Part Eight
The Gates of Dawn
I know now, just quite how
My life and love might still go on
In your heart and your mind
I'll stay with you for all of time
If I could, then I would
I'll go wherever you will go
Way up high or down low
I'll go wherever you will go
The Calling 'Wherever you will go'
"The greatest happiness in life is the conviction that we are loved,
loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves."
Victor Hugo
Ten Years Later
"Estel, Keldarion, come here at once," I called, as the two little Elf-children came running and tumbling over each other to reach me, Galadh behind me laughed as I wrapped my arms around the mischievous pair. "Just like their father," I commented to her, as they danced around me, rolling over each other like puppies. Soon they grew bored of that amusement, and instead hung on my skirts, "Naneth, mother," they chorused, and I bent down to them. "What have I told you before about calling me mother?" I said, "Your mother is with the Valar, I am not her." These words caused me great pain; it felt so good that they called me mother, I so wished that they were my own children – yet I could not. I could not claim them for myself, that would be wrong both to the memory of their mother, and to their father, my love, whom I had not seen for so long.
I smiled, and taking Galadh by the hand I went inside, after severely admonishing the children not to stray, forgetting that such is the contrariness of the infant mind, that is what they would do.
After about an hour of talking to Galadh I realised with a start that the children had been left unattended. I jumped up, my sewing falling from my lap and tumbling to the floor. "What is it?" she enquired as I hurried quickly to the door, "The boys, I have left them alone for too long. What if they've got hurt? What if they've run off? Oh, I must go and find them."
"Calm yourself Osellë; they can't have gone far," she said reassuringly, "Remember the last time you got into a panic about them? You rudely abandoned King Elessar in mid conversation, knocked over a few of the most important of the courtiers, causing many a sore elbow, and even worse, a bruised dignity, while you were excruciatingly embarrassed when you exploded in on poor Naerwen, only to find that the children were perfectly safe."
"I know, I know, but this feels different. I feel that something serious has indeed happened." She must have sensed my panic, for she looked as anxious as I, and of one accord, we made for the door and ran as fast as we could along the corridors and out, arriving suddenly at the bit of land where the lads often played, just outside the main gates. This time my anxiety was justified, for the piece of land was utterly empty save for the falling leaves, and when I called, there was no quick patter of feet in reply.
About an hour later, I found myself running blindly through the forest hallooing their names to the winds in the vain hope that I would hear an answering call, but none came.
I had failed them; I had failed their father. This search was fruitless, for I would never find them at this rate; I didn't have the foggiest idea of where they could be. I was looking for a needle in a haystack, a haystack many fathoms wide and two needles only a few feet tall.
Yet I couldn't go back, I couldn't admit defeat. Even as night fell I was still searching. I blessed my Elven vision that penetrated even the obscurity of the forest night, allowing me to continue my search in a darkness that would have rendered blind an ordinary mortal's eyes.
I heard a rustle of leaves and turned around, hoping against hope that it was they, but the stride, though light, was too heavy for small children. I gazed into the darkness as the figure advanced through the trees, slowly pulling a dagger from a pocket of my dress in case I needed to defend myself. He drew closer and I stood poised, ready to fight or flee should he be aggressive. I needn't have worried, for his face, when the light of the stars fell upon it, was definitely familiar and essentially friendly.
"Elrohir" I exclaimed, as he smiled broadly, stretching out his arms as if to embrace me, his smile fading as I held out my hand to him instead of falling into his arms. He took my proffered hand, kissing it passionately and then returning it to me.
"Long time, no see eh?" he said joyously.
"Yes, it's been seventeen years, has it not? Things have changed much."
"But not my feelings for you" he replied warmly.
"Nor mine, I'm sorry," I said somewhat coldly as his face fell.
I hugged him after all; he looked so sad, calling him 'my brother' so that he would not misconstrue my meaning. Suddenly I was again gripped with worry, and exclaimed anxiously, "But I can't stay, I can't stay. I have to find the children."
"You have children?" he enquired bitterly, "Things have changed much then."
"Not mine; unfortunately, they are Legolas and Vénea's. I am their guardian and I have lost them."
"Oh no," he said, his concern hiding a sense of relief that the children were not my own.
"I must find them, I must!"
"You can't go wandering in the woods alone," he cautioned, "it is dark and you are unarmed."
"No I am not!" I said sharply, brandishing the dagger threateningly,
"That little knife," he laughed disdainfully, "You would be long dead before your foe was in striking distance"
I narrowed my eyes, and bringing up the dagger, I scrutinised him for a moment, then with a quick flick of my wrist I threw it. He gasped as it whistled past his ear and embedded itself, quivering, in the tree trunk, just inches from his dark head.
"Now you see that I am not undefended, please let me go,"
"Yes I will" he shouted, "you are not safe to have around, you almost killed me! I pity any wild beast that strays into your path."
"Fine then" I said and turned away, ploughing stubbornly deeper into the forest.
Soon I heard the drumming of feet behind me and felt a restraining hand on my shoulder. "No, you need my help," Elrohir proclaimed, "You are going about tracking totally the wrong way. Firstly, you need to have some idea where your quarry – in this case the children went. Now, we will go back to the castle and retrace their steps from there."
"But the castle is hours away, I have been wandering for ages,"
"You must have been wandering around in circles then," he retorted sharply, "for the castle is only a short distance north of here." He pointed the way I had come. And indeed it was, for we soon reached the piece of land where I had last seen the boys. Elrohir motioned me to stay where I was while he bent down and began closely scrutinising the ground for signs showing where the children had gone. He was bending down, his rather nice posterior in my face as a loud voice came form somewhere near the gate. "Ho there, what y' doing trespassing on t' King's lan'. Show yerselfs." I turned with great dignity, while Elrohir pointedly kept his unbecoming posture. "Who are you that you can speak to me in such an impertinent manner?" I demanded coldly, advancing towards the gate. The guard, a rather rough, ungainly elf that looked rather like he had some dwarf blood in him, on seeing my face illuminated by the moonlight, leapt to attention, cringing with acute embarrassment. "Beg your pardon, milady," he whined, "but we've been wary on t' lookout fo' strangers, since t' princes disappeared."
"They have not been found then?"
"No milady, though the whole of Mirkwood's been scoring the forest looking fo' 'em. We thought we'd lost you as well."
Suddenly Elrohir leapt up, and beckoning wildly, pointed to a tiny depressing in the dew soaked grass that was almost invisible to even an Elven eye, save that the light of the moon shone directly upon it. "They went this way," he said, pointing to a trail of similar depressions. I followed his pointing finger, along the barely visible trail that the two boys had made, which was soon lost in the gloom of the overhanging trees. They grew more thickly and more dankly there than in any of the surrounding woodland, totally blocking out the light of the setting moon in blackness so dense that even Elven vision could barely pierce it. I gulped, turning to Elrohir, I said in a voice of barely concealed panic, "They've gone that way?"
"Undoubtedly."
"But that is the most dangerous part of the whole forest. The Necromancer inhabited those parts when he lived here, and traces of his evil still linger in the darkest places. There are spiders as huge as a dog that will hunt the children, wrapping them in their foul webs before consuming them. And then there is the stream of forgetfulness, which brings deep sleep and even death to those who venture in it," I seized hold of his arm, barely suppressing my terror, "and the children have gone that way!" Forcing down my rising hysteria, I ran towards the guard, stammering, "Please, give me your bow, for I am going to enter into the forest and search for the princes even into the danger and dark of that place." He gaped at me as I gently prised the bow and quiver form his unresisting grip. Suddenly he snapped straight and burst out, "you canna venture that way, milady. I wouldna go there even in the midday sun, let alone at night,"
"But I am not asking you to go, nor you, Elrohir," I said, "I will go even in the dark and if needs be alone because I owe that duty to their father and to them." Bearing the guard's bow aloft, I hastened towards the forest boundary, following the track that the princes had made, and plunging, without a backwards glance, into the trees. Yet, I as not alone, for soon Elrohir came running up, an arrow fitted to his bowstring, "You don't know the first thing about tracking," he said, "and if you are too stubborn to wait 'till morning, then at least let me come with you. Better to risk death with you, for if you died then I couldn't bear to live with the guilt." I smiled to myself, and thanking him for his we continued on our way. Our progress was painfully slow as Elrohir slashed his way through the undergrowth, always keeping close to the now more obvious trail that the two princes had made. I drew instinctively closer to him as the darkness drew in and enveloped us. A cold shiver ran down my spine at the eerie silence of the place, not a leaf stirred, not a branch rustled. There was no sound of animals or night birds; we seemed to be the only living things in the whole hellish place, our breathing echoing loudly in the stilly air. Suddenly I felt something jerk at my long hair and I screamed. Elrohir turned thunderously to me and shoved a rather hard hand onto my mouth, silencing me by his stare. I tried to pull away but I couldn't move I was held too tightly. "I can't move my head," I whispered, "please untangle me."
"Damn your long hair," he whispered as he set to the task, yanking at my hair as if he wanted to pull it from my head. I gave a muffled 'ouch' at his harsh treatment, causing him to tease out each strand with elaborate care, yet I still remained inexorably ensnared by that evil plant. Suddenly he lost all patience and drew out his sword. Suddenly I was free, my lovely long locks still cruelly tangled in the ensnaring thorns. I screamed again, the severing of my beautiful hair was a physical pain – as if one of my limbs has been cut off. I spun round, yanking my now shortened locks that Elrohir still held in his hands and, pointing an accusing finger at him, exploded, "Do you know what you have done to me? You have destroyed a part of me; you have destroyed a lifetime's work!"
"Its only hair, it'll grow," he ridiculed, but rather nervously, fending off my flailing fists, as I ranted, "of course it will grow back, in like a hundred years. A hundred years work that you have destroyed in a second!" I whirled around again, trying to see what damage he had done – but of course a hand which should have been met with a thick, soft veil of smooth dark hair, only to touch the smooth fabric of my dress." The ends aren't even straight!" I exploded, turning by back on him and beginning to walk off deeper into the forest when a sudden noise in the treetops above my head, instead casing me to run back to him, my fear far outweighing my momentary revulsion to his company. "What was that?" I whispered fearfully, drawing closer towards him. He simply pointed and I followed his trembling figure until I found my self staring into the huge, saucer sized eyes of the biggest spider I had ever seen, at least the size of a dog, or even bigger! I screamed as I advanced towards me, its foul fangs raised for the kill. I caught a glimpse of a round, fat, hairy body and legs the length of my arm before I sent an arrow flying right into its heart (if it had one) giving a smirk of satisfaction as the creature plummeted to the ground.
However, the smugness was soon wiped off my face as I looked up, to see treetop after treetop covered with thick, white ropes that could only be spider webs, on the middle of each sat a huge black blob, all bigger than the one that I had just killed. I screamed again, for I had just noticed something that made my blood run cold, for there, in the centre of the largest web, guarded by the biggest spider I could just see the sole of a small, wildly kicking foot, that to my horror, I recognised as one of the twins, projecting out of a huge cocoon like mass of cobwebs that could only be the spider's next meal!
With a cry of despair I seized Elrohir's sword and launched myself at the nearest tree, pulling my self up towards the webs, my only thought to free the flailing child before the spider could begin its supper. I soon reached the top and began thrashing wildly about me with the weapon, dismembering any spider that drew too close. My movements seemed to catch the attention of the other spiders, for they all rounded on me en masse, scuttling along their thin bridges to surround me. Soon all the spiders had gathered in a huge arc around me and I stood, staring into their evil eyes that were just below mine. As yet none of them advanced and I gave my sword a desultory shake, shouting out silently to Elrohir, "Quick, get the child while I distract these foul beasts," I saw him wave his arm from far below in reply, and lunged ferociously at the nearest spider to focus their attention on me. "Good thing I was never scared of spiders," I whispered to myself as I turned on the first one, ramming my sword into its vile belly. This seemed to spur the others to action, for they attacked me simultaneously, each baring its loathsome fangs to sink into me if I let my guard fall. I fought off the second spider and it soon joined the first on the distant ground. Soon the foul creatures were falling like flies around me, one meeting its end at every blow of my blade. I a wave of anger and, dare I say it, exultation – almost bloodlust, in this unequal battle, one solitary Elf against a horde of giant spiders, just as I had felt in the mines of Moria when I waged my lone crusade against the Orcs.
Soon my blade and my tunic were coated with the foul blood of spiders and the pile on the ground below of their dismembered corpses was growing rapidly. I gave a demonic laugh, and with blazing eyes, advancing along the narrow branch on which I was perched, the beasts retreating before me. I took advantage of this lull in their attack to see how Elrohir was succeeding in disentangling the child from the web. He seemed to be doing well, the wildly struggling boy almost free, and, reassured by this I was about to make a fresh onslaught when, out of the corner of my eye I spied the largest spider bending over Elrohir, its fangs exposed, ready to inject him with its poison. Without thinking I drew out the dagger from my pocket and taking a quick aim threw it so that it impaled the foul creature, knocking it backwards to bite the dust.
Suddenly, a fierce, burning pain shot through my neck, paralysing me for an instant, causing a great rush of pain to sweep through me, instantly followed by an intense lethargy, numbing my mind and freezing my limbs. "I've been got!" I exclaimed; I knew that I would probably die; my only thought before my mind went completely blank was of the ludicrousness of the situation – killed by a spider, how funny!
I came too to a weird feeling of lying on something squashy and quite unpleasant, rather like a hairy dung heap. I sat up difficulty, swaying gently as I stood up, instantly collapsing. The thought gradually dawned in my still befuddled mind that a spider was devouring me, but I gradually realised that my limbs were not covered by cobweb, but were completely free. I moved each of my limbs warily in turn just to check, they were unconstrained. I gave an amused laugh and tottered again to my feet, falling again on something soft, I laughed again to hear a muffled shout coming from beneath me, I never knew the ground could talk. Gradually the effects of the spider's poison withdrew form my mind and I realised with a start that I was in fact lying on a rather disgruntled and obviously exasperated Elrohir. "Get off of me," he shouted and I obediently rolled off, finding my feet more easily. I stood up, and noticed a rather dirty and be-cobwebbed Keldarion, staring up at me with huge, 'innocent' eyes. I rushed up and folded him in my arms, scolding and kissing him in turns, unsure whether to be angry at his running away or glad that he was safe. Soon my gladness overtook me and I kissed him again, while he wriggled uncomfortably in my arms, obviously I had been hugging him too long for his liking.
I unwillingly released him and instead demanded, "Where is your brother?" he shifted his feet uneasily, avoiding my gaze. I pressed him again, half inclined to give way to my anger when he blurted out, "He fell into the water!"
"What!"
"He fell into the sleeping stream, or what ever it's called, he's lying on the far bank now, asleep." Oh no, he had fallen into the waters, the dreaded stream of forgetfulness, and was on the opposite bank with no way of rescuing him. I gave Keldarion a hard cuff on the ear that sent him reeling, and turning my back on both him and Elrohir, rushed off towards the stream.
Soon arrived at a space where the trees grew more sparely, and even the evil creatures that haunted this part of the forest were silent, and a great drowsiness seemed to full the air, rising from the sluggish, glittering waters of the black brook that snaked its way though the trees.
One weak ray of light managed to struggle through the dense canopy, to illuminate for a second the opposite bank, and in that brief moment before it vanished I noticed, to my horror and relief, a small, red-gold head poking out of the water on the other side of the river.
Just then Elrohir and Keldarion came running up, anxious to confront me with my treatment of Keldarion, but I ignored them, instead desperately scrutinising the river, looking for any means to get across to Estel. Just as I was about to give up hope my eyes fell on a rather fragile looking branch that stretched across the river, lodged firmly on the opposite bank. After guessing that it would bear me, just, I removed all unnecessary weight, dumping my bow, sword, quiver and cloak in Elrohir's outstretched arms. I surveyed my long overgarment, and much to Elrohir's amazement, pulled it off too. "If you want to change your mind about lying with me then I am quite open to it," he exclaimed laughingly, "but now's not quite the time or the place, especially in front of young children. Shall I send Keldarion away for a second while we…"
"Sorry to disappoint you," I interrupted, "but I am removing my over-garment – and nothing more, so that I am not tripped up while I cross the stream." I ignored his protests and put one foot warily on the slender bridge. It creaked slightly, but bore my weight and I hurried quickly across it, soon finding myself safely on the opposite bank. Seizing a stick from the ground, I hooked it into the belt of the unconscious child, and hauled him, dripping out of the water and on to the bank, making sure that I was not splashed by any of the water, for I did not really want to fall asleep right at this moment in time. When he had stopped dripping, I hoisted him on to my back, staggering under his weight for a second but easily righting myself. I hobbled to the slender bridge and then stopped. It looked so frail; it would break so easily, I could hardly believe that it had borne my small weight let alone the combined weight of the child and me. But there was no other way to get across, I did not know if there was any other crossing place and I dare not risk wandering along the bank. My strength was already giving out, the effects of the poison and of the river almost too much for me. Hoisting Estel higher up my back, I screwed up my courage and placed one foot on the branch, then my other one. It creaked dangerously but showed now signs of snapping as yet so I continued on, eyes fixed on the plank beneath me. I blocked out all other distractions from my mind other than the need to get to safety – I was doing well, I was almost at the middle, not far to go... Gradually my attention began to wander, my gaze distracted by the flow of the black water under my feet. My eyelids grew heavy and I felt a strange numbness creep over me, I was gradually falling under the river's spell. I realised suddenly that I would have to act quickly before it gained full influence over me and I fell into the river. I gazed at Elrohir on the opposite bank, gave a short run-up along my precarious perch and, pulling the child off my back, flung him across the river, leaping after him and landing with a thud on the opposite bank to tumultuous applause from both Elrohir and Keldarion. "Bravo, Bravo" Elrohir called, then embraced me warmly, "that finishing touch was excellent, I really thought you were going to fall into the river!"
"So did I, so did I," suddenly Keldarion, who had been bending over the inanimate form of his brother, gave a long, low whistle, "Osellë," he said half laughing, half nervous, "You'd better do something about your dress,"
"No, she shouldn't," Elrohir quipped, "She looks incredibly attractive at the moment! Quite bewitching"
"What? What's wrong with my dress?" I demanded, and then looked down and blushed crimson, for my undergarment had slipped quite dangerously, exposing a large amount of white breast. Quickly tugging it up I pulled on my overgarment, and hauling Estel onto my shoulders, I hurried off towards Thranduil's Halls. "Hey, wait up!" Elrohir shouted behind me, but I hurried on regardless, quite forgetting the weight of the child on my back in my eagerness to be home. I was full with a sense of expectation, which grew within me with every step I made; something was calling me, calling me onward, pulling me towards the halls. I broke into a run as I realised what this call was. It was Legolas, he had returned!
In an agony of anticipation I quickened my pace, flying through the forest, my dancing feet barely touching the ground, the burden on my back could have been as light as a feather for all I felt it. Forgetting totally about Elrohir and Keldarion who were somewhere behind I dashed on, as the trees thinned around me, the shade of their canopy being replaced with the merry light of the sun, the very birds sharing my joy. I teared into the clearing, shutting my eyes for the surprise to be greater, my lips parted, ready for his kiss, but it didn't come. I opened y eyes them slowly, my bubble of hope burst. He was not there, he had not come, my desires were fruitless, I had lifted myself up on a wave of hope, only to come crashing down. My slumbering burden, which had, during my elation, been as light as a feather, suddenly felt like that I had the whole Earth on my shoulders. I staggered and had great difficulty in falling through the gate, where I collapsed on the floor. I did not remain on the ground for long though, soon many hands were lifting me up; many faces were full of concern. I saw the face of Tharundil among them, holding the child, "You're back, you're safe," he exclaimed, embracing me warmly, "But what has happened to Estel, why will he not wake? And where is Keldarion?"
I sighed, and smiled wanly, "Estel fell into the stream – the steam of forgetfulness, he should wake up eventually. Keldarion – he is coming with Elrohir, in fact he is arriving now." I said as a rather red faced Elrohir burst into the room, followed by Keldarion, who was immediately embraced by his grandfather. They hung around me with hundreds of questions, eager to know about my adventures, but I brushed them off, pleading tiredness, wanting only solitude, to be alone with my crushed hopes. I took the sleeping child and carried him to his room, laying him on the bed while I knelt beside him, bathing his body with my silent tears.
Some time later I felt a gentle hand on my shaking shoulder, sending an electric shiver down my spine "Legolas," I sighed, knowing that it couldn't be him, but hoping, praying, that it was. I raised my head and he took my chin gently in his hands, it was Legolas!
Lifting me up, he entwined one arm around my waist; holding my chin gently with the other, tilting it up so that his lips met mine... He was back. He was back and he loved me!
Estel gradually opened his eyes and gazed up into mine. Legolas beamed across the bed at me as Estel gradually sat up, rubbing his head. "I'm so sorry for running away, Osellë, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to go near that stream, honest."
"Well, you're safe now, and your father is here."
"My father?" he enquired, puzzled, then a beatific smile dawned on his face, "My father!" Legolas leaned over and embraced his son, as Keldarion ran in and, after standing, gazing dumbly at Legolas, rushed up and threw his arms around him. "Ada," he laughed, clambering on the bed, hugging him and me in turn, I felt so happy, so happy that I was with my love once more.
It was dark. The boys were asleep in their shared room, and I was alone, alone with the one I loved, walking together through the forest, his arm around my waist, my head on his shoulder. Turning around, he kissed me, passionately, pulling me to him; he was my world, my all. Suddenly the sound of footsteps disturbed us, I looked up, startled, glancing past Legolas' shoulder to see Elrohir advancing towards me. "Osellë," he gasped, my name a cry of pain from his lips, cutting me deeply. Legolas released one arm from my waist, turning around to face him, and then opening his arms with a cry of joy. "Elrohir, my friend! I am so glad to see you after so long!" but Elrohir just stood there, gazing angrily at Legolas and at me.
"So you have what you want, you have Osellë," he said bitterly. "Look, the lady I love lies in your arms; you hold my heart in your embrace. You have stolen her, and you dare to call me your friend."
"Elrohir," I remonstrated, "I know that you love me, but I cannot love you. I have beside me all that I have ever wanted, ever needed. Please do not embitter this for me; please do not spoil my love with doubts. I do not want to hurt you, my brother, but would you deprive me of this happiness?" Legolas quickly turned to face me, a new light spreading across his face, "Do you really mean it?" he demanded excitedly. "Do you really mean that I am your all?" I nodded dumbly, my heart too full for words. He turned towards me, seizing my hands in his. "Then I must ask you something that has been burning on my tongue for years, something that I have wanted to say to you ever since – ever since I left you to fight. I haven't been sure of your returning my love until now." He knelt before me, sill holding my hands. "Osellë Atanvarne, daughter of Eldarestalo, I love you with all my heart, with all my soul, with all my mind and with all my strength! Will you marry me?"
"Yes!" and I fell into his arms, all the pain, all the grief of my past life banished in this perfect happiness and love.
At last I became aware of things other than him, at last I noticed Elrohir's distraught gaze, and his battle to regain control over himself. I ran over to him and hugged him quickly, "I am sorry, I am so sorry, but don't you see that we were never meant to be. Look around you, there are others who would die to posses you as their own, but I am not one of them."
He sighed bitterly, "Yes I know, and – and I wish you joy in your husband. May your life be long and full of love." Turing to Legolas, he held out his hand. "Let me be the first to congratulate you on this joyful occasion. You are not worthy of her, but then no one is, least of all I."
He turned slowly and made his way to the hall, where I saw a shape detach themselves from the shadows and go to meet him. I recognised it as Galadh. I looked at him as he turned to face her, and I knew that he already had the companion for him, he only needed to reach out and take her. Wrapping my arms around Legolas I smiled happily as he embraced me, pressing his lips against mine. At last, at last, after centuries of waiting I was going to be married to the person I loved best in the world.
"Turn around, let me see the back. Yes, that suits you perfectly; white certainly is your colour."
I smiled happily at my reflection in the mirror, glowing back. I could hardly recognise myself; I was positively radiant in the white – my skin actually had some colour in it! Arwen smiled at me as she tweaked the filmy fabric over my hips, but Aswen scowled, pouting pettishly and flaunting her raven locks which were certainly much longer than my poor crop, by no means recovered from its encounter with the thorn bush. Her sullenness rankled on my happy mood; happiness was such a new thing to me, I hated her for trying to mar it. "You don't like the dress?" I enquired lightly, giving it a gentle pull.
"No, I love your wedding dress," she retorted acidly, "I just don't like the person in it." I sighed bitterly. I had not seen her for ten years and now, two days after her return, we were already bickering. "Look, I know you don't like my marrying Vénea's husband, but there is no need to be mean about it. I am as upset as anyone about her untimely death, but life must go one, and I love him."
"And I loved her," she replied angrily, standing up suddenly so that spools of thread and bits of fabric rolled from her lap over the floor. "She is barely cold in her grave and he is marrying again, and marrying you. You, who purported to be her best friend, as soon as her back is turned, worked your wiles on her husband until he crawled to your feet. I noticed that you were shooting sheep's eyes at him even on their wedding day. And what were you doing three days after her funeral with her grieving husband in your bedchamber all night, eh?"
That was too much! Swinging my hand back I hit her sharply in the face, leaving a red handprint on her pale cheek. As quick as lightning she hit back, and soon we were having a proper brawl, tearing clothes and hair. My wedding dress was soon in tatters while Arwen vainly tried to intercede, until a stray blow sent her flying. "I'm pregnant you know," she yelled, obviously unhurt though shocked out of her usual dignity. We stopped in mid blow, staring dumbstruck at each other, "Pregnant?" we stammered in unison, releasing our hold on each others dresses and stepping back nervously from each other.
"Yes pregnant," she repeated, her voice rising almost to a sob, and then dropping to its normal level. "This was not the way I wanted to reveal it, I was rather hoping to tell my husband first, but there you go."
Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door, and a musical voice enquired, "What on earth is going on in there? I never knew it took so much noise and effort to try on a wedding dress, it sounds like a full scale war at least!" I heard the door click as the latch was lifted, and the blue eyes of Legolas sparkled through the opening. We looked dumbstruck at each other; the state the room was in, the state Aswen and I were in – it wouldn't bear thinking about! Thinking quickly I threw myself against the slowly opening door, "Sorry, can't come in, love, its unlucky to see the bride in her dress before the wedding..." I heard a cry of pain from the other side and a glimpse of something rather cruel being done to a long, lovely and rather well known finger as I quickly slammed the door. I rushed to Arwen's side, thinking of aiming a sly kick at Aswen as I passed, but managing to quell the impulse. I had already ruined my wedding dress, had my short hair shortened even more by Aswen's strong hands, upset the Queen of Gondor who happened, to make things even worse, to be with child, and, to top it all off, trapped the finger of my beloved in the door. I gazed ruefully at Arwen, as she made Aswen and I hug each other somewhat unwillingly. She fell to rectifying the damage done to my bridal gown, giving me a harsh prick in the side with a needle when I dared to make some snide comment at Aswen, who was sewing up the rents in her own dress.
The rest of the day passed somewhat more peaceably. At long last the dress was finished and I had chance to kiss the poor trapped finger better, as well as receiving enough like endearments to cure all possible ailments for at least another hundred years.
"Mrargh," I groaned, and rolled over, burying my head under the pillows, hoping fervently that whoever it was would soon go away and leave me in peace, but they didn't. "It's not even light yet," I protested, as the sheets were pulled from me, and I was left cold and shivering,
"Dawn waits for no one," Galadh proclaimed brightly, as she lifted me protesting from my bed and dumped me rather unceremoniously in a bath of rather cold water. "Come, you will be married in an hour, and need to be got ready."
Thankfully my ordeal was soon over, and I was dried and dressed, passive as a mannequin, in my beautiful dress, my hair arranged in intricate braids and left to flow over the white silk of my dress, a black, though rather short, cascade of perfume. I smoothed the clinging material over my hips, tugging down the neckline and straightening my long, gold- lined sleeves. Turning this way and that I admired myself in the tiny mirror, frustrated that I could only see a small part of my reflection at any one time. But Arwen assured me that I looked beautiful as she tugged at the laces of my bodice, severely constricting my breathing – but I was too happy to care. Just as I was about to leave, I heard a gentle knock on the door, at a rather low level off the ground. Opening it quickly I saw Keldarion, uncomfortably attired in his best clothes, his unruly blond hair pulled into some semblance of order, and shifting nervously from foot to foot. He gasped in admiration as he saw me, and I felt my face grow hot. "Osellë, you look beautiful," he sighed; I playfully boxed his ear at his impertinence but blushed even redder. He continued, babbling rapidly so that his words tumbled over each other, "Father told me to call you... wanted to come himself but remembered his poor trapped finger," Keldarion looked at me wonderingly for a moment. "He wants you to wear this, not the heirloom of Mirkwood, but almost as good." He held out a silver necklace decorated with intricate knotwork, from which hung a single emerald, and a silver circlet, with an emerald pendant to hang over my brow. I bent down and he attempted to fasten the necklace and circlet with clumsy, trembling fingers. When he finally managed I kissed him lightly on the cheek, which he scowled at, although I could see he was secretly pleased. After adjusting the circlet in front of the mirror I suffered him to lead me to the front door, where I veiled my face. I was led, in a daze of happiness, through the dewy forest, still in the half-light of early dawn, but gradually illuminated by the first rays of the sun.
The wedding ceremony was a haze of bliss. I repeated my vows, conscious only of his presence beside me; he was so close. I was filled with anticipation, quivering with desire, and the knowledge that in a matter of minutes I would be his...
Soon I heard Tharundil utter the words, "You shall be joined in love, not two but one. One flesh, one blood, one soul. As long as love burns, let it bind you. May your love bind you for eternity." He joined our hands together, fingers interlaced, Legolas long, strong hand held firmly within mine, his thumb softly stroking mine, his pulse hammering. My parted, trembling lips whispered the final promise, begging Thranduil to hurry, to come to the end, for I felt that I could not control for much longer the overpowering longing that threatened to overcome me. Finally the closing words fell on my straining ears, "You are now joined as husband and wife, seal your love with a kiss." There was no need for this encouragement, within seconds I was clasped in Legolas' arms, his lovely lips pressed to mine, utterly surrendered to happiness.
I opened my eyes, gazing intently into his, he winked slightly, and I nodded my head. With one swift movement, he swept me off my feet, literally, and carried me in his arms. "Go get her," Aragorn called in a rather un-kingly manner, and Legolas smiled, as he conveyed me, blushing hotly, into the trees.
Three hours later, I was sitting at my husband's side (I could hardy believe that after so many years of waiting I was at last his,) while in front of us lay the spread of our wedding breakfast. Yet he and I could eat little – we spent too much time devouring each other with our eyes, our love was the only sustenance we needed. I whispered his name as another wave of love swept though me, this was rather worrying – it would be very enjoyably although rather impractical to spend all our time as we had spent the past hour. I was just thinking how nice it would be if I kissed his lips again, when my reverie was disturbed by two piping voices shortly followed by two rushing figures that could only be hobbits. "We came for the wedding, are we too late?" Merry and Pippin chorused, bowing clumsily to Thranduil and landing rather awkwardly in front of us. I beamed at them, offering my hand to Merry, which he kissed, and Pippin, which he shook rather strongly.
"Are we late?" Pippin enquired worriedly, and then, passing his eyes over the whole scene and my proximity to Legolas, nodded dumbly, answering his own question.
"I told you," Merry broke in, "I told you that Elves have the rather unsociable custom of marriage at dawn." He turned to me, an expression of such comical annoyance on his small, brown face that I could hardly stifle a laugh. "I told him that he would have to get up early but he refused to wake up, and he wanted his breakfast first."
"But I didn't get any," Pippin moaned, and I motioned him to a place on the table next to me. A couple of servants brought high stools that would allow the hobbits to reach the lofty table. Soon Merry and Pippin were devouring contentedly the rich food, Pippin especially demolishing the Elven-bread as if he had been starving all his life.
The twins appeared from nowhere; their smart new suits somewhat dishevelled, their unruly blond hair refusing to stay flat. Running up, they froze in their tracks, two identical puzzled frowns on their smooth brows. Pippin turned around, gazing intently at the two young Elves, "Hurrah, twins," he exclaimed, leaping off his stool and, after wiping a sticky hand on his breeches, held it out to each of the twins, who shook it tentatively, looking across at the brown, curly head that was so different from their sleek, blond ones – the forty year old hobbit the same height as the ten year old Elves. "Just like their father," he said mischievously pulling at their golden hair while the lads stood dumbstruck at him. "Never seen a hobbit then?" he asked jokingly as Estel sprung back to life, yanking the hobbit's chestnut curls in return, then dashing off, pulling his brother with him. Pippin rubbed his head, "Just like their mother," he sighed before he dashed after them.
Legolas half stood up, as if to join them, and then sat back down. "I am too old for this," he sighed, absentmindedly twirling a strand of his bright hair. "Oh no you're not," I rejoined, nudging him lightly, and he laughed, a young, silvery laugh that called an answering one from me. Soon we were overwhelmed by a fit of giggles and we clung weakly to each other, rubbing our aching sides, laughing until the tears ran down our cheeks. At last it ceased, and I noticed the puzzled, though happy glances from down the table, as well as one sad and scornful one. The scornful one was undoubtedly Aswen's and the sorrowful one, I was surprised to see, was Galadh. I walked down to her and hugged her, "What's wrong," I enquired solicitously, as a single tear dripped from under her lashes and trickled down her cheek." Nothing, nothing," she said, the crack in her voice betraying the lie. Then suddenly she burst out. "Why isn't he here? He found your children safe, the least you can do is invite him to your wedding."
I realised suddenly that she was missing Elrohir, and a glimmer of hope lit my heart as I realised that I could make some amends for my cruel treatment of him. "I asked him to come, but he said that it would drive him mad with jealousy if he saw me married, so he has gone away to see his brother in Rivendell." I realised, with a second tear that dripped warmly onto my hand that I had said the wrong thing, and, hugging her affectionately to make amends, I said." Doesn't mean that he won't love you. Patience pays off – I have my husband now after waiting many years for him. I'm sure that Elrohir will see that there are plenty more fish in the sea, eventually." I left before she could protest that she didn't love him, for I knew that she did.
The day passed in a haze of enjoyment, playing a rather precocious game of 'catch-up' with the hobbits, Aragorn, Arwen – and Gimli, who had turned up late as well. Both the hobbits were married, something that Aragorn found quite hilarious, "Well, of the nine of us, saving those that have died or gone to the Undying lands, we are all married men – apart from you Gimli" he laughed again. "I knew that I was going to be wedded form the start" he hugged his wife quickly, "and Samwise's was quite obvious, the way he spoke of that Rose. By the way, how is old Sam doing?"
"Famously. He is Lord Mayor, and with a large brood of delightful children, which is increasing rapidly," Merry interjected,
"But you, Legolas, confirmed bachelor for six thousand years and now married twice, well I never. And now the hobbits are married, it needs only Gimli!" Gimli turned his hairy face up to Aragorn, a face that looked rather bare without the helmet that he always wore, and in a voice of gruff sadness, said." No, someone out of us that are left must remain a bachelor. Don't you know that there are no dwarf women, and that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground?" I laughed, but my heart went out to that poor, gruff dwarf, who would never find love as I had found it, "By the way," Aragorn whispered elaborately, putting his mouth right up to my ear, "Gimli is actually in love, with Lady Galadriel!"
"What," I guffawed; I could hardly image anyone loving Aunt Galadriel, especially a dwarf. I was about to say so, when my comment was interrupted by the hasty arrival of Eldreth, Aswen's husband, who was a cousin of my Legolas. "Sorry to break up your merry gathering," he said, bowing at everyone save the dwarf, whom he glared at rather mistrustfully. "But the ground is ready and the music set for tonight's dancing, so if you will follow me," We followed him through the darkening wood to a large glade, glowing iridescently in the dark with numerous small, tinted lanterns that hung like garlands over the branches, bathing the glade with coloured light. A patch of short, soft grass had indeed been cleared for dancing, and on one side sat the minstrels practicing their tunes, their lutes, harps and flutes sending clear song into the cool, moonlit air. The glade was filled with the Elves of Mirkwood, paired off and waiting only for Legolas and me for the dancing to begin. He seized me by the hands and whirled me off. I had only time enough to call, "You said you were getting old," before I was fully immersed in the passion of the dance.
As the evening passed, the music slowed to a lilting, romantic melody that demanded close, tender dancing, the kind where you were pressed very near to your partner's body and were gazing intently into his eyes. As the last, long, lingering note faded into the starlit wood, and the gathered Elves began to disappear, my love and I walked slowly to our marriage bed.
Yet as I lay there in his arms, I heard, hardly audible on the fresh night breeze, a faint, tragic wail. "Legolas, Legolas, why have you forsaken me?" it seemed to say. With a start I realised that that plaintive cry was Vénea's, the supplication of an unquiet grave.