not? It's the closest to being in a wood we will be."
"Well, " she said with a hint of irritation in her voice and the slightest blush on her cheeks, "while I can agree of exchanging our vows in this garden, I hardly think it would do for us to proceed with the … nuptials … because this is not a closed park. What if Gandalf were passing by and saw us?"
Legolas' mouth itched upwards; she could tell he was controlling his laughter. Whether it was at the mental image or at her worry Arien did not wish to find out.
"What does the lady suggest, then?" he conceded diplomatically. Oh well. Her next couple of millennia would certainly be interesting, she could tell.
"There are loads of abandoned houses in Minas Tirith, milord," she responded with the same mock politeness he had used.
"We cannot impose using the someone else's house!" Legolas objected, but his voice held something that wasn't quite condemning. It was rather close to amusement, really.
"What we cannot, Legolas, is to be caught in a … err… intimate, moment by a person passing by!"
He seemed to consider the plan for a while. Arien decided to press her luck a bit further- but Legolas spoke first.
"We could see Faramir and ask him…"
"NO WAY!"
"Ask him permission to make use of one of the edifices. We could make it our place for the time being."
Arien was now beet red. She didn't even think she could ever blush like that till now.
"I am not discussing this with Faramir." She stated stubbornly.
"Why wouldn't you?" Legolas inquired, perplexed. It was natural for him that they, under the circumstances and due to their positions, could make such a request to the steward.
"His father just died today, Legolas," Arien answered. "Besides, I think this is a private moment. I don't really want anyone talking about it." She tried to make as if she was shy – when she had never been that shy. In fact, her love life had always been open to discuss with her Ravenclaw classmates – affectionally called eagles by themselves – they always talked about everything.
Legolas gave her a small nod of understanding.
"This is a very big city…" he said, "But you see we are in a very delicate situation if we do get caught?"
Victory.
"Why, Legolas," she smiled and approached him to plant a feather kiss on his cheek. "We will not be caught. One would think we know a thing or two about stealth, wouldn't one?"
He answered with a completely straight face, "Just promise me that if we ever have children, we won't tell them about it."
"I promise."
They walked around the sixth ring alleys, where most of the court had their houses since the seventh was very much separated for the official buildings. Practically everyone was camped in the lower part of the city, to be closer to the battle, including the healers who transferred the House of Healing to a residential street in the first ring.
"Sometimes this place unnerves me to no end. Everything is so… stony," Arien said quietly.
"You miss the trees?" Legolas asked, with the hint of a smile. "We can go back…"
"Don't get smart at me, Legolas. I'm not falling for it."
He got a little bit closer to her and whispered quietly, as to not be overheard by any elf passing by (Not that there were any in sight. They were all probably in the first ring gossiping about the row between Arien and Damon).
"Considering you have agreed to be my wife, I'd say you have fallen."
They chuckled.
After a five minutes walk, the couple reached a neighborhood that was even more deserted than the previous. By the structure of the constructions, those houses belonged to people of influence, but not quite royals. However, the essential thing was that it was abandoned. They strolled leisurely down the street and then climbed the wall in a particularly dark spot of the street. With the light being restricted to the extremely necessary inside the city, all Minas Tirith was immersed in almost utter darkness, so Arien and Legolas were quite sure they would not be caught. Gliding from roof to roof till they reached the chosen house, the prince lowered himself into the backyard first, catching Arien when she jumped.
Their elven senses told them there was nobody in the immediate vicinity, and they entered the house forcing the back door.
When they were finally in the house – they had entered a large kitchen – both finally exploded in laughter.
"You know that thing about never speaking of this to our children?" The blond elf asked when his laughter had subdued enough.
"I already promised, Legolas! I do not think it would be all right if I told my daughter about this… she might get some ideas!" Arien forced out between chuckles.
"I just remembered… maybe we should not tell my father either. He'd be outraged, I guess."
"Can we agree on keeping this between us?" she asked tossing her hair back her shoulders.
"I think that can be managed." He stated with mock seriousness.
Obviously the whole marriage thing had brought out a brighter side of him. But then again, elves get married only once. Except Finwë, and look the mess that his second marriage had caused – an eternally sulking first-marriage son that very nearly destroyed Middle earth with his madness.
"Come," Legolas called, "we're here, we might as well do some exploration."
Arien accepted the hand he offered, and felt herself being gently pulled through some corridors. The house was very nice, heavily furnished, with spacious rooms. It did not even make her feel confined.
"I have this funny feeling," she said when they opened the door to the master suite, "that you're enjoying this much more than what would be acceptable to someone on your position, Your Highness."
"Well, Your Highness," he replied, entering in the chamber. "You'll never know, now will you?"
'You are enjoying this, you sneak!'
The redhead followed him inside and closed the door behind her.
The room was as spacious and well decorated as the rest of the house, although there was much more personality in there. Paintings and tapestries hung on the walls (they should not hung tapestries. Most humans are susceptible accumulated dust), and a door led to what they could see was a dressing room and a bathroom.
Curious, Arien removed the white sheets that protected the furniture from too much dust. The furnishings were made of dark wood, with velvet stuffing. It did not look abandoned for long and it made sense, because it was not a month ago that the civilians had been taken off the city.
And it was also very, very dark. The streets had no lamps lit and the Mordor spell blocked all light from the moon and the stars. She lit a lamp after being sure the curtains were drawn.
"It will be easier to see our path this way." She said, turning to see her husband-to-be.
What, of course, turned out to be a mistake. Or not.
Legolas stood in his full six feet four height, leaning against the door with deceiving laziness. Now that there was some light in the room, Arien could see his features and most of all, his eyes.
Oh, there was so much in those eyes. Amusement, wonder, a hint of disorientation and hunger. He crossed the room to where she stood, feeling her face with the tips of his fingers, paying special attention to her lips, his gaze never faltering from her eyes. Then he spoke, utterly serious:
"I, Legolas, of my free will accept thee, Arien, as my rightful wife and call upon Manwë to witness my vows of being ever caring, faithful and respectful of thee. May Eru bind our souls forever, and bless our union and the fruits that may come of it."
His voice was deeper than normal, and a bit husky. It reminded Arien why exactly she was embarking in such a crazy thing for starters.
"I, Arien, of my free will accept thee, Legolas, as my rightful husband and call upon Varda to witness my vows of being ever caring, faithful and respectful of thee. May Eru bind our souls forever, and bless our union and the fruits that may come of it."
They exchanged their vows in awe, surprised that they were actually doing it. And when their lips met together, there was no holding back from any part. They kissed exploringly, and at length letting the desire build up as they continued.
"No." Arien gasped when the need for oxygen became an issue. Her husband sure was a fast learner.
"What is the matter, Arien?" Legolas asked, absolutely clueless. She had agreed with this not even a couple of hours ago. And Legolas might be inexperienced, but he was not daft –he knew when a lady was attracted to him. Arien had been stealing glances in his direction since they met. Why was she backing down now?
She smiled at him. "A little tradition I forgot about. I'll be right back." She then walked in the direction of the dressing room.
"What is this tradition?" Legolas asked as she retreated. His lips still tingled from their kiss, and it was just the kissing.
"Well, if you must know milord, the bride is supposed to prepare herself for her lord."
'Now what on Middle Earth is Arien about? Prepare herself? What is there to prepare?' Legolas thought.
Arien closed the door to the dressing chamber and leaned back on it. She needed some time to think. She would have instants to make her moves so nobody would have any reason to suspect of her. After a couple of minutes, she had drawled what she thought would be a reasonable plan and focused on the next gap in her plot. And if the plan was downright risky and crazy, it was very much in character with her, wasn't it?
Now Arien had to decide whether elven women would have a hymen or not. She could not for the life of her, remember if she had bled in her first time but she did remember it had been somewhat painful at first. It had been with Ewan, a sixth year slytherin friend of hers. She had always had a weak spot for slytherins.
The Ravenclaw decided to cast a spell to recreate hers just in case – it was a rather unknown spell, kept in surprising secrecy by females (who were known for not being the tightest of fellowships), taught not by teachers in any school but for girlfriends, in whispers and under oaths of secrecy.
One would think they'd not give that much importance to virginity in the twenty-first century. But for those girls who actually needed the spell, it was taught, no questions asked. And no men would ever know. It was one of the Mysteries.
"Virgus"Thank Ceres for the Mysteries.
Arien hastily undid her braids and removed her dressrobe and shoes, staying only in her chemise. She'd always thought it sexy for a woman to wear clothes so androgen, as in borrow a lover's shirt and walking around his house wearing it. A quick glance at the mirror assured her that she was looking good.
When she walked into the bedroom again, Legolas was sitting in an armchair, waiting.
When his wife returned to the room – something that she insisted upon, he might add, although Legolas had to concede she had had a valid point on not wishing to be surprised by any passerby – his breath caught on his throat. The only coherent thought he had was, wow.
She walked to him barefooted, with her auburn hair lose and wearing only her chemise. Legolas made a mental note to try to convince Arien to let him undress her next time. If they lived to have a next time. But he'd make sure to survive every day of the battle just to see that. And now that he was alone with his wife, and they were about to consummate bodily union and seal their bond, he nearly panicked.
'I really should have asked father more about this.'
Thranduil, being the wise elf he was, had provided Legolas with some inkling to what would happen between husband and wife. It wouldn't do for the Prince of Mirkwood to grow up thinking people were wed when they kissed after all (although he had believed that when he was fifteen or twenty years old).
Legolas rose in one fluid motion before he even registered the action.
His wife was two inches shorter than he was, and that was a very tall she-elf indeed. He felt a tentative hand touching his chest and a hot breath in his neck.
"Now, where were we?"
"I do believe," Legolas groaned, "that we were here." And with that he seared her lips in a kiss unlike any of the formers. He assaulted her mouth, probing and tasting and taking as much as he could, with the hunger of a man dying of thirst in the desert who suddenly found a bottle of water. He was happily surprised to find that she responded in kind.
Hands gripped his neck, forcing the kiss even deeper, while she felt her pressing herself against him in a tight hug that banished all rationality left from his mind. Legolas held her waist because the embrace felt so good, and because for some stupid reason he thought she might fall if he did not, and the loss of contact was something he could not endure now. She moaned contently against his mouth, so he brilliantly concluded he'd done the right thing.
'It is so hard after all.'
Slowly, timidly, the hands began to move up her back, and she sighed. Legolas felt a very unknown ache in his lower body that tingled most wonderfully when their embrace caused friction with the said lower body.
His wife stepped back, trying to open his tunic with trembling fingers.
"Let me," he offered, and unbuttoned the top buttons so to pull the tunic off. His hands were trembling also. Arien, however, had her own agenda and hurriedly pulled off his undershirt as well, leaving him half naked. Her hands drew messy patterns on his chest and the feeling was just divine. There was something building up in him, a hunger, and a desire for something he did not yet quite know but had a general picture from those far away conversations with his father.
Only when they had talked, it had seemed so… mechanic. Abstract. The feeling in his heart and lower abdomen was very, very real.
He realized that there was too much clothing between them. Slowly he removed the chemise and stared amazed at the strange undergarments she wore. Legolas could not recognize the fabric- not that it really mattered – but they were extremely alluring on her. They revealed, without revealing.
Arien grasped his left hand and kissed every finger lazily, lingering those full lips on his fingertips, and then put it over her right breast, with a light encouraging squeeze.
"Lay your hands on me, Legolas." Barely a whisper but sounded like thunderstorm in his ears.
He pulled her to him roughly, carrying her to the bed and quickly covering her body with his.
Sweet Eru, he thought that it could not possibly get any better. How wrong he was.
He proceeded with his exploration, while she proceeded with hers, both guiding themselves by the moans and sighs and cries the other made. They kissed and touched each other's every inch of skin, and Legolas' heart would surely explode if he did not do anything soon. But what? He was all instinct now, letting her sounds tell him when he pleasured her.
"Legolas, please!" she begged, her hands flying to the waistband of his trousers, trying to free him from the offensive clothes. He kneeled back on his heels to undo the ties while she removed the exotic undergarments. The elf threw the breeches off somewhere in the room and covered her body with his again. Her legs immediately hooked around his waist, while he sucked the point where her shoulder met her neck, making her cry. He'd never tire of hearing that.
Arien's face had something close to desperation, and he did not doubt his were alike. His hand went down to guide him into hers, and in the moment he was about to do it, their gazes locked.
Then he joined his wife, and was surprised when she uttered a groan that was clearly not borne from pleasure. Panic swept him when he thought he had hurt her horribly.
Arien drew a few deep breaths, and used her legs to urge him to continue. But Legolas dared not. He would hurt her!
"It is all right, love," she reassured him, her eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room. "Do not stop."
"I hurt you," he said.
"Do not worry over that," her hands were traveling up and down his body again, making thinking a Very Difficult Thing. "Sometimes happens." She kissed the tip of his nose. It was a very touching kiss, and awfully funny too. Legolas supposed her guidance on that should be better than his, as he had no idea of how it could be for the lady, except that he was supposed to be attentive and pleasure her as well as himself. So he pumped again, very slowly, testing her.
She moaned, but definitely out of pleasure. The tension became unbearable, and he could only continue to move, leaving kisses in her neck and mouth, and almost lost control (control? What control?) When she licked the contours of his ear, biting his earlobe softly. Her breathing became frantic and her moans turned into cries as her muscles clenched him. Arien dug her nails on his back and bit his shoulder with a vengeance.
Which Legolas actually did not mind, because he was seeing stars exploding in his head. For a moment, the whole universe narrowed down to him and Arien, and he felt IT. An overwhelming wave of pleasure engulfing him, and everything seemed so bright and intense, and Legolas could sense her soul within him.
He collapsed over her, burying his head on her shoulder and wondering why in the name of Elbereth he had not done this sooner. She surely smelled wonderfully.
Arien kissed his forehead and played with his hair. When he finally rolled to her side, keeping one possessive arm on her waist, their gazes met again.
"Ten'oio, mel nîn." He whispered, planting a light kiss on her cheek.
"Ten'oio, Legolas."
He was almost drowsing to sleep when he felt a feathery kiss on his chest. Looking down he saw his wife leaving a trail of wet kisses across his torso, and felt himself fully aroused again. 'She is the epitome of adventure,' he thought, 'and that may be why I'm drawn to her.' When she raised her head there was an unmistakable twinkle of mischief in her eyes, and she stretched luxuriously as a cat on top of him.
By the Valar, that woman would be the death of him.
"Practice makes perfect," she said teasingly.
"Really?" he retorted with one arched eyebrow. Which was futile, because she could feel his reaction pressed against her stomach.
"Really." She breathed on his ear. On their own volition his hands flew to grip her hips, hard.
"Come here," he said with a dangerously low voice.
They actually managed to grasp a little nap before dawn, but when the new day came the newlyweds had to part. Legolas went down to the House of healing to check on Aragorn and Pippin whilst Arien had to go to her tent to change and meet the other captains. They had agreed to keep that a secret between themselves till the war was over, or at least until the antarians calmed down a bit.
When Arien was approaching her tent she saw herself leaving it furiously discussing with Selton, Pyrrhus, Lavignia and Madrin. Her plan had been a success then.
Swift as a shadow and making very good use of a muffling charm (which would make her nearly impossible to be spotted) Arien sneaked back into her tent, thanking god for the overall darkness of the place. Once inside, she apparated straight into her bedroom in Aryan and began to make her arrangements.
With unicorn horn powder she made a Time-Turner and turned a few hours back in time. Now she could go back to Minas Tirith and truthfully claim she had been all that time in her tent, sleeping. Everybody would believe it.
But in truth, she was plotting how on God's green Middle Earth she would stay with her husband.
Husband. Good god, she was Married. It was crazy!
But it was deliciously crazy.
..::(~'*'~)::..::(~'*'~)::..::(~'*'~)::..::(~'*'~)::..::(~'*'~)::..::(~'*'~)::.
A.N: if you came this far, could you please tell me what you think of the story?
Concerning the title –I was looking for a quote or song that fit into the… err… spirit, of this chapter, and got this two quotes from As you like it. The one I used in the title is a bit of the quote in question:
"Phebe: Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love.
Silvius: It is to be all made of sighs and tears…
It is to be all made of faith and service…
It is to be all made of fantasy,
All made of passion, and all made of wishes;
All adoration, duty, and observance;
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience;
All purity, all trial, all obeisance."
Concerning the vows-
"I, Legolas, of my free will accept thee, Arien, as my rightful wife and call upon Manwë to witness my vows of being ever caring, faithful and respectful of thee. May Eru bind our souls forever, and bless our union and the fruits that may come of it."
I'm just following the little information about elven marriage we have – that the bridegroom (or his family, if they did a wedding ceremony) called Manwë as witness and the bride (likewise, or her family, etc.) Varda, and Both called Eru. I added the caring, faithful and respectful bit of my own volition. The joining of bodies would be the elven equivalent to our 'and now I declare you husband and wife.', or the signing of the papers. Or both;
Ceres, Mysteries – reference to the Greek mysteries of Ceres and Persephone. It had to do with death and rebirth, like the seasons, and only the initiated knew them. It was said they would not suffer in darkness in the afterlife like the non-initiated. It is not too much to make the connection to femininity, season of the year, moon cycle, sexuality, feminine power, birth, death and rebirth. It's in most the psychology books that use Greek myths as their archetypes. Hey, even Muggles could fool their spouses into believing they were still virgins. It wouldn't be absolutely unreal to assume witches had something of the sort. Especially when the rites of Avalon crashed frontally with the Christian philosophy. Probably some priestesses of Avalon had to retort to that trick, at any point.
Arien obviously grasped the act of love was of utmost importance and got paranoid Legolas might somehow find out she hadn't been a virgin, hence the spell. Sneaky, sneaky witch.
Translations
Ten'oio – This I saw in a wickedly good fanfiction 'Destiny's Ring' it's here at FF.Net and I highly encourage you to read it. Can't put my hand on the veracity of the meaning, but judging from the amount of elvish phrases the author uses, it may be true. It seemed like a hell of a lot of research to me.
Mel nîn This means my love. There are many variations of this endearment on the fandom – we have melanin, melamin, mela nin, and so on. Legolas was being his charming, sensitive self. (sighs)