Calmacil greeted Aragorn warmly, and was greeted so by him. "A good journey, my lord?" he asked.
Aragorn smiled faintly and nodded. "Uneventful," he said, in the tone of one who knows events at such a time are rarely good, boring as it may sound to anyone who did not understand that.
Calmacil nodded and looked around. "And the girl?" he asked.
Aragorn frowned at him. "She does not desire to marry."
"As you warned," Calmacil agreed, sure he could change her mind if given a chance. "Where is she?" He wanted a look at his future bride.
"Probably in the gardens," Aragorn murmured, his tone amused even as he seemed to grow troubled.
"You will point her out to me, introduce us?"
"If she is alone, I shall. If not, another time will suffice. After such a trip, it would be more fitting for her to be allowed rest."
Calmacil nodded absently in agreement but had already begun walking to the arched doorway. Beyond they could see the whole of the gardens. At first glance, all he saw was an elf couple. Then the she-elf turned towards her companion, stopping them at a bench. She sat down and pulled her knees to her chest as the male elf sat beside her. He reached out and brushed his thumbs over her eyes, then tucked her hair behind her ears.
Calmacil started. "That is her?" he asked, seeing the rounded ears.
"Lunian is her name," Aragorn murmured, watching the elf beside her with an unreadable look. "Another time you can meet her. Leave them be for now."
"And why should I?" he snapped, seeing the close way the elf sat beside his future bride. "Who is he, anyway?"
Aragorn sighed softly. "He is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, elf of the fellowship, and as dear to me as my brothers. Another time will suffice, Calmacil," Aragorn insisted.
Calmacil winced at the tone. "Of course, sire." Still, he remained where he was, feeling rather territorial the longer he watched the elf hone in on his woman.
She would be his, after all. The arrangement had been made. Elrond had made the match. The blond woman would become his wife.
He would be sure of that.
He tilted his head to study her, ignoring the elf. She was a little older than he would have expected, but that was an advantage. She would know more of the world than a younger woman would, and she wouldn't need to be taught and cajoled as much.
Her hair was a beautiful honey brown, long and obviously light, seeing as how the soft breeze about them lifted it in radiant tendrils to caress the air. From where he was he didn't know what color her eyes were, but her face was fair. Strong, but beautiful.
She would bear fine children. Her body was curved just how a woman's should be if they were to carry and nurse several children. Her hips were wide, her body thin but strong, her breasts a little on the small side, but adequate for nursing their children.
Yes, she would be his wife.
Anger swamped him as the elf rose, blocking his view of his woman.
Then a calmness washed over him. The elf could do whatever he pleased, because in the end, he would have her. And the dear prince could go jump off a cliff if he didn't like it.
His lip curled up in something that wasn't quite a smile.
Maybe the elf could be helped to that cliff…
A soft chuckle accompanied the dark thought, before a quirky grin twisted the lean mouth. Not that he would ever physically harm a friend of his King's.
No, the other ways were best.