Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I just play in their world.
Seeing as some of you liked this story, I decided to continue from the perspectives of other characters to give the story different facets. Hope you like.
Mortal weddings ceremonies are quite different from those of the Elves. There is only one cleric officiating. There are no prayers for the couple's love to remain eternal, no choirs singing ancient encantations to incite suppressed passion, no self-written verses shared between two newly joined hearts. It seems more mechanic than desirable. It is odd to me.
An elvish ceremony is indeed at times drawn out, but when you have forever to live, a long ceremony is nothing really. I myself have been witness to elvish weddings lasting days, even weeks. The joining of elves in marriage is nothing to be undertaken lightly. I truly wonder if Aragorn is aware of the exercise in patience to be enforced upon him in two weeks time with our own nuptials. Despite being immersed in the world of the elves since he was a babe, something tells me Estel does not quite understand what is coming his way in marrying the daughter of a high elf lord. My father must feel the same, for his eyes meet mine across the courtyard and we both smile knowingly.
Turning my gaze back to the ceremony, I smile at the happiness I see in Faramir's eyes, and recognize it as the feelings barely contained in my own breast. There is nothing but love in his gaze, and those eyes shining so brightly on Eowyn's face light up her pale skin and golden hair with an ethereal brilliance. She is beautiful in her wedding raiment. The white lady lives up to her title. She possesses a childish grace, and an excited gait about her that were it not for her rounded ears and cloudy eyes, I might mistake her as a young elfmaid. This joyous site before the gathered witnesses has a profound effect. I look around me and see women wiping tears from smiling faces, and men from Rohan smiling and beaming with silent pride. I see this pride most in Eomer, newly crowned King of Rohen, as he stands beside his sister, one hand resting on her white cloaked shoulder.
Aragorn stands beside me, his hand resting at the small of my back, his fingers gently tracing down my spine unintentionally. I gaze up at him and feel my heart flutter. I lean into him and wrap my own arm around his waist. He looks down at me, and pulls me closer before kissing my forehead. Our eyes sparkle with the excited knowledge that our own wedding is only weeks away, and my love leans in to whisper into my ear. His warm breath tickles my ear, and giggling I squirm away from him without ever really trying to break free from his embrace.
"So close and yet so far, meleth-nin. Soon our hearts shall have all that we fought so hard for."
I look into his eyes, flecks of grey drowning in pools of crystalline blue, and I feel my knees threaten to give out. Those words, tumbling so freely from those blessed lips, carry so much meaning and weight to them that I can do nothing more then feel my throat constrict and tears brim in my lashes. He smiles at my faint blush, and embraces me fully, drawing the gaze from several men and women, concerned as to the action interrupting so important a wedding.
I realize that the King and I are making a slight scene, and taking attention away from those who truly deserve it this day. Clearing my throat slightly, I indicate Aragorn to resume watching his Steward's remaining moments as a free man. He obliges with a mischievous smile playing upon his lips, and from across the stone pathway I can see my father's eyes crinkled in merriment at our very public display of affection. Out of the corner of his eye I see him peek at me, and realizing he has been caught, he looks at me directly and suddenly a stern look falls upon his noble brow. Testing his true feelings, I smirk lightly at him, and then like the sun appearing from behind the clouds, a smile melts across his lips and he is again the happy man I know so well but have not seen in ages; the man I have not seen much of since the one ring had been found and a grave countenance had stolen his mirth. Perhaps this sorely missed man shall remain for a bit.
The sounds of cheers and shouting steals my attention, and I jump with a slight start. In my musings I have missed the end of the ceremony. Eowyn and Faramir are wed and the crowds below in the lower levels make known their celebrations at so noble a joining. In the royal courtyard, everyone claps and sings, and nods to the passing newlyweds as they immerse themselves in the throng to greet their wellwishers.
As the twilight stretches into evening, guests feast beneath the stars and toast to marriage, love, and the conception of babes. While the ceremonies themselves could not be more different from our own, the celebrations are quite the same, and the assembled elves make the most of it. Members of my father's house join in the dancing, and singing, and reveling. Aragorn had himself disappeared into the many guests, greeting many and speaking with friends.
I sit with the elves, laughing and musing and enjoying their company. Somewhere in the back of my mind, something tells me to savor this, for in a short time, I shall forever be robbed of their presence. Feeling the tightness once more settle in my chest, I push away such thoughts. Now is not the time for such sadness.
A hand taps my shoulder, and I look up from my perch to see Legolas, harp in hand and a smile on his lips, his eyes bright and gleaming and loving. He gestures to the crowd and quietly says: "What say you we give the world of men a taste for the music of the elves?" I smile at his offer, and nod. He perches beside me on the stone balustrade, and begins strumming a haunting tune from the strings of his harp. I close my eyes, and remember the words to a song I have never sung, but heard many times from the mouth of my own mother. "I once had a true love and I loved him so well
I loved him far better than my tongue can tell
And I thought that he spoke and to me did say
"It will not be long, love, 'til our wedding day" If I were an eagle and had wings for to fly
I would fly to his castle and there I would lie
On a bed of green laurel I would lay myself down
And with my fond dreams I would my love surround I dreamt last night that my true love came in
So slowly he came that his feet made no din
And I thought that he spoke and to me did say
"It will not be long, love, 'til our wedding day."
The harp grows silent, and when I open my eyes, I see the watching faces of the crowd staring at me. My father comes to stand beside me and rests his hand upon my shoulder, and his eyes carry a sadness in them I have not seen since my mother crossed the sea into the west. I take his hand in my own, and press it against my cheek. He kneels beside me, and brushes a heavy lock of hair away from my shoulder.
"I have not heard that song since Celebrian left these shores."
"I am sorry, Ada. I didn't mean to weigh your heart down with misgivings."
"You do not make me sad, Arwen. You just remind me so much of your mother that at times it shocks me."
I nod, and kiss his hand. "Soon, Ada, you and Naneth shall be together in Valinor, and your heart may rest once again, content and fulfilled."
"Partially fulfilled, Undomiel. There shall always be a piece missing, remaining here with you until the end." He kisses my forehead, and with a slight nod, vanishes away to be joined by Gandalf, who looks at me and smiles. I watch those two wise men depart and sigh. Before I can feel sad again, a shadow falls upon my lap, and I raise my head to look into Eowyn's radiant face. I quickly stand, and embrace the newly wed. I notice her slight hesitancy in returning the gesture, but I ignore the tremor in her frame and smile at her.
"How are you, M'lady?" She asks me quietly, and in her face I can see her genuine desire to consider me a friend, but there is something darker in her gaze, something that is perhaps discontent. Her eyes flash blue fire momentarily, and I sense that she is bitter at me for some unknown reason. She is a hard woman to read, I must give her that. It shall take me some time to understand the mechanisms of mortal women.
"I am well, Lady Eowyn, and I am so happy for you this day! Lord Faramir will make a fine husband. He is brave and handsome and so very much in love with you. I hope your union is blessed and favored by whatever keeper you go by."
"Thank you."
A few moments of silence pass between us, and despite the icy air between us, I can feel her desire to breech it just as strongly as I can feel my own. Luckily, Faramir and Aragorn approach just as the tension becomes unbearable. Eowyn and I sigh and smile as Faramir embraces his wife from behind. Aragorn for his part, gathers me in a massive embrace and lifts me from the ground. He spins around and were I not feeling so giddy and in love, I might complain that the constant twirling motion made me feel ill. He sets me on the ground and holds me up as my legs wobble with my weight upon them. He laughs heartily and kisses me in full view of all who are present. I care not, really. In fact, as I've told him more then once, anytime he see fit to kiss me he should do so. It is enthralling to know he is just as effected by me as I am by him.
Faramir smiles at us, and addresses me once my giggling has subsided.
"That was a lovely song, Lady Arwen. I've heard tales of the beauty of elvish song, but not until this moment did I realize it's power to stir the heart so movingly."
"Hennon lle, Lord Steward. That is a very old song, perhaps older then my father even. When I was very young, my mother, the Lady Celebrian, would sing it to my brothers and I on nights when we could not sleep. It has always warmed my heart in times of sadness and joy."
Aragorn smiled as he pulled me closer. "It is a fitting song for such an occasion, indeed. One wedding this day, and another wedding I two weeks time. But of course I am biased. Arwen could sing a song glorifying the valor of the Orcs, and I would find it lovely simply because the words echo from her lips."
I feel the raging blush spread across my cheeks. I know the effects of ale and love have loosened Estel's lips, but I do not mind such praise coming from the only one I would have speak such words. I see a slight frown drag down Eowyn's mouth, and for a moment I can sense her desire to be in my stead. Realization dawns and with a shocked start I realize why she is so reserved around me. She loves my Estel.
No, it cannot be. She loves Faramir. I see it in her eyes and in the way she touches him. And then I realize that it is possible to love two very different men for two very different reasons.
She loves Faramir for the way he treats her. For his spirit and his loyalty and his heart. She loves Aragorn simply because of his imposing physical presence. It is love against lust. It is understandable.
I am not so foolish to believe that I am the first Aragorn has loved, nor am I foolish enough to believe I will be the first to lay beneath him late at night, urging him on and bringing him to the very heights of pleasure. I am the first to hold his heart in it's entirety. I am not the first woman he has loved, but I am the woman he has loved most.
For a moment I wonder if I should trust the relationship that exists now between King and shieldmaiden. Long nights spent awaiting battle lead to strange bedfellows, when there is no hope left. But these thoughts are fleeting. I know Aragorn. I know his heart rests with me, and that since our meeting and pledging no other has warmed his bed or heart. I try to feel anger for this upstart for thinking she could take my place in Aragorn's attentions, but the sight before me renders me incapable. Eowyn so loves Faramir that she is virtually ignoring myself and the King of Gondor.
Seeing their desire for each other's company, Aragorn leads me away from the couple and links my arm with his. He motions to a servent to bring us wine flasks, and kisses me gently on the lips.
Pulling away from the kiss, I look him in the eye.
"She loved you."
Aragorn sighed, and averted his gaze to the floor.
"She did."
I am not surprised at his admission. He would not lie to me for anything.
"Have you reason to believe that she still harbors fond feeling for you?"
"She loved who I wasn't. She loved a shadow. Nothing more. I blinded myself to her plight so I could spare her feelings."
I muse over his words for a moment, before sipping my wine thoughtfully.
"Do you think she is happy with her choice?"
Aragorn looks over his shoulder at the couple, busy laughing and kissing as they join the dancing couples gliding over the soft grass and stone of the courtyard.
"Happier then most I've seen in my life. She will grow to love him in the same manner."
I smile, and kiss his shoulder, my lips grazing against the velvet and metal of his royal robes.
"Good, because I'm not ready to give you up quite yet." I smirk up at him, and he kisses the tip of my nose.
"I am glad to hear that, Indonya, because I have no intention of going anywhere."
***Song taken from lord of the dance soundtrack
Seeing as some of you liked this story, I decided to continue from the perspectives of other characters to give the story different facets. Hope you like.
Mortal weddings ceremonies are quite different from those of the Elves. There is only one cleric officiating. There are no prayers for the couple's love to remain eternal, no choirs singing ancient encantations to incite suppressed passion, no self-written verses shared between two newly joined hearts. It seems more mechanic than desirable. It is odd to me.
An elvish ceremony is indeed at times drawn out, but when you have forever to live, a long ceremony is nothing really. I myself have been witness to elvish weddings lasting days, even weeks. The joining of elves in marriage is nothing to be undertaken lightly. I truly wonder if Aragorn is aware of the exercise in patience to be enforced upon him in two weeks time with our own nuptials. Despite being immersed in the world of the elves since he was a babe, something tells me Estel does not quite understand what is coming his way in marrying the daughter of a high elf lord. My father must feel the same, for his eyes meet mine across the courtyard and we both smile knowingly.
Turning my gaze back to the ceremony, I smile at the happiness I see in Faramir's eyes, and recognize it as the feelings barely contained in my own breast. There is nothing but love in his gaze, and those eyes shining so brightly on Eowyn's face light up her pale skin and golden hair with an ethereal brilliance. She is beautiful in her wedding raiment. The white lady lives up to her title. She possesses a childish grace, and an excited gait about her that were it not for her rounded ears and cloudy eyes, I might mistake her as a young elfmaid. This joyous site before the gathered witnesses has a profound effect. I look around me and see women wiping tears from smiling faces, and men from Rohan smiling and beaming with silent pride. I see this pride most in Eomer, newly crowned King of Rohen, as he stands beside his sister, one hand resting on her white cloaked shoulder.
Aragorn stands beside me, his hand resting at the small of my back, his fingers gently tracing down my spine unintentionally. I gaze up at him and feel my heart flutter. I lean into him and wrap my own arm around his waist. He looks down at me, and pulls me closer before kissing my forehead. Our eyes sparkle with the excited knowledge that our own wedding is only weeks away, and my love leans in to whisper into my ear. His warm breath tickles my ear, and giggling I squirm away from him without ever really trying to break free from his embrace.
"So close and yet so far, meleth-nin. Soon our hearts shall have all that we fought so hard for."
I look into his eyes, flecks of grey drowning in pools of crystalline blue, and I feel my knees threaten to give out. Those words, tumbling so freely from those blessed lips, carry so much meaning and weight to them that I can do nothing more then feel my throat constrict and tears brim in my lashes. He smiles at my faint blush, and embraces me fully, drawing the gaze from several men and women, concerned as to the action interrupting so important a wedding.
I realize that the King and I are making a slight scene, and taking attention away from those who truly deserve it this day. Clearing my throat slightly, I indicate Aragorn to resume watching his Steward's remaining moments as a free man. He obliges with a mischievous smile playing upon his lips, and from across the stone pathway I can see my father's eyes crinkled in merriment at our very public display of affection. Out of the corner of his eye I see him peek at me, and realizing he has been caught, he looks at me directly and suddenly a stern look falls upon his noble brow. Testing his true feelings, I smirk lightly at him, and then like the sun appearing from behind the clouds, a smile melts across his lips and he is again the happy man I know so well but have not seen in ages; the man I have not seen much of since the one ring had been found and a grave countenance had stolen his mirth. Perhaps this sorely missed man shall remain for a bit.
The sounds of cheers and shouting steals my attention, and I jump with a slight start. In my musings I have missed the end of the ceremony. Eowyn and Faramir are wed and the crowds below in the lower levels make known their celebrations at so noble a joining. In the royal courtyard, everyone claps and sings, and nods to the passing newlyweds as they immerse themselves in the throng to greet their wellwishers.
As the twilight stretches into evening, guests feast beneath the stars and toast to marriage, love, and the conception of babes. While the ceremonies themselves could not be more different from our own, the celebrations are quite the same, and the assembled elves make the most of it. Members of my father's house join in the dancing, and singing, and reveling. Aragorn had himself disappeared into the many guests, greeting many and speaking with friends.
I sit with the elves, laughing and musing and enjoying their company. Somewhere in the back of my mind, something tells me to savor this, for in a short time, I shall forever be robbed of their presence. Feeling the tightness once more settle in my chest, I push away such thoughts. Now is not the time for such sadness.
A hand taps my shoulder, and I look up from my perch to see Legolas, harp in hand and a smile on his lips, his eyes bright and gleaming and loving. He gestures to the crowd and quietly says: "What say you we give the world of men a taste for the music of the elves?" I smile at his offer, and nod. He perches beside me on the stone balustrade, and begins strumming a haunting tune from the strings of his harp. I close my eyes, and remember the words to a song I have never sung, but heard many times from the mouth of my own mother. "I once had a true love and I loved him so well
I loved him far better than my tongue can tell
And I thought that he spoke and to me did say
"It will not be long, love, 'til our wedding day" If I were an eagle and had wings for to fly
I would fly to his castle and there I would lie
On a bed of green laurel I would lay myself down
And with my fond dreams I would my love surround I dreamt last night that my true love came in
So slowly he came that his feet made no din
And I thought that he spoke and to me did say
"It will not be long, love, 'til our wedding day."
The harp grows silent, and when I open my eyes, I see the watching faces of the crowd staring at me. My father comes to stand beside me and rests his hand upon my shoulder, and his eyes carry a sadness in them I have not seen since my mother crossed the sea into the west. I take his hand in my own, and press it against my cheek. He kneels beside me, and brushes a heavy lock of hair away from my shoulder.
"I have not heard that song since Celebrian left these shores."
"I am sorry, Ada. I didn't mean to weigh your heart down with misgivings."
"You do not make me sad, Arwen. You just remind me so much of your mother that at times it shocks me."
I nod, and kiss his hand. "Soon, Ada, you and Naneth shall be together in Valinor, and your heart may rest once again, content and fulfilled."
"Partially fulfilled, Undomiel. There shall always be a piece missing, remaining here with you until the end." He kisses my forehead, and with a slight nod, vanishes away to be joined by Gandalf, who looks at me and smiles. I watch those two wise men depart and sigh. Before I can feel sad again, a shadow falls upon my lap, and I raise my head to look into Eowyn's radiant face. I quickly stand, and embrace the newly wed. I notice her slight hesitancy in returning the gesture, but I ignore the tremor in her frame and smile at her.
"How are you, M'lady?" She asks me quietly, and in her face I can see her genuine desire to consider me a friend, but there is something darker in her gaze, something that is perhaps discontent. Her eyes flash blue fire momentarily, and I sense that she is bitter at me for some unknown reason. She is a hard woman to read, I must give her that. It shall take me some time to understand the mechanisms of mortal women.
"I am well, Lady Eowyn, and I am so happy for you this day! Lord Faramir will make a fine husband. He is brave and handsome and so very much in love with you. I hope your union is blessed and favored by whatever keeper you go by."
"Thank you."
A few moments of silence pass between us, and despite the icy air between us, I can feel her desire to breech it just as strongly as I can feel my own. Luckily, Faramir and Aragorn approach just as the tension becomes unbearable. Eowyn and I sigh and smile as Faramir embraces his wife from behind. Aragorn for his part, gathers me in a massive embrace and lifts me from the ground. He spins around and were I not feeling so giddy and in love, I might complain that the constant twirling motion made me feel ill. He sets me on the ground and holds me up as my legs wobble with my weight upon them. He laughs heartily and kisses me in full view of all who are present. I care not, really. In fact, as I've told him more then once, anytime he see fit to kiss me he should do so. It is enthralling to know he is just as effected by me as I am by him.
Faramir smiles at us, and addresses me once my giggling has subsided.
"That was a lovely song, Lady Arwen. I've heard tales of the beauty of elvish song, but not until this moment did I realize it's power to stir the heart so movingly."
"Hennon lle, Lord Steward. That is a very old song, perhaps older then my father even. When I was very young, my mother, the Lady Celebrian, would sing it to my brothers and I on nights when we could not sleep. It has always warmed my heart in times of sadness and joy."
Aragorn smiled as he pulled me closer. "It is a fitting song for such an occasion, indeed. One wedding this day, and another wedding I two weeks time. But of course I am biased. Arwen could sing a song glorifying the valor of the Orcs, and I would find it lovely simply because the words echo from her lips."
I feel the raging blush spread across my cheeks. I know the effects of ale and love have loosened Estel's lips, but I do not mind such praise coming from the only one I would have speak such words. I see a slight frown drag down Eowyn's mouth, and for a moment I can sense her desire to be in my stead. Realization dawns and with a shocked start I realize why she is so reserved around me. She loves my Estel.
No, it cannot be. She loves Faramir. I see it in her eyes and in the way she touches him. And then I realize that it is possible to love two very different men for two very different reasons.
She loves Faramir for the way he treats her. For his spirit and his loyalty and his heart. She loves Aragorn simply because of his imposing physical presence. It is love against lust. It is understandable.
I am not so foolish to believe that I am the first Aragorn has loved, nor am I foolish enough to believe I will be the first to lay beneath him late at night, urging him on and bringing him to the very heights of pleasure. I am the first to hold his heart in it's entirety. I am not the first woman he has loved, but I am the woman he has loved most.
For a moment I wonder if I should trust the relationship that exists now between King and shieldmaiden. Long nights spent awaiting battle lead to strange bedfellows, when there is no hope left. But these thoughts are fleeting. I know Aragorn. I know his heart rests with me, and that since our meeting and pledging no other has warmed his bed or heart. I try to feel anger for this upstart for thinking she could take my place in Aragorn's attentions, but the sight before me renders me incapable. Eowyn so loves Faramir that she is virtually ignoring myself and the King of Gondor.
Seeing their desire for each other's company, Aragorn leads me away from the couple and links my arm with his. He motions to a servent to bring us wine flasks, and kisses me gently on the lips.
Pulling away from the kiss, I look him in the eye.
"She loved you."
Aragorn sighed, and averted his gaze to the floor.
"She did."
I am not surprised at his admission. He would not lie to me for anything.
"Have you reason to believe that she still harbors fond feeling for you?"
"She loved who I wasn't. She loved a shadow. Nothing more. I blinded myself to her plight so I could spare her feelings."
I muse over his words for a moment, before sipping my wine thoughtfully.
"Do you think she is happy with her choice?"
Aragorn looks over his shoulder at the couple, busy laughing and kissing as they join the dancing couples gliding over the soft grass and stone of the courtyard.
"Happier then most I've seen in my life. She will grow to love him in the same manner."
I smile, and kiss his shoulder, my lips grazing against the velvet and metal of his royal robes.
"Good, because I'm not ready to give you up quite yet." I smirk up at him, and he kisses the tip of my nose.
"I am glad to hear that, Indonya, because I have no intention of going anywhere."
***Song taken from lord of the dance soundtrack