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Mithmír dropped her hairbrush and swore loudly. She bent carefully at the knee to retrieve it from the floor. From his seat on the bed, Legolas chuckled.
'I don't see you helping!' Shouted Mithmír in annoyance, waving the brush at him violently.
'Language like that doesn't suit you, Mithmír Silfëa,' he scolded. 'You're a lady of high rank, remember?'
'You wouldn't guess it to look at me; and I certainly don't feel like it,' she replied in exasperation; beginning to brush her hair again. 'I don't think the Elves of Ithilien will be happy to have an uncivilized shield-maiden like myself as the wife of their prince – king, should I say – and so their queen. They'll be shocked to see I don't dance well; I don't sing; I only play the flute – and badly at that; I'm not exactly the most beautiful thing you've ever seen; I'm –'
Legolas stood up and pressed a finger to her lips. 'Hush,' he said concernedly, with real pain in his eyes. 'I hate to hear you talk of yourself like that. You're far from uncivilized; you dance with real enthusiasm and life; your singing voice is strong and moving; you play well; and you are the most stunning, alluring, attractive woman I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. I love you, Mithmír, and I won't hear you or anyone else put you down.' He stopped suddenly, seeing a mischievous gleam enter her eye. Seconds later he felt her lips part under his finger, and he expected to hear her say something invariably witty, maybe even sarcastic, but instead a warm, moist tongue flicked out from her mouth and slipped fleetingly across his skin. Her eyes glinted playfully, noting that Legolas' thick lashes blinked rapidly and a red tinge coloured his smooth, ageless skin.
When Legolas' eyes finally opened wide again, he whispered, 'you little wildcat,' with a grin; but his moved his finger away, regretfully. 'You have to get ready, Mithmír. The wedding takes place in just over an hour.' He lay back down on her bed luxuriously, fiddling with the dagger at his belt as he often did when he was thinking.
Mithmír finished her hair soon enough, and looked over herself once again in the full-length mirror. She wore a light blue tunic with silver needlework over grey trousers; as Faramir had told her to not be ridiculous and put on a dress when she didn't really want to wear one. Aragorn had kindly provided her with new, sturdy boots that fitted perfectly. The silver friendship-bracelet was on her wrist as usual, reminding her of far-away companions; and her hair had been painstakingly arranged in an intricate twist.
'You, nín meleth [my love], are more beautiful than even the Evenstar in my eyes,' intoned Legolas softly in her right ear, coming up behind her and nuzzling his head into her neck. 'You shall have to be careful or you will outshine the bride.'
Mithmír chuckled. 'No one surpasses Éowyn in Faramir's eyes, not even his beloved sister,' she said wryly. 'And today she shall be even more radiant than ever. I should know – I have seen her dress, and it's incredible.'
'So what do you have to do for the ceremony?' Asked Legolas with interest; loath to leave for the wedding and have to share his beloved with anyone else. He treasured these times when they were just together, alone; more than she – or anyone else – could ever know or appreciate.
'Just be there for Faramir. I accompany him nearly all the way up the Hall to where Aragorn shall stand to join the bride and groom together. I don't have to say anything special or do anything in particular, apart from that. Faramir just wants me to be there for him. He misses his father and Boromir greatly.'
Legolas nodded gravely. 'Boromir was brave and noble and died the death of a hero. He and Faramir are similar in many ways.'
'And yet different in many more still,' added Mithmír, making for the door. 'So I am to be there for Faramir as his family member – an honour I greatly appreciate.' She looked at Legolas with an odd smile creasing her features. 'Faramir said that if you and I were married by then, you could stand with me as his brother-in-law.' She laughed a little as they walked out of the house. 'It still makes me dizzy to think of you as my future husband. I just can't get my head around it.' She loved at him with love obvious in her dark eyes.
Legolas silently agreed. I cannot be worthy of this marvelous, magnificent creature. 'Mithmír –' he halted her with a hand on her arm – 'before we go to the wedding of Faramir and Éowyn, Mithmír, I ask you again: when shall we be married?'
Mithmír turned to him, standing tall and nearly his height. 'The sooner the better,' she said simply; 'but such things cannot be rushed. You must talk to your parents before we wed, and there are elves I would see in Lothlorien and Imladris also before I become a wife.' She shrugged. 'I wished to marry you this year, but the longer we are delayed here in Minas Tirith the less likely that seems. When Aragorn is happy for us to depart from here, I would follow the hobbits to Imladris first; and then return here, but lingering in Lothlorien on the way. You say you want to visit Fangorn Forest and the Glittering Caves with Gimli; and I know by the way you look when you say it that you want to spend time alone with him and a woman would be a hindrance – however loved she is by you.' Legolas didn't even try to deny it; he knew by her happy grin that she understood that he wanted time alone with his great friend as she did with her own dearest companions; and it did not hurt her. 'It seems to me then that we should part for a while, maybe a month or more, and then meet again in Ithilien, with the Elves who will live there, where we may marry immediately.' She put her ideas forward firmly and clearly as always; and Legolas barely resisted the temptation to kiss away the familiar frown that nestled on her brow when she made a point. 'And if your parents could be there for our wedding, that should be perfect – I would love to meet my mother- and father-in-law. Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir and Éowyn shall definitely come also.'
'Of course,' he said with a gentle smile. 'It seems I shall have to wait much longer for my love than Faramir had to for Éowyn.' He kissed her cheek once, graciously, with the utmost tenderness. 'You are most definitely worth any wait, Mithmír, and I do not regret it. I shall never grudge you time with your friends. We shall have all of eternity together, you and I – and our children.' He could not hide his joy at the prospect of having a family with her, and a light entered his eyes.
She nodded, tight-lipped, and then moved away quickly to the Hall where the wedding was to be. She didn't want Legolas to see her confused face, the uncertainty in her eyes. It was better if he thought she was happy and well and did not worry for her.
I love you, Legolas, more than I love myself or anything else, so why am I afraid to bear your children?
