Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot

By The Last Evenstar

A tribute to my reviewers, who number few but inspire me to forge on with my tale! See you at the reception!

Chapter Seven: The Runaway Groom

Arwen breathed in, then out. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't –

"My Lady?" Arwen turned to see Faramir peering hesitantly through the door.

"Oh, hello, Faramir. It is Faramir, isn't it?"

"Yes, my Lady. May I come in?"

Arwen smiled at the man. "Certainly. But do hurry, there's a bit of a crisis afoot."

Faramir grimaced. "I'm afraid I have only bad news, then. Aragorn is missing."

Arwen gasped. "Oh, no! What do you mean, missing?" She thought for a moment. "As in disappeared, vanished? Gone?"

He looked confused. "Yes, my Lady."

Arwen tried to contain her overwhelming stress long enough to piece this together. "He is nowhere? You have looked?"

"I am sure, my Lady. His corridors are sealed and no one answers my knock. He is neither preparing in the chapel nor the banquet hall." He turned to leave. "Have you seen Eowyn?"

She shook her head. "You might try the Hall."

"Thank you, my Lady." Faramir exited swiftly. Arwen sat down and tried to think. SO many things gone wrong! Could it possibly be coincidence, or were greater forces at work?

It has to be the latter, she decided. But who would sabotage my wedding? Who do I know that would have any motive? Is it the warlord? The steward? The wizard? The gardener? A light dawned. My father? But why . . .

Arwen rushed off, determined to find her father and get some answers.

Aragorn opened his eyes. He blinked once, twice, three times, then sat up gingerly. I do believe I'm alive! He looked around, trying to take everything in. He was in his chamber, dressed for the wedding. He tried to remember what happened. Elrond . . . was Elrond here?

He tried the door. The knob slid easily enough, but some magical force kept the door from budging. Groaning, he slumped against the wall, his head in his hand. Chancing to glimpse the sky through a tiny window, he gasped. It looked to be nearly time for the wedding! Forgetting his headache, he ran to the door and began banging frantically. "Let me out! Let me out!"

I'm glad I thought of sound barriers, thought Elrond, as he waited in the outer wall. And things are starting to make sense again. As soon as Frodo throws the Ring in the fire, everything will be all right.

"Elrond!" He turned to see Galadriel, stomping toward him vengefully. "Stop right there!"

"Father!" he cried joyfully. "I knew it was you! That blond maiden couldn't fool me! Now you and I can stop the wedding together, Ada!"

Galadriel surveyed the disheveled elf critically. He had lost all traces of dignified Elrond; she could not begin to imagine what had happened. "Elrond?"

"Yes?" He turned to her with vacant eyes. "I am he. Though I'd rather be Legolas. So much prettier." He went on and on, unconscious of everything around him. "Legolas gets the fans. Legolas gets the girls. And just because I had the Elven pride not to bleach my hair –"

Galadriel groaned shortly. This had gone far enough. Elrond was spoiling his own daughter's wedding day! Probing about in his mind, she began to set things right. Lord Elrond, dignified and noble! Return to the state whence you were before! Looking about, she reached the piece of information that had caused her son-in-law's attack and gasped. That you will forget!

The power of the Elf-Witch surpassed by far a common head injury. In no time at all she left Elrond, dazed, on the outer wall of Minas Tirith. Soon enough he would gather his senses and come inside to restore order and make things right.

Arwen ran down the hall, the train of her dress streaming behind her. As she rounded a corner, it caught it tore with a long, horrible ripping sound.

Arwen gasped. She looked down at her once lovely dress. She rip was long and thorough, it extended from the train all the way up her hip. Near tears, she gathered her skirts about her and raced back to her chambers. Once there, she collapsed on a nearby chaise-lounge and began to sob. Her dress was ruined, the banquet as well, and her groom was missing. What a wedding this is turning out to be! I always thought this day would be perfect. A crystal tear slid down her cheek. The day I pledge my whole self to my love once and for all. But it's nothing short of a disaster!

As the elf lay quietly crying, her grandmother came slowly into the room. "Do not cry, love," she said in the Sindarin tongue, "for hope is not yet forsaken. If a hobbit can manage the journey to Mordor for the sake of jewelry destruction, the Evenstar of the elves can surely marry the man she loves as has been planned."

Arwen looked up. "Oh, Gran!" she cried. "You don't understand! My dress has torn, the food for the banquet has gone missing, and Aragorn is nowhere to be found." A great bell sounded from the tower. "That is the wedding bell! I was supposed to be walking up the aisle this very moment! My father was right, this cannot end in happiness!"

Galadriel looked sharply at the elf, who though wise of years, was in truth a young girl who wanted no more than to share her life with her beloved. "Arwen, I am ashamed! Hope did not fail Samwise and Frodo when they were in the darkest despair on the crest of Mount Doom! Hope did not fail the Gondorian when they held against a siege thought impossible to withhold. And hope did not fail your Estel when he stood face-to-face with the King of those long passed, for in his coming the whole of Middle-Earth was saved. For shame, Arwen, lest you let hope fail you now!"

Four hobbits twitched nervously in a small front pew. The church was packed with guests from all corners of Middle-Earth, but their gathering was no no avail. The groom, it was whispered, had disappeared, and the bride was hiding in her chambers. Pippin was much distressed to see Faramir running about in a panic, crying for Eowyn.

"Has anyone seen the White Lady of Rohan? You!" He advanced on Merry. "You know her well! Did the Lady Eowyn say anything to you of her whereabouts?"

Merry cowered under the man's fierce gaze. "No, Lord Faramir! She said nothing!"

The Steward wrung his hands in despair. "Where is she? Do you think . . . no, I refuse to believe that!"

"Believe what?" Everyone turned to see Arwen, the Lady of Rivendell, emerge dressed in a fresh gown of blue silk. "What would you not believe, Lord Faramir?"

"Forgive me, Lady, it was nothing . . ."

"Tell me."

"Well, er, you . . . you don't think that Eowyn and the King have run off together?"

Arwen gasped, her face flushing. "No! How could you suggest such a thing! Aragorn . . . Aragorn would never . . ."

As Faramir looked on helplessly, Galadriel stepped forth from behind the bride. "Lady Eowyn, at least, did no such thing. I myself saw her just moments ago in the powder room."

Faramir's relief was audible. His look changed once again to concern, however, when he remembered the situation at hand. "What of Aragorn, then?"

Frodo looked at Arwen, and for the first time since they had met she looked small and pale, trembling slightly and searching for words. Gathering her dignity, she turned to address the guests.

"As the present whereabouts of my betrothed are unknown, I regret to inform you that the ceremony with not be taking place as of present." She was trembling, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. "I apologize for your inconvenience, and would offer to treat you to the wedding banquet, but it seems that more than half of the food we needed has vanished."

"I wonder how that could have happened!" Pippin marveled obliviously.

Stay tuned, chicas! For in thy next installment many questions may yet be resolved! Will Elrond remember what he's done and come to the rescue? Will Aragorn escape in time to get married? And most importantly of all, what will we eat at the banquet – providing there is one at all??????