25.03. T.A. 3021/25.03. Fo.A. 0
Gondor had been filled with excitement about the imminent second celebration of the end of the war for weeks. This time, the occasion was supposed to be something very special. Not only because last year, the mood had been quite sober, due to all the problems in Minas Tirith and North Ithilien, but also because Aragorn had made a surprising announcement to his people a while ago. Simultaneously to this anniversary, a new Age on Middle-earth would begin. Such a change regarding all administrative and social issues, concerning all of Middle-earth, was a step that probably not everyone in the young and not yet entirely stable realm had expected from the King.
Which was exactly why Aragorn wanted to give this sign. The Age of Man had dawned, and after the victory over the Stewardaides at the beginning of the year, he could finally concentrate completely on governing a huge part of his folk. Except for a few stray groups and except for those who wanted to stay forever regardless of the danger of fading someday, the Elves had left Middle-earth. There were fewer of them every month dwelling in these realms. It was Men now who were supposed to lead the other folks; it had mostly been them who had won the last big war, and a man had achieved peace between the big realms. Now it was up to the folk of the Secondborn, too, to introduce the new time reckoning.
Besides, a period of unity had started in January that Gondor had rarely seen before. The big fight between Aragorn, his Steward, and the Lord of the elves of Cair Andros had been settled at last. In Ithilien, harmony finally prevailed again as well. The landscape was recovering from the war more and more. Many soldiers were traveling the rest of the realm and took care of reconstruction together with the citizens.
Two of the elves of Cair Andros accompanied them and used their magic for restoration and fertilization to happen in every place they visited. They trained men there so that they would be able to plow their fields and take care of their land more effectively and healthily in the future. That help that even breathed new life into particularly critical areas, bit by bit, was assuring people time and again that the problems between the two folks were gone for good.
The lands of Gondor finally shone in their old splendor. That made it easy, looking forward more to the celebration meant to represent the symbol for this turnaround by the day.
Maybe for the first time since he'd been a child, looking to the future did no longer fill Aragorn with doubt but with deep confidence.
Aragorn had a servant refill his wine mug for the second time tonight, trying to keep his enthusiastic smile. The day had been just as beautiful as he'd hoped, just a little too long.
Arwen and he had taken the effort of visiting all the rings and spending at least a few minutes at each of the festivities taking place around every corner, to signal the people how much they appreciated all that trust put in them by now. There had not been a single security issue in the streets. His children who were growing bigger and stronger every day had made it through the trip without a problem. He hadn't seen Arwen smile like this in a long time.
It also made him happy that so many of the guests invited had indeed shown up. With Éomer and the woman he'd got married to just a month earlier, for example, that wasn't something, Aragorn took for granted at all. Due to the delivery that had only happened so shortly ago, neither Legolas nor he had been able to attend the wedding, and neither had their wives; that had been hard for all of them. They had assured the King more than once that they would all have been there if Éomer had just waited a few months, but the whole thing had apparently had to happen quite quickly.
That instead, Éomer was sitting here amidst the Gondorians right now, with the Princess of Dol Amroth on his arm, an enchanting young aristocrat with black hair and olive skin, to celebrate such a crucial event far from his own country, was another proof for his efforts to unite the realms in friendship as deeply as possibly.
Aragorn would never forget that. His eyes repeatedly found the dark ones of the other King opposite of him that still looked slightly gloomy, probably due to old grief. Then they toasted to each other with a respectful nod. The end of the Stewardaides Crisis had also made the new strife between their people forgotten that the King's enemies had tried to cause. Their future together was safe now.
Under these signs, people had enjoyed it with all of their hearts when Aragorn had officially launched the new Age a few minutes ago. Men needed this day to look forward, needed to laugh about old worries, to look ahead. And they wanted to see their King feel the same.
Therefore, the thought of just taking his leave after his speech never entered Aragorn's mind. In his growing tiredness, he did envy Arwen a little though who had gone back to her chambers with the justified explanation that she still had to recover as often as possible.
Shaking off the lack of motivation with clenched teeth, he put down his mug and turned back to his courtly duties. He danced with Éowyn, with Éomer's wife, and with a few of the she-elves present and readily let Éomer or Faramir engage him in conversations again and again. After all, it was only a few evenings a year that he couldn't escape such events. Come tomorrow, he would have his little family all to himself again.
Knowing that at least one person in this hall could understand these feelings very well was a comfort. But in this regard, Aragorn was ahead of Legolas: He knew about a surprise for his friend that would make tonight's comparatively boring, mannish celebration a great deal more enjoyable for him.
Inconspicuously, Aragorn had been taking questioning looks at the hall's heavy double doors the whole time.
When next he looked up, one of the guards finally gave him the arranged signal.
Aragorn realized the secrecy wouldn't have been necessary – Legolas wasn't even in the room anymore.
"Excuse me for a minute." He said goodbye to his tablemates with a polite nod and headed straight for the terrace located on the Tower's inside.
Halfway there he slowed down with a smile. His thoughts had been somewhere else earlier. Taking a good look for the first time now, he was filled once more with the relief about his children, in spite of all the trouble, having been born into a world that no one would have thought possible just two years ago. People had lived with the shadow for too long before. A world in which an aging elf-friend could finally delight in a Firstborn's beauty again after quite a while, without any wistfulness …
Well, at least almost. Part of him would probably never completely get over the fact that it was one of the last members of this folk on Middle-earth that had sworn fealty to him.
Especially holding this position, and as a representative both of his own realm and, in a certain way, still of Eryn Lasgalen, though he'd renounced his title as a Prince in the course of the Stewardaides Crisis, Legolas didn't really have a choice but to put on some rather elegant clothes at official occasions. Aragorn couldn't help but think, that had been one of the reasons why Legolas had initially not been too enthusiastic about his father's idea of promoting him to a Lord. It wasn't only in this regard that the elf preferred simplicity. For example, there had surely been enough offers from elves and she-elves ready to get married in Eryn Lasgalen in the course of the millennia, but it had taken a Noldo of rare pureness and innocence first to conquer Legolas' heart.
These days, thanks to a decree of the house Oropherion, Tarisilya bore the title of the Princess of Eryn Lasgalen herself – that Thranduil had explicitly not wanted to deprive her of, in spite of Legolas' decision –, and the one of the Lady of Cair Andros on top of that. And she had adapted to that role faster than expected – in fact, faster than Aragorn had after his coronation. Though by now, there was almost no one left who could imagine the formerly completely nameless healer elf of Lórien to be anyone else than a representative by her husband's side … For his part, Aragorn in many a moment still saw the intimidated, depression-prone figure in his mind that had once grown so dear to his heart on their common journey west.
For Legolas, this development had come as a little surprise, and it had not always been pleasant for him. Aragorn could remember the icy glances exchanged between the lovers at his own wedding only too clearly. That night, you almost couldn't have believed them to be a couple; Tarisilya in her handcrafted dress from the tailor's shop of the Citadel, the bride's beaming friend … And her husband in what was basically a mourning color, pale and silent, his face marked by sharp lines of suspicion and continuous anger.
There was no trace of that shadow of a former Ring Companion left tonight. Aragorn was being welcomed with an honest, warm smile when Legolas heard his steps in spite of the evening wind whistling over the Citadel and turned around to him, in a flowing movement, with his arms still crossed behind his back. He was being faced with an elf fallen and refined, one no longer denying his roots and yet acting as an independent leader for his people. A leader wearing his circlet freely and with his head held high, no longer like the regalia of a far too big purpose but as a sign of a hard path towards his new life.
"Please forgive my absence, mellon. The beauty of the night has called for me." It had taken Legolas long to regain this calmness in his voice. The birth of his son, this product of his love for his wife so eagerly awaited, had calmed these waves as well. Legolas' slightly ancient Sindarin was once more sounding more melodic than even men like Aragorn who had been fluently speaking the Firstborn's language for decades could manage.
And it revealed the same melancholy that had been accompanying Aragorn since the celebration had begun.
"Do you seriously think I'm here to lecture you?" he asked, slightly amused.
"I guess not." His own too-eager obedience had Legolas chuckle. "But maybe you should or I might really get lost out here until the night ends."
"No one is asking you to even stay that long." Aragorn came to stand next to his friend. By now, he, fortunately, was having enough time again for an occasional pipe. He deliberately ignored Legolas' slightly tortured grimace. Not even Arwen had managed to talk him out of certain beloved habits; he wouldn't even start discussing them with his best friend.
"You already did all that was necessary. People were very happy to see you." He briefly nodded towards the glass doors leading inside, where several other elves from Legolas' settlement were talking to old acquaintances and many new friends. "If you prefer to ride back …"
"Nonsense. Now that I'm here, I should make the best of it." After another wistful glance at the starry sky, Legolas turned away, thereby casually escaping most of the pipe smoke, too.
"Besides, it would already be too late anyway. I'm sure, Ilya is already asleep. Getting up three times a night is exhausting. For both of us, by the way."
"Is that a little frustration I'm hearing?" A father of twins, Aragorn could only grin about such complaints in pity. Arwen and he would have been extremely grateful for only waking up three times a night. "Another cloud in the undimmed sky?"
It was supposed to be a joke; after all, it had been long since he'd seen Legolas so relaxed and content. But now, the elf's expression darkened visibly. Aragorn had accidentally touched a sore spot.
"Trouble, again, seriously?" he asked with a frown when Legolas didn't answer but absently stared down at the bright marble floor.
"Of course not." This time, the laugh didn't sound as honest. "The past is still weighing down on Ilya and me, but it's become a shadow that we no longer live in. I have the most wonderful wife any elf could wish for. The Valar have blessed our connection with a glistening ray of sun in the shape of our child. I even have a feeling that I've finally found a kind of peace with my father that we never shared before. And I am allowed to see this world that I have always fought for thrive again. Everything's almost too perfect."
Even while Legolas was saying it, his hands clenched behind his back. The restless tension filled his body again that didn't seem to fit this relaxed new appearance at all. Carefulness, mistrust, even here, among friends. And first and foremost, a lot of fear.
"Not all that is good is inevitably meant to break." It wasn't like Aragorn couldn't understand this worry – on the contrary. But tonight, he could gladly have done without the memory of how much he'd already lost in his life and that it could happen again and again, no matter how well you protected your happiness. "Does someone who's seen so many more summers really need me to tell him that?"
"I'm old, not experienced," Legolas said leniently, shaking his head. "By elvish standards, I should be grateful, they're considering me mature enough to lead my own realm. I spent most of my life in my woods because my father was too afraid to have to let go of me as well after he'd just lost his father and my mother. This world is still very new to me. So maybe me, I am indeed too inexperienced to be allowed judging destiny's ways. But many others have done so. Among them, the three elves who taught me the most, be it the wisdom of Ages, iron combat power, or being cautious because even among the Firstborn, there's still some weakness for the darkness. Just look where these three people are right now."
"I can understand your father, Legolas, and I understand Glorfindel. I can even understand Erestor a little." Now it was Aragorn, turning his eyes to the sky. He wondered if the librarian had considered what his life's work could be bringing about in the circles of the elves before he had given it to Tarisilya back then. To someone who – no matter by which standards – was definitely still too young for it.
"But on some days, you are still a riddle to me. Ilya deserves it that you're finally being unconditionally happy with her. She's waited for it long enough."
"That's exactly what I want." Legolas visibly pulled himself together, shaking himself a little. "We probably just need an evening solely for ourselves for once, to finally talk to each other at length again. I still don't have enough time for her. Sometimes I'm afraid, I'll come back from some meeting or a journey and she'll just be gone because I couldn't be there for her for so long."
Aragorn just grinned and looked back at the hall again, at the guard who gave him another sign. "I think, Ilya has other ways to fight for more attention from you."
"Her Highness, the Princess of Eryn Lasgalen, Lady of Cair Andros." Verilas' solemn introduction made it needless for Aragorn to reveal who would enter the hall in a second.
He raised his hands apologetically when Legolas spun around to him slightly furious. "She made me swear not to say a single word. She wanted to make you happy. I think you two can take care of the rest alone." Since Legolas still looked a little blindsided by the situation, he put a hand on his back and pushed him towards the door.
That was all it took, especially since Legolas could finally lay eyes on his wife now. The annoyance that Tarisilya had just followed him to Minas Tirith without his knowledge subsided immediately because contrary to his initial fear, she wasn't alone. What remained was amazement, admiration, and a hint of pride. Legolas visibly had to stop himself from running there immediately and fiercely embrace his wife in front of everyone. Another thing that etiquette forbade, which was visibly hard for him.
Tarisilya's bodyguard took his duty as seriously as ever; he, too, made no move to approach his leader any faster. Even on such a comparatively harmless trip and right here, in the celebration hall, he was wearing the golden armor of Gondolin. The shield by his side completed the image of an ever-watchful warrior safely escorting his Lady and cousin, and people unaware of it wouldn't have guessed the handicap it was hiding.
Aragorn noticed immediately that the son of his former teacher seemed unusually relaxed as well. He even showed a faint smile every now and then. The honest, brotherly love between Tarisilya and him was the only thing disturbing this strict aura of an unapproachable protector by his Princess' side.
When both of them were beaming like this, the vague similarity between them was also hard to ignore. Not all secrets of the past unexpectedly uncovered meant bad things.
Still, Thondrar was visibly relieved when he could leave his charge with her husband halfway to the terrace. In this regard, he and his father were quite alike. Big celebrations of this kind were a necessary inconvenience best to be avoided. And it was better to escape before one of the usual drunk attempts of some women or men of the court to get to know an elf better could possibly happen. As far as Aragorn was informed, there was someone in the elf settlement as of late who wouldn't have appreciated such advances at all anyway …
"I'll take my leave. I'm expected back at Cair Andros." Thondrar lightly bowed to Legolas, but his leader had basically only eyes for his wife and just regarded him with a slightly absent, wordless nod.
Which was the necessary hint for Aragorn to remember his own duties again. He signaled the musicians who had gone silent for the brief reverence, that they could play a new song and followed Legolas to greet Tarisilya as well and give her a well-deserved compliment, once the healer in him had made sure with close looks that had long become his second nature that she was still recovering well after her move to Cair Andros. Yes, the she-elf had definitely adapted to the love for big entrances running in the Oropherion family by now.
Such a festivity demanded of Tarisilya just as many special efforts regarding her looks as of her husband. Though Aragorn would have agreed immediately if Legolas said, she surely didn't need that, there was no denying that a little splendor suited the she-elf perfectly.
If Aragorn hadn't personally helped with the delivery, he probably wouldn't have believed this delicate figure to have given birth just two and a half months ago. Since Tarisilya had hardly put on any weight during her pregnancy, she looked almost like she had before by now, thanks to the elves' enhanced healing factor. The wide skirt of her red dress concealed her hips that had become slightly broader. The silver, entwined chains serving as a belt hid it cleverly that her belly under her top was still slightly curved. With the corset seam running right across the top of her chest, it drew attention to her curves also having become slightly fuller – another of these normal changes that female elvish bodies – usually more on the scrawny side – were going through after pregnancy, albeit less noticeable than Aragorn had seen it with other Firstborn in the course of the decades. Her fragile physique that had endangered Tarisilya so much not too long ago, was not going anywhere. And Aragorn hoped that in time, she would be able to cope with that better, in case she and her husband would decide at some point that there shouldn't be only one baby.
But tonight, Aragorn didn't want them to waste any thought on that again. Tonight should only be about finally being able to celebrate their love without fears again, and Tarisilya couldn't have shown Legolas this any more clearly. Her hair fell far past her hips, a loose, brunette mane, without braids or other adornments, safe for a number of identical glistening, crescent-shaped clips – surely the most lavish gift that Legolas had ever given to his wife. There could not have been a better evening to wear these jewels for the first time.
But none of that sparkle could shine brighter than Tarisilya's smile when Legolas pulled her in his arms in view of all the guests and kissed her.
Well, so much for etiquette.
"You are crazy." Legolas had to hide a small tear on his cheek by burying his face in Tarisilya's hair for a moment. "I thought you didn't want that yet …"
"What I want is to be with you," his wife interrupted him gently. "I belong to your settlement and by your side just like the others."
"Cyron?" Somewhat belatedly and only reluctantly, Legolas backed away a little from Tarisilya to breathe a kiss on her knuckles.
"With Tauriel. Since her little one does no longer need her all the time, she can take care of both of them for a few hours. And with her still breastfeeding from time to time, she can supply him without a problem. The childminder is with them, too; he's settling down better by the day."
Once Tarisilya had addressed these concerns too, she turned to Aragorn who had waited in the background discreetly. "Your Majesty …" It was weird, suddenly having to use this necessary, polite form of address again though they had all been on first-name basis for a while now. Definitely something none of them would miss in everyday life.
It took her quite a while before all obligatory greeting rituals were completed. By the time, Tarisilya finally sat down next to Legolas at Aragorn's table, he was being quite impatient already. Faramir had been nice enough to vacate his chair for her.
"Arwen and the little ones?" Since the delivery, that was always the first thing Tarisilya wanted to know from her husband when it came to Minas Tirith. All these weeks of fear weren't forgotten yet.
"The twins have grown a lot again since we last saw them. They're also with their wet nurse and with Ranír. The Queen is already asleep. Today has been a little much for her after all. Is the settlement still standing?"
Legolas' question was only meant half-serious, therefore, Tarisilya allowed herself to answer just as teasingly. "I think, Camhanar really begins to enjoy his role as substitute leader. You and Thondrar should be gone more often. You're not as irreplaceable as you think, Thranduilion."
"I'm not?" Legolas feigned offense, staring into his wine glass, but Tarisilya could see a challenging sparkle in his eyes. "Does that mean, I can leave you here with our friends and take a walk in the yard? I've been meaning to stretch my legs for an hour."
"Don't you dare!"
And yet Tarisilya was lost in conversations with their tablemates quickly then.
Éowyn in particular whom she hadn't been seeing for quite a while, wanted to know a lot about life in the settlement and Cyron's development. The unpleasant fights the two of them had often had in the past, were forgotten. And Tarisilya giving the young Rohiril a piece of mind every now and then seemed to have done its job. If you remembered that scraggy, haggard shape that had used to be Éowyn even at her own wedding, it was hard to believe that this vibrant, sun-kissed woman with the endlessly light blonde curls and the bright laughter was the same person. Since her husband was spending far more time with her than he'd used to, her last frustrated brusqueness was gone; her curiosity especially regarding Tarisilya's and Legolas' baby sounded honest and warm.
Therefore, Tarisilya didn't have the heart to flee the conversation right away. There would be enough time for her husband later.
And in the meantime, Legolas didn't pull his arm off her waist for even a second.
Only when he became quieter and quieter at some point, she turned her head to him questioningly and was being regarded with an undefinable expression. Was the good mod already at an end? Only when Legolas repeatedly looked at the crowd on the small floor near the musicians, it dawned on her what was going on in him.
"Interested or scared to death? I would suppose, a Prince learns how to dance at some point in his long life?"
"Please tell me I'm wrong." He didn't manage to show more than a weak grin. "Have we really never danced? Not once?"
"We just never got a chance." She fleetingly brushed back a few strands of hair behind his circlet and let her fingertips rest on his cheek. "Let us not grieve the past again, elwen. Not tonight. We have so much time."
"Why don't we make the best of it then?" His lips grazed her palm for a moment, then Legolas turned to Aragorn with a cautious grin.
"I think the King has entertained his guests long enough, mellon. Isn't there someone waiting for you?"
"Unfortunately, that's not so easy." Aragorn was wise enough to lower his voice to a volume only audible for elves so that no one could hear the slightly disrespectful remark. "Even if I manage to say goodbye to the people at this table, by the time I make it out the door, it will be dawn."
"Do you know nothing about your old Companion's skills?"
Legolas leaned closer to Verilas. "Would you please raise your voice for us once more? The King looks a little weary. He should better lay down so that he can be back to full strength tomorrow."
Aragorn's first advisor just gaped at him for a moment. He quickly pulled himself together again though and shook his head in determination. "No, no, there's no way we can do that. My job is to motivate His Majesty to do his duty, not to cover for him at such an important celebration."
When Legolas and Tarisilya looked at each other in disappointment, a smile spread on Verilas' face, marked by the continuous deep worries about his realm. His hands that a slowly progressing sickness of age had constantly shaking slightly, closed around his wine mug and a fork just as a precaution, in case there would indeed be a few more regulatory words needed soon. "But of course, my eyes can't be everywhere at once. So in the unlikely case of His Majesty leaving the hall indeed, I guess a foolish old man like me will be able to come up with the right sentences to explain that."
Legolas smiled at him gratefully before getting up and bowing slightly to Tarisilya. "Forgive me, elwen. I don't know how people ask a lady for a dance in your realm."
"My realm no longer exists." Tarisilya managed to lock away the pain about this fact becoming more adamant by the month in her heart and accompanied her husband to the dancefloor. "And you left yours behind. Why don't we come up with all new traditions?"
She took a moment to get lost in that piece of music novel and fast to her ears and then let Legolas fully take the lead then. It took them a while until they had adapted to each other's movement and remembered long distant lessons of this kind.
But Tarisilya soon began to feel comfortable in Legolas' arms, and also free, as the lights of the torches on the wall passed her by faster and faster. It was a relief that in spite of all the troubles in the past, they were instinctively still such a good match. The touch of his body so close to hers was a whole different nearness than dancing with her father or Tegiend at celebrations in Caras Galadhon back then. Legolas' warmth, his well-known, tender scent of woods and resin, his gracile movements … This moment at least belonged only to them as if they were still very young, free of all burden and meeting on a clearing at the borders of Lórien in secret.
Only they were no longer young and these timid feelings had long become something much more meaningful. And these days, furtive touches often caused slowly rising heat. The enthusiastic faces in the audience and the music blurred in the background more and more as the yearning came back that had brought Tarisilya to the capital in the first place. People wouldn't only be looking for Aragorn in vain soon …
But for now, she had to hold back. Given how much attention they attracted right now, not even a tiny kiss would have been appropriate. So she rested her head on Legolas' shoulder with a sigh and nestled comfortably against the soft velvet of his robe. "By the way … white?"
"Huh?" Being just as lost in thought as she was, Legolas needed a moment to understand the question. "I've always been wearing a lot of white. That would just have been impractical in the last few years of traveling. But this is my father's work if that's what you mean." With a little grimace, he looked down on himself, at the number of symbols and crystal adornments sewn onto the robe. The one of the newly divided realms of Eryn Lasgalen stood out in particular. "He just can't help himself."
"Maybe he shouldn't. It is still your home. And Cyron and I are part of your family. That should not be completely forgotten, especially not since Cyron might get involved in government matters at least for the sake of form someday. Besides, it suits you." As inconspicuously as possible, Tarisilya let her hand wander a little further up Legolas' arm and moved her fingertips from his high collar to his neck. Feeling the slight shivers on his skin pleased her, and she did her best to keep an innocent expression.
"His Majesty has just left the hall, by the way. What do you think, how long will it take you to get the two of us to our chambers as well?"
"Is that a challenge?" Even after all this time, that rough, suggestive tone in Legolas' voice still managed to make her blush.
In the end, Tarisilya's visit to the celebration hall lasted a lot shorter than initially expected.
