"Here, now this one!" laughed Éowyn handing Enguina a tied-up package. The elf rolled her eyes as Arwen, seated on the floor, leaned her back against the divan. "You will love this one."

"Honestly! What did the two of you do?" she asked as she began untying the string around the heavy paper. "Did you buy out every seller in Minas Tirith? You did not have to do this!"

"Yes, we did," Éowyn replied. "Am I right, Arwen?"

"Éowyn is right; it is tradition," Arwen added.

Enguina rolled her eyes. "No one did this for either of you."

"To be honest," Éowyn replied, "Arwen and I were fairly good friends by that time, and she did supply me with several perfect gifts at the time."

Arwen smiled. "It is tradition for the friends of the bride to throw her a party and shower her with gifts that she would not buy herself and so prepare her for married life. Obviously, you and Legolas will not be moving to Ithilien immediately, but when you do, we will bring gifts there as well."

"Just as it is tradition for the men to be doing so for Legolas," Éowyn said with a little grin as she heard Enguina gasp. The elf lifted the gown from the packaging and stared at it, feeling the fabric.

"Oh Ilúvatar, this is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen…" Shimmering green and flowing, the material would match her eyes and be very comfortable. "It is a bit…low…is it not?" She asked, peeking around it with a light blush on her face.

Éowyn laughed gaily. "Of course it is! It is as much for you as it is for Legolas! It should take his feet right out from beneath him…and land him in your bed!" She giggled and Enguina rolled her eyes again, shaking her head.

"As if he needs encouragement."

"Well, you want to make the evenings special every once in a while, do you not?" she asked innocently. "You would never buy any of these things yourself, you know."

"No, you are right," she admitted. "And I would not be thinking about something such as that right now. I am trying to think of surviving my wedding night, not making myself out to be a tempting morsel."

Éowyn gaped at her, unable to laugh at what she said for worry over the rest of what she had said. "What do you mean 'surviving' it? Not enjoying it?" she asked in a horrified voice.

Enguina looked uncomfortable and glanced at Arwen for aid, but she was clearly not looking at her on purpose. Very helpful, Arwen! "Éowyn, I…am looking forward to it; I know I will enjoy it…but I am…"

"Nervous? Even a bit frightened?" she asked.

Enguina blushed. "Yes."

"Do not worry!" she laughed again. "We will get to that!" She sighed. "I was afraid you were—I do not know! I could not possibly imagine you not wanting Legolas! He is so handsome and good…"

"What are we getting to?" Enguina asked, distracted. Éowyn waved a hand at her and then rested it against the baby within her, wincing. Enguina reached forward, startled. "Are you all right?"

"Fine, fine…just rough kicking." She smiled wryly. "I am being abused by this child…it is almost definitely a boy." Arwen laughed and Enguina smiled, her worry dissipating.

"I thought perhaps we were going to have to rush you to the Houses," she sighed. She glanced around her at all the gifts and shook her head. "You two…some of these are so expensive! This is too much!"

"We probably should have had you unwrap things at your house," Éowyn said with a giggle. "Then we would not have had to carry it all over when we are done."

"How in the world will I ever decide what to wear?"

"Well, you will not be wearing any of them your wedding night," Éowyn replied, glancing at the gifts. "Though they are so lovely, Legolas is going to love them all."

"Why not?" Enguina asked, surprised. "Why would I not wear any of them?"

"A few reasons to be honest," Arwen said. "First, the wedding dress is extremely uncomfortable to get off and usually cannot be done on your own. Which means—"

"Legolas is going to have to help you take it off," interrupted Éowyn, "just as our husbands did for us. Faramir had mine off in a sum total of fifteen seconds. Though I have never asked anyone, I think that is a record." She laughed. "What about you, Arwen?"

"Oh…it was a process," she replied softly, suddenly very interested in her fingernails.

"A process? What does that mean?" Éowyn asked slyly, leaning forward and raising her eyebrows. "Do tell, Arwen."

Enguina studied her face. "Perhaps I should ask—"

"No, no," she said, lifting her eyes to her face. "I was just thinking, that is all. I only meant that the dress had to come off in stages. It was not very simple and I was…incredibly nervous. We both were." She gave Enguina a smile. "The other reason is because no matter what you have on, it is going to matter very little. Your wedding night is for the two of you to enjoy each other, and Legolas is not going to be thinking about what you are wearing."

"No, he is going to be thinking about you not wearing anything," laughed Éowyn. "So it would be a little lost on him, and a waste of your time, to attempt to wear one of these on your wedding night."

Enguina smiled while she blushed. "I…think I might agree with Arwen. A huge part of me, even more than I expected, is looking forward to giving myself to him," she said honestly, "but the other part is terrified."

"What is the part that terrifies you?" Éowyn asked softly, reaching out and taking her hands. "Is it simply fear of the unknown, because you have never been touched by a man?" Enguina's blush deepened and Éowyn thought her embarrassed by her words. "Enguina, Arwen and I were both virgins once, untouched by men." She squeezed Enguina's fingers in hers. "It is natural to be afraid in a situation like this, even when you desire it to happen."

"I…do desire him," she admitted softly.

"Of course you do. In the beginning, when both of you are unsure, uncertain, everything goes slowly…not smoothly, but slowly. You have to learn each other, explore each other. Let it be natural, Enguina. Do not rush your first night together." She smiled. "Sometimes I think about my first night with Faramir and I wish it had been a bit longer. We were very eager for each other," she admitted. "It was wonderful, but…we are much better lovers now than we were before six years of marriage. Time makes love-making more beautiful, so just…take as long as you want." She glanced at Arwen. "Would you agree with that advice?"

"Definitely," she said softly, nodding. "I cannot say that I wish the night was longer, for our love-making lasted all night. Everything was slow; I was so…afraid. I could not speak to anyone about what to expect; I could not have spoken to my father, and I did not know anyone aside from my kin. I was essentially alone here in Minas Tirith. It all happened so fast; I arrived, and the next day we were wed, and we found ourselves walking to the King's House alone and…" She shook her head. "Aragorn knew how frightened I was, and that it was not him I was afraid of," she said, looking pointedly at Enguina, "it was the act itself, and that I would not…"

"I remember what you said. That you would not please him," she replied softly. "I am not sure…I do not think that I am worried about that. I think it is the act itself that is frightening to me."

"It is the letting go," Arwen whispered and Éowyn nodded, agreeing silently. "It is the thought of baring your soul that way to another, letting that person touch you, and touching them, in such an intimate way. You must…give something up to your husband, give yourself up…" She hesitated and Éowyn spoke up.

"In that moment of bliss, the moments of pleasure you will experience with Legolas," she said gently, "will be when you are at your weakest. It is a moment of submission to your husband, and his submission to you, a certain…breathlessness, that cannot be explained or described. Love-making is exhausting, Enguina. It takes everything you are, and everything Legolas is, and brings you together, to something that is unique and beautiful. Anything that requires you to give a part of yourself, to bare your soul to another in such a way is exhausting. There is nothing equal to it."

"It sounds so wonderful, yet…so frightening," Enguina whispered. "Were you as afraid the second time as you were the first?"

"I was not afraid of Faramir," Éowyn replied. "Remember, I was eager for him. I would say the second time we were more ready for what we were doing. We understood. Everyone knows what to do when they love, but no one knows exactly how to do it." She shook her head. "We figured it out after a little while." Enguina turned her head to look over to Arwen.

"You do not have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable."

"It does not; I simply need to think," she sighed. "The second time was not long after the first, and no…there was no fear of not pleasing him, not after you have already pleased each other. No, from there it can only get better."

"Does…" Enguina began, her voice a whisper, and she had to still her hands to keep from reaching for her abdomen, "does it always hurt?" The memory of the pain was still so strong.

Éowyn squeezed her hands again. "It does hurt the first time, but it is only for a moment," she said softly. "There is no reason not to tell you, but if you are ready for it you will be fine. After those first few moments, it becomes easier. But, that is one of the reasons you should take your time. Love-making is easier if it takes a bit longer. Every once in a while it may be a bit more difficult than others, but the first time is the most difficult; I have never had any pain since the first time, and…I barely remember it now. Your body will prepare you when Legolas begins to touch you." She nodded. "Everything will be all right."

Arwen was silent, and Enguina and Éowyn both looked at her. "You are deep in thought, Arwen," Éowyn said gently. "Is there something you wanted to say? Did I miss something?"

"No, I…my experience is a little different, but…I do not know, as I have never had cause to talk to anyone about this before. Éowyn and I have never spoken about these things and I have never talked to another female about…" She shook her head. "Every time Aragorn and I are together there is…some pain…sometimes worse than others."

"Every time?" repeated Éowyn, staring at her.

"I should not…explain. I would prefer not to…"

"What you say will not frighten me any more or less," Enguina stated. "Anything you can tell me will be useful, will help prepare me."

"I do not know if it is me…if it is our race…I do not know, Enguina," she sighed. "There have been times when I have cried out from the pain. It is not continuous; it goes away in moments, but it happens. I…think this is me…but I do not know. Love-making for us is almost always slow," she added softly, "so it is not that I am unprepared. It simply happens. It feels like every time we are together it is the first time." She looked into Enguina's face. "But I do not believe this will happen with you; I believe you will be just fine."

"Yet you still…" Enguina shook her head. "I do not think I would want to…do something if it were to bring me pain each time. I do not think I would."

Arwen shook her head. "I cannot explain; forgive me."

Éowyn patted Enguina's hands. "Darling, when you have been with Legolas, only then will you understand. Then, you can tell us if that few seconds of pain is worth it."

Arwen reached out and handed Enguina one more package. "I forgot; this is also for you." Enguina smiled and unwrapped it to uncover a simple, but flowing sky-colored dress. The fabric was light and soft, a true summer dress and Enguina marveled at how lovely it was. Éowyn reached out to touch it.

"My god, it is so simple and so striking at the same time. Feel the fabric! Arwen, were did you get this dress? I have not seen anything finer in all of Minas Tirith!"

"The fabric is from Rivendell," Arwen said, "and I made the dress myself."

"You made this?" Enguina gasped. "When?"

"When you told me that you and Legolas were bound to one another," she replied as the two of them kept touching the dress. "I wanted you to have something special that you could wear the day after the wedding, or whenever you decide to appear, and it kept me busy when I was…recovering. Consider it your after-wedding dress."

"But the color—"

"I dyed the fabric myself," she added. "I wanted to make it very special."

"It is," Enguina replied, "because you made this with your own hands. Oh, Ilúvatar has blessed me with two of the most wonderful friends. How can I ever thank you?"

"If I stop looking like the broad side of a barn, do you think you can make me one?" asked Éowyn, and the three of them laughed together.

"Oh Éowyn, you are beautiful!" Arwen told her, rolling her eyes. "Does Faramir not tell you enough?"

"Every morning when he sees my face and runs his hands along my belly," she laughed as well. "But I do not know if I can trust his word. He sees what he wants to see. If I ever stop having children, maybe I will return to my normal size."

Enguina giggled. "Legolas wants to have twelve children."

"Really?" asked Arwen in surprise.

"He said he wants to have to feed a small army every night at dinner," she laughed as she rolled her eyes. Éowyn burst out laughing and then shook her head.

"That sounds like Legolas. The next time he says such nonsense," she added, "tell him that when he can bear them into the world, that is when you will have twelve. Honestly, men are so…thoughtless, sometimes."

"I did not realize he was being thoughtless," Enguina said, smiling. "I thought he was simply stating he wanted many. Personally, I do not care how many as long as we have at least one. Is it difficult to bring a child into the world?"

Éowyn hesitated. "Um…imagine you are being gutted…someone is reaching inside you and making those insides become your outsides. That is essentially what it is like."

"Oh, Éowyn," muttered Arwen, disgusted as she saw the look on Enguina's face.

"I was trying to answer her question!" Éowyn cried. "And be honest at the same time!" She turned back to Enguina. "There were complications with Annî's birth, but honestly, people will tell you that you will not remember the pain when you see that adorable face." She shook her head. "That is not true. What they mean to say is that the pain you will go through will be worth it as soon as you see that little face. That is the truth."

"Enguina," Arwen said, "Annî was backwards when she was born; babies are supposed to turn so that their head is first, so they can breathe, but Annî's feet were first. She could have been strangled by the cord during the rest of the birth and by the time she would have appeared, she could have died."

"Oh no," Enguina whispered, "that is awful. What happened?"

"Aragorn came and helped me, thank Eru," Éowyn said with a sigh.

Enguina shook her head. "I am amazed by the number of things Aragorn knows when he is only a man. He is as learned as an elf!"

"What Faramir discovered afterwards was that Aragorn had only ever helped a mare give birth," giggled Éowyn, "not a person. But she was in dire condition and…well, it worked!" She then smiled wistfully, rubbing her abdomen. "I shall never forget the look on his face after the last push, when the baby was in his hands." She closed her eyes and smiled, swallowing hard. "Forgive me; it brings tears to my eyes when I think of it. And then Faramir was there and we were holding Annî and stroking her bright red hair, and everything was right with the world."

Enguina sighed. "I cannot wait to have children…to see what their faces will be like, a mixture of Legolas and myself…"

"How beautiful," agreed Éowyn. "But if you are really curious, I would be more than happy to let you be there when this baby is born." Enguina's eyes widened.

"No, really?"

"Yes. I would love it if you were there," she said and Enguina smiled.

"I will think about it. Thank you, Éowyn."

"Anything to settle Faramir down!" she laughed, beginning to crumble up the discarded wrappings that were laying around Arwen's sitting room.

Enguina glanced about. "Is there anything else for me to open?"

"Ha!" Éowyn scoffed, and threw the crumpled packaging of the dress in her face.

Enguina laughed and brushed it away. "I suppose that is a no!"

Éowyn gave her a devilish smile. "I have a question for you, Enguina."

"You do?" she asked with surprise, wondering where this was going.

"But I will not ask unless you promise to answer…and tell the truth."

She cringed. "Um…I am not sure I am willing to do that."

"Oh come on! It is not too embarrassing, I promise."

"Oh, very well. What is your question?"

"You are four days before the wedding. I know you said you were nervous about being with Legolas, but…how close have you already come to giving in to your desire for him?"

"Éowyn!" cried Arwen, reaching out to smack her. "That is so—"

"Inappropriate?" supplied Enguina. "As if the rest of the things we have been talking about are appropriate."

"I was asking because I wanted to see if she was worse than me," Éowyn laughed.

"I promised I would answer," Enguina sighed, rubbing the blush from her face. "I know you cannot answer, Arwen, because you and Aragorn never came close—"

"That was why I did not ask her," Éowyn said with a grin. "So…how close did you come to giving into the always desirable Legolas?"

Enguina raised her eyebrows at her. "Careful, Éowyn; I think I am a very jealous lover."

Éowyn laughed. "Forgive me, Enguina, but I cannot help that Legolas is very handsome. He has always been desirable, and you are bound to find that he gets a lot of looks around here in Minas Tirith."

She rolled her eyes. "I noticed."

"Now, spill," Éowyn probed. "Tell me when and what happened."

Enguina sighed, low and long. "Last night." She could not look at Arwen's eyes, knowing she would not approve.

"Last—really?" Éowyn giggled. "Come now, what happened."

"I…um…Legolas and I were in the sitting room and…" She could not tell the truth, so she had to make pieces of this story up. "Well, one thing led to another and there were too many hands…too much touching and far lengthier kissing than there should have been." She blushed. "It was…hard to stop," she admitted.

"Did it just happen or did Legolas initiate?"

"Actually, I did. It was my self-control that was in question."

Éowyn laughed. "And you are worried about your wedding night? Mine was the night Faramir and I bound ourselves to each other. Everyone was taking their leave from Edoras to travel to their respective homes and we had just gone out on our own to sit quietly together. I remember the night near Meduseld; the stars so bright and everything was simply right. I had wished that we could have been wed that day, when everyone was gathered, but no. Instead there were wandering hands and kissing on skin that was not lips. He was so carried away…and so was I, but I had to stop him." She grinned. "What I did not tell him was that I was too nervous! I was afraid Éomer would catch us and kill him."

Enguina laughed as she looked at Arwen. "Are you going to chastise me, mother?" she teased.

Arwen shook her head. "You stopped yourselves…that is what matters. You know what is right and wrong." She sighed. "The only thing I can add to the tales you are telling is that I sat in the shadow of the wall with him, as far away from the chaos as we could get—he was the King you know—and found a patch of heaven where we could study one another forever." She smiled at Enguina. "You know, you talk of wandering hands and kissing…but I would tell you of eyes and words. In the light of that dawn I was laying against his chest thinking of nothing but being with him, of giving myself to him. He touched my face and looked down into my eyes and whispered that I was the most beautiful thing in Middle-Earth, and that the light on my face was like the sun shining on his soul, bringing him out of a great darkness. That marrying me would be the beginning of his life, as though the last years and the trials and the hardships that he had to face did not matter. He said that it was only five more hours until he could give himself to me, until we were together for eternity."

"That is so romantic," Éowyn sighed.

"Legolas is so good with words," Enguina said to agree. "I am so easily moved by him."

"He will move you as much as he likes once you are wed," Éowyn teased. "You know, Enguina, once you have some experience, do not be afraid to take charge. There will be times when you will desire him and it will be your idea…some of those times are the most fun. Eventually, the bedroom may become normal…and that is the time to go elsewhere, to liven things up a bit."

Enguina blushed. "You mean that you…make love in other rooms?"

Éowyn chuckled and leaned forward conspiratorially, "Faramir and I have made love in every room in our house." Arwen burst out laughing as Enguina's face turned bright red.

"What?" she choked out and Éowyn laughed.

"Yes, every room…and several other places as well." She looked thoughtful. "If I was good with time, and I may not be…I would say Annî was conceived on our dining room table." Enguina gaped at her.

"And that is why we do not usually eat dinner at Faramir's house!" laughed Arwen and the three of them lost themselves to hysterical giggles.

"No, honestly," Éowyn laughed, "Faramir and I have made love in the stables, which was terribly bad because he had a reaction to the hay, and also in the Tower of Ecthelion." Enguina stared at her when she did not seem remotely remorseful. "You will see," Éowyn told her. "You will find out that not every moment you have thought to love your husband is in a perfect place. We were caught in Ecthelion." Enguina gasped and she laughed suddenly. "God, I will never forget the look on the poor maid's face!"

"Oh, Éowyn that is downright awful," Arwen said. "You should not be telling her such things!"

"Were you and Aragorn ever…discovered?" Enguina asked more boldly, gaining strength from Éowyn's remarks. "Or have you only ever been here?"

"Wherever Aragorn and I go, Enguina, there are eyes," she said, rolling her eyes. "Yes, Faramir is the Prince of Ithilien, but they are not quite as watched as we are. That is one of the reasons why we keep our love out of the public eye. Love-making is for you and Legolas, not for everyone else." She sighed. "Aragorn and I have made love in other places, but only when we knew for certain we were alone. The Anduin is one of the most beautiful, under the sycamores, the soft grass…" She drifted off, thinking.

"So you have never been caught," Éowyn said with a laugh. "Well, that is no fun."

"Only once, in the first month of our marriage," she said softly. "It was awful…it was here, in our own bed. It was a time when Aragorn…well, when it was painful for me. I cried out so loud the guards outside thought I was being attacked."

"Oh Lord!" cried Éowyn. "You were serious about the pain."

"It was..." she hesitated, and then ploughed on. "The guard came running into the House and Aragorn covered us as quickly as possible. He was trying to explain the man away, holding me tight, hiding my face from them…" She shuddered. "It was terrible. I do not remember screaming; I only remember the pain, his whispered words of comfort." She shook her head. "But that was the only time we were 'found.' There has been much talk about our personal life, though. There always has been."

"Of course," sighed Éowyn, "being a public figure, I suppose that is the way your life goes." She suddenly grinned at Enguina. "Do you have any other questions we can answer?"

"Oh…I do not know," she said with a little smile and then a shake of her head. "Some things are meant to be private, are they not?"

"Yes," Éowyn replied, "and to be shared between you and Legolas only. But you will enjoy marriage, Enguina. Yes, it is a sacrifice, and yes, there are times it will be difficult, a challenge. But you will enjoy every moment as long as you love one another. You have a strong love; you will make it through anything."

"Yes," Arwen agreed softly. "A very strong love."

Enguina smiled, looking at her two dear friends. "Thank you, for all of this. For giving me advice, for telling me what to expect. Without the two of you, I…I would not have the courage to love Legolas as he deserves."

"You would find a way," Éowyn told her with a smile. "You would, even though you do not think you would. Now, I think I can come up with another story or two of Faramir before we turn in for the night, do you not think?"

"Éowyn, were we not just saying some things are meant to be private?"

"We were talking about you, dearest! Not me!"

Loud laughter from the corner table at The Bouncing Barrel was heard, but their conversation was drowned out by the volume of the rest of the patrons. It was a perfect place to celebrate, and the perfect place to hide a few inappropriate remarks made by friends. Legolas was completely enjoying himself; he had more ale than any of the others combined as it did not affect him as it did them, though he did feel something buzzing around in his head. Éomer was laughing with Faramir and Gimli was hefting his mug into the air as Aragorn leaned in his chair and clapped Legolas on the back comfortingly. His father had told him that tonight was for him, and he had stayed away, though he did not agree to watch Annî. The little girl was with one of the maids who was close with Faramir's family.

"In the meantime, do not ever try and tease her about love-making in public!" laughed Éomer. "One night, Lothíriel and I were out in the stable in Edoras with the horses, and Gamling made a joke to me about taking her to bed and I laughed and teased her about it. She was so embarrassed she tossed me out with the dog in front of the fireplace!" Gimli laughed hilariously and Éomer grinned. "I apologized of course, made it up to her, and swore I would never do it again. Fastest way into a woman's heart again is to look terribly sorry and make ten thousand promises."

Legolas laughed. "That I do know. What else should I avoid, since we are speaking of things that must be remembered?"

"Or forgotten!"

"Or remembered to be forgotten!" chuckled Faramir.

"Make her feel special from time to time," Aragorn said. "You know this already, but sometimes we forget when we see the woman we love every day. Marriage will sometimes do that to you, so remember to make the everyday special."

"Never disappoint," Éomer said, tapping a finger on the table. "It is far better to make her angry than to disappoint her. Anger you can quell, but you cannot head off disappointment."

"You know, Legolas," Faramir said appearing fairly serious for a moment, "women are very hard to read. Have you ever been near Enguina on a day when her emotions seem to have the range of Middle-Earth? If you have not yet had that delight, prepare yourself for it. One moment she will be laughing and the next—who knows?"

"Crying," sighed Éomer.

"Angry," added Aragorn.

"Trying to seduce you," finished Faramir. "Those days are mad. Simply mad. And it is not an imbalance, you know. They simply cannot help it."

"Right, so for example," Éomer interrupted. "You will say, 'darling that dress is beautiful on you.' She will blush and respond with a thank you or something equally all right. Then she might ask you about the dress she wore yesterday, and you might say, 'sorry sweetheart, I do not recall, but this one is beautiful.' Then, she gets angry, wondering why you did not notice the dress. You try to explain it away and within seconds she has dissolved into tears! Terrible!"

Legolas laughed. "That is ridiculous." He looked at Faramir. "How many times has Éowyn done that?"

"Well, honestly, once or twice a month…usually around that particular time. I am warning you, a woman can go from tears and turmoil to terribleness in less than three seconds. Look out!"

"Make sure you pay attention to those times!" Gimli laughed and Legolas waved them off.

"I will, I will," he said with a laugh. "Is there any way to avoid it?"

"Stay away from her for the whole day?" suggested Aragorn with a laugh. "Arwen is a bit more balanced than Éowyn it seems, as I do not find myself in that position very often." He smiled. "More advice: do not keep secrets."

"Aragorn, I understand what you mean, but everyone keeps a secret or two, including you."

"You do not want your wife thinking that you are sneaking off at three in the morning," Faramir said. "So best to tell her! It might put ideas into their heads that something is going on elsewhere."

"What?" asked Legolas, confused.

"Like me, Legolas," Aragorn said softly. "Working until late at night and then being unable to arrive at a reasonable hour. It put ideas into Enguina's head that I was unfaithful to Arwen."

"You? Unfaithful? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" cried Gimli, spilling ale on the table.

"Careful, dwarf, you want to keep the rest of your beard for the wedding!" laughed Éomer.

"Oh, here is one!" exclaimed Faramir. "Always go if they ask you to go somewhere and they say, 'no, it is all right, you do not have to come.' Ugh! You will never hear the end of it next time when they are saying, 'you never go with me anywhere!'"

Éomer laughed and slapped the table. "Lothíriel did that to me not even a month ago!"

"Every once in a while," Aragorn said, leaning toward Legolas, "there is this…look they will get. They will be thinking of a hundred different ways to get you alone. Your wife can be extremely cunning. They know what lights a fire in you after a period of time, and they will use it against you…sometimes at the most inappropriate moments." Legolas saw Faramir and Éomer nodding, and then Aragorn continued. "You will be so focused on her, you will be blind to what everyone else is saying."

"Stuttering over your words," groaned Faramir.

"Dropping things from your hands because your fingers stop functioning," added Éomer.

"Losing track of your own thoughts because you become so caught up in hers."

"It leaves you battling the urge to drag her bodily from the room to a place of semi-quiet," grumbled Faramir. "And I say semi-quiet because you are in such a hurry that nearly anywhere will do."

Legolas laughed heartily. "I take it those are the words of experience."

"You have no idea. Oh, and never argue with her in your bedroom…and do not go to sleep angry with one another. Work it out before sleep."

"Because of the marriage bed?" asked Legolas.

"Well, yes, but, if you have consummated your marriage in every room of the house, then you simply cannot fight in your house at all!" They all laughed. "You think I tease, but eventually, it does not matter where you are when you want each other. The bed is best on the wedding night because nerves can be somewhat of a problem and it is good to make her feel comfortable."

"One of the most important expectations everyone has about the wedding night," Aragorn said softly, "is that it is going to be wonderful—"

"And it is!" laughed Éomer.

"But it might not be perfect the first time," Aragorn finished.

"Exactly," agreed Faramir.

"The first time Lothíriel and I were together," Éomer said, "I was so afraid I was going to hurt her I did not want to lay a hand on her. It was uncomfortable and confusing, and she was just as frightened as I was. I had heard that making love was painful for the woman, and the last thing in the world I wanted was to hurt my angel, to know I was the cause of it." He shook his head. "She finally had to convince me it was all right."

"Does it…hurt?" asked Legolas, worry creasing his face. That was not something he was prepared for. "It hurts her?"

"Thankfully, only for a moment," Éomer said with a sigh of relief, "and usually only the first time. I was thinking it was something completely awful, as if it always hurt or she would always be in pain, but…no…that was not the case."

"Éowyn and I had no serious issues," Faramir said, "no real hesitation. We were anxious to be together, and excited to discover each other." He glanced at Éomer. "Forgive me, this is your sister I am talking about."

"She is not my sister during this conversation," he laughed. "She is your wife!"

"So…" Legolas said, leaning his chin on his hands, worry coursing through him, "it will be painful for her. I am going to hurt her." He could picture himself, lying beside her as Aragorn had suggested and immediately having her flash to the pain—he remembered her crying out when Bragolaur had…god, he could not even think it. He had promised he would not hurt her…was he to break that promise, too?

"Legolas," Faramir said gently, "every woman's first time hurts a little. It is only for a few moments."

"We do not come away unscathed either," murmured Éomer. "Looking down into her face when it happens is not an easy thing. And sometimes their reaction is to dig their nails into your flesh as deeply as possible. Most of us have the scratches to prove it. Clipping nails in advance might prevent it, but it is going to happen; you cannot control…passion."

Aragorn watched Legolas's face and thought of the furrows of Arwen's nails that were in his back, permanent scars, signs of her passion and of her pain. He thought about mentioning that Arwen was almost always in pain at first when they made love, but he did not want to make Legolas's anxiety worse. He would pray that this would not be the case with Enguina. He set his hand on the elf's arm.

"Legolas," he said softly, "Arwen will prepare her. Neither of you will be blind."

"That was what you meant by the first time being difficult."

"Yes; it is the initial moments of the…first union that bring the pain."

"Just the first time," Éomer encouraged him again. "No one's body is used to that, not even yours. It takes some time to adjust."

"Right," added Faramir, "so go slowly. Very slowly, and make sure she is ready. The key is communication, Legolas."

"Something else," Aragorn said, thinking, "do not be terribly embarrassed if one or both of you suddenly begin to cry. The experience will be…emotionally moving. When you have been waiting for so long to share your life with someone, sometimes those emotions can present themselves quickly and without warning. I had…no expectations to cry as I did, and Arwen and I were both in tears several times." He was not embarrassed about admitting it, and he took a drink of his ale before saying, "I knew she was the one I was meant to spend my life with for nearly seventy years. When you wait thirty years to give yourself to the one you love after pledging yourself to one another, to finally be together in the way Ilúvatar intended for His purpose…it is a long time."

"I thought waiting two years was a long time, Wingfoot," mumbled Éomer, swirling the ale in his glass and shaking his head.

"I thought one year was a long time," stated Faramir.

"I know that five months was a long time," stated Legolas, "and there is no doubt in my mind that tears will be shed. The length of time, of love, only makes the reunion that much sweeter. I will remember that moment before the White Tower as long as I live."

The four of them sat still for a minute remembering the meeting of Aragorn and Arwen and the kiss they had shared. Faramir smiled. "Beautiful."

"Yes, well, gentlemen," added Éomer, with a mischievous grin, "do we have any other useful advice for Legolas?" He had a glimmer in his eye and Legolas dropped his head in his hands.

"Oh no…" he murmured.

"If none of you do," continued Éomer, "I certainly do. Go for the throat, Legolas…one of the most sensitive places is always on her throat."

Faramir burst out laughing. "The small of her back, I would say," he added thoughtfully, trying to sound extra-serious.

"Her ears," Aragorn said with a grin, "but the throat produces a similar reaction."

"How about the collarbone?" Legolas asked into his hands.

"Ho!" yelled Faramir and Éomer together, sitting back as Aragorn's eyebrows rose and Gimli thumped the table, laughing hilariously.

"What was that about the collarbone?" asked Éomer.

"I do not think anyone should know anything about a collarbone!" cried Faramir.

Legolas blushed. "I…said that aloud?"

"Yes, you did, indeed," Aragorn said pointedly.

"Dare we ask him?" questioned Faramir.

"Yes, we do!" cried Gimli, staring at Legolas. "Do I need to start escorting you both at night?"

"No, no," Legolas said, sighing and taking another drink. "I have learned my lesson. I think I can wait four days until there are rings on our fingers."

"Am I right? You are not even blushing!" exclaimed Éomer, grinning from ear to ear.

"I was embarrassed about it enough before," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Enguina and I have pledged ourselves to be chaste until the wedding. You need not tease me; I have berated myself enough."

"Do not judge yourself too harshly, Legolas," Faramir said, tipping his mug back and knocking it on the table. "I undressed Éowyn in my head so many times that when I actually did it, the feeling was familiar!"

Everyone laughed and Éomer said, "Since we have moved on to love-making, Legolas, you should think eventually about taking charge once in a while. A woman enjoys a man who has initiative; keep it interesting and surprise her."

"Build up to it though…the first few times should be reasonable," Faramir cautioned. "And do not be too rough."

"What are you…what do you mean?" Legolas asked with confusion.

"They mean, laddie," Gimli said, clapping him on the arm, "that you need to bed her the first few times and then get out of the bedroom!"

"Too rough?"

"Yes, and never bite," added Faramir, and Legolas raised an eyebrow at him. "Never, ever bite. Heaven knows that women adore kisses everywhere, and nibbles somewhere, but bites? Never."

"Never ever?" deadpanned Legolas.

"Never ever."

"Are you sure? I do not think you said 'never' enough times."

"Never ever ever bite," Faramir repeated, shaking his head vigorously. "Drawing blood is not good, and no, I am not telling the story."

"I love watching Arwen in the morning when she is still asleep," Aragorn said softly. "If you move slightly back from them, they will sneak closer to curl back into you. Sweet."

"I love it when Lothíriel does that," sighed Éomer wistfully.

Faramir grinned. "One of the best things is to hide her clothes. Then you can watch her walk all over the room looking for them in the morning!" Gimli cracked up laughing and Éomer grinned as well.

"Bathing with her is always wonderful as well," Éomer added, leaning his chin on his hand. "Think about doing that the morning after the wedding. Soap and water and skin…yes…"

"Need a cold dousing of water over there?" Aragorn asked wryly, rolling his eyes.

"I might," Éomer admitted, sighing. "I do miss her terribly, but I would never want to miss this for the world. Being here with you four is good for the soul, to laugh and spend time together and enjoy one another's company. What more could a man ask for?"

The others grinned at him, and then Legolas stood, setting down his mug. "I will get us one more round, even if it is nearly the end of this night. What do you all say?"

"Last one, though," Faramir said. "If I come home as drunk as we were a few days ago, I will have to find somewhere else to sleep."

"Arwen will take us in," laughed Éomer, "at least she seems to understand."

"You are not all sleeping in my sitting room," complained Aragorn and there were groans and moans as Legolas headed for the bar. Smiling, he took a seat and handed out some coin to the barkeep.

"One last round for my friends, my good man," he said and the old man laughed.

"Havin' a good time over there, are ye?" he asked, nodding towards someone down the bar. "Good friend o' mine heard yer gettin' married in a few days; just in fer the week from the Westfold." He nodded at the table in the corner. "I'll send the drinks over in a minute; in the meantime, he gotcha a gift. Enjoy! 'S over there at the corner table."

"I…thank you," Legolas said with some surprise and confusion, but he could not very well refuse a gift. He rose and headed in that direction, assuming he would only be gone for a few moments.

He arrived at the table where there was a single empty chair and no one directly about. Yes, there were several men milling around in groups, but they were clearly not near the table for him. Even more confused, he began to turn away when he was caught by the arm and planted in the chair.

As an elf, he should have been able to respond long before his butt ever landed on the seat, but he knew the ale had affected him somewhat because he missed the hand. He did throw a hand up to protect himself, but it was batted aside and the figure planted itself firmly over his lap. His shock was apparent in his lack of movement.

"Welcome to my table, handsome." The figure astride him was a pretty young woman with long, curly red hair; her clothing left nothing to the imagination as the top curved down to reveal the tops of her breasts and her long skirt rode up her legs. Her hands fell against his chest as he stared at her, and she began to feel him gently. "You're strong, aren't you?"

"I…I think I have the wrong table," he stuttered out. Before he could move, she ran her hands up his chest and over his shoulders to wrap around the back of his neck. He reached for her hands and she laughed as his fingers wrapped around her wrists; she suddenly maneuvered her hips forward against him and he jolted in the chair, trying to stand up—he could not get any leverage. "I most certainly have the wrong table," he said firmly.

"Honey, aren't you the one getting married?"

"Yes," he said, staring at her as he tried to pull her hands back even as they locked around the back of his neck and clasped, "which is all the more reason to—"

"No, no, that's why I'm here," she whispered, leaning her mouth down against his ear and whispering quietly in it. "There's a room right out back…I can pleasure you all night if you like."

"What?" he gasped, his brain going fuzzy. Trying desperately to understand what in the world was going on was nearly impossible; he had never had so much ale…and he never would again—he swore it. It had to be the reason his reflexes were so dulled! Her lips pressed against the tip of his ear and sucked on the edge of it quickly; he yanked his head away, releasing her wrists and attempting to shove her face back.

"I'm here for you," she said, and he jolted in his chair again when she circled her hips on him. This time, his hands found leverage on her sides and he shoved her back, but she came right onto him, pressing her upper body to his chest and tightening her hands.

"Off, now," he said angrily, stunned that this woman would be so forceful. He tried to get up again with the same results, and began thinking about rolling the chair over. His discomfort was extreme.

"Come on, sugar," she whispered into his neck as she bent her head to his throat, "I'm excellent in bed and you look like you could use a good lay." His breath caught in his throat and he grabbed her shoulders, desperate now to get her off as her hips continued to twist in his lap.

"Enough," said Aragorn's soft but firm voice from behind her. "I think he was very clear." Legolas looked up in total relief to see him standing there, Éomer, Faramir, and Gimli off to the side nearest the wall. "Get up and leave him be."

"I was paid to pleasure this man, honey, and I don't go back on a play," she stated. Aragorn put his hand down on her shoulder.

"I insist," he stated, and this time not kindly.

"No one cares who paid you," Faramir interjected. "This is an upstanding establishment, and there are no prostitutes in Minas Tirith; not since before I was a boy. It is time for you to leave." She looked at him rather haughtily, but made no move to get up from her place astride Legolas—the elf wriggled beneath her uncomfortably, trying to shove her from him.

Aragorn's patience wore out as Legolas turned red. "Remove your hands from him or I will remove them for you." His hand wrapped tightly around her arm and he attempted to tug her up from Legolas's lap even as she dragged her hands along his body. A hand grabbed Aragorn's arm from off to his right and pulled him back from her; Aragorn turned and looked at its owner.

"What's going on over here?" The man had a drunken voice but Aragorn eyed the strange newcomer, a group of three men standing behind just behind him. "Can't wait your turn, my Lord? Can't wait in line to get a piece of the broad?"

"Stay out of it," Éomer said immediately.

"I beg your pardon?" Aragorn asked, baffled by the man's words.

"Watch your tone!" hollered Gimli as Legolas's face turned crimson, the woman still on his lap. "Think about who you're talking to!"

The man sneered and wavered drunkenly, narrowing his eyes at the dwarf. "I know just who I'm talking to, dwarf," he snapped the word like a curse. Turning back to Aragorn, he rocked his hips forward a few times. "Go ahead and take her then, Elessar; take her right here! Everyone knows it's clear you never get enough of your own!"

Instant fire roared through Legolas's chest and the fury gave him purpose. The embarrassment he felt of a few moments ago was gone as he knocked the woman clear from his lap and stood as she hit the floor with an oof! In fact, he did not even care to spend a thought on the woman or where she was going.

"How dare you—" Legolas snapped, looking to step right around Aragorn and reach for the man. Aragorn raised a hand and it caught the center of his chest, preventing him from moving forward any further, but the man did not look away from the drunkard.

"You are drunk," Aragorn said, his voice low and angry now, "but be careful with your words."

"It is his wife, the Queen, whom you slander," Legolas sneered, and he saw in the corner of his eye how Gimli's hands balled into fists; he noticed the same with Faramir. He did not have time to think about how awful the whole scene could turn before the man began speaking again.

"Ya know what?" muttered the man, sizing Aragorn up as he took a step closer. "You probably could use another one on the side," the man continued. "Maybe this one'll actually take; maybe she'll give you an heir. And you never know—"

"Shut your mouth!" shouted Éomer, his hands balling into fists as well.

"—she'll probably please you better than some Elvish slut—"

There was no one to stop Faramir as he lunged forward and hit the drunk square in the jaw with his fist and a pop! The drunkard dropped like a stone, falling towards the bar, but one of the three who had been standing beside him moved forward to confront Faramir. It was a half-second afterward that Éomer reached out and slugged one of the other two; the hit was solid, so hard that the man's feet lifted from the ground and he fell back onto the nearest table, flipping it onto its side and over-turning it. The last man lunged for Éomer but Gimli had already leapt for his throat, snarling like a wild-animal and swearing in dwarvish—

And within seconds the whole tavern broke out into a fight—the boisterous evening they had been having had become an intense, angry brawl. Men leapt up from the bar in defense of the King at the companions of the drunk who were trying to get to their comrades, lying on the floor being pummeled. The barkeep started yelling as well, and several other men joined the fray to stop the others.

"No, wait! Gimli!" cried Legolas, trying to reach out and pull him back.

"Stop! Stop, Faramir! Éomer!" Aragorn hollered. He and Legolas tried to wade into the sea of people to grab several of the men and pull them back, but it was extremely difficult to force their way through to yank their friends out.

Breaking up the fight took at least five minutes, and even afterwards when the men were being escorted from the tavern, they were yelling and snarling at each other; the five friends were included in those escorted out, but they would have departed anyway.

"It's true what he said!" growled another man once they got out the door.

"Shut it!" yelled Gimli, shoving the men out into the street, even as Legolas grabbed his arms to hold him back. The dwarf was yanking on him, his feet coming off the ground. "Shut yer—"

"That's right," replied another, nudging his friend down the street and away from Gimli. "No Elvish whore's going to be able to bear him a kid—"

Éomer lunged forward, snarling and grasping for the two of men who were all that was left of the five who had come to join in. Aragorn grabbed Éomer's shoulder and Faramir took hold of his upper arm on the right side, preventing him from hitting the man again. "Say it again!" snarled Éomer, dragging the two of them forward onto the street as he tried to get the others. "Say it again and so help me, Ilúvatar! I'll kill—"

"Éomer!" snapped Aragorn as the two men scuttled off like roaches in the face of the Rohirric King's fury. "This is not helping!" Éomer shook the two of them loose, breathing hard, and watching as Legolas also released Gimli. The five of them stood, unmoving, before the tavern, Éomer staring down the street with angry eyes.

It was Faramir who sighed first, reaching up to touch his own head, which had been bumped from a table and was bleeding from a cut on the right side of his forehead; Gimli's tunic was soaked from someone splashing their ale all down his front and he was adjusting his jaw that had clearly been hit; and though Éomer had been in the middle of the brawl, he and Legolas simply looked as though their tunics needed to be straightened.

"What a mess," Legolas said softly.

"I'll say," grumbled Gimli, staring at Aragorn who turned towards Faramir.

"Let me look at that," he said, reaching his hands up to turn the man's head.

"What happened over there?" Faramir asked, his eyes darting to Legolas. Éomer remained standing straight as an oak, clearly fuming.

Legolas blushed and looked away guiltily. "The barkeep told me someone had brought me a gift and left it at the corner table. I did not understand what was happening, and when I arrived that...that—"

"Lady of the night?" supplied Faramir.

"Yes…she shoved me into the chair and I could not get her off. She must have thought I wanted her to…ugh," he said in disgust, shaking his head at the memory of her on his lap. He shuddered. "It was awful."

"It is not bad," Aragorn murmured to Faramir. "You should go home and make sure it is cleaned and then get some rest. You hit that fairly hard against the table."

Legolas opened his mouth and then closed it; what could he say? Was there anything to be said? That man had made him so angry…everyone so angry. For him to say those things about Arwen—

"Why did you not defend her?" asked Éomer suddenly, turning to Aragorn. "Why did you not hit that man? You could have had him thrown in the stocks for slandering her like that."

Aragorn turned to him and shook his head. "Éomer, throw one man in prison today, throw fifteen tomorrow. You cannot stop the speech of drunk men," he said softly, "no matter what it makes you feel. It does not help the situation to want to hurt them; in fact, it only fuels their disdain." He gave him a tired smile. "I do appreciate you, all of you, for defending her, but…you should not have fought them."

"We shouldn't have?" asked Gimli, crossing his arms. "If we don't, who will?"

"Drunkards barely know what they speak," Legolas said softly, and Éomer shook his head.

"No, drunkards speak whatever they think aloud because they have loose lips; they know what they say," Éomer said firmly. "They meant that to wound, both you and her."

"Yes," Aragorn agreed, "I will not naysay you. But to even acknowledge their remarks is to let them gain ground. They are wrong…and they always will be wrong. But, let us not…dwell on this. Let us not ruin the night with talk of untruths. Let us try and focus on the good."

It was clear that no one wanted to let it go so easily, but Legolas especially could clearly see that Aragorn wanted them to stop speaking of it. He would not speak of it again. It was also clear that it was weighing heavily on him now, even though he wanted them to move on.

"I am sorry the night ended this way," Legolas said softly. "I wish I had not gone to that table."

"It's not your fault, laddie," Gimli said. "It's a shame that some men need to act how they look."

"Like horses' asses?" asked Faramir as the five of them began to walk. No one laughed.

"Indeed," replied Éomer, sighing. "Well, at least we got some good ale in before we were…forced to leave the establishment. Think the ladies are finished as well?"

"Of course!" Faramir said with a laugh. "Éowyn will already be in bed, guaranteed. She will have been exhausted by the time they got her there. She cannot stay up late with the baby."

"I suppose we should turn in; call it a night," said Gimli. "It's late enough."

"Some of us have a meeting with the council in the morning," Faramir groaned and Aragorn nodded. "Éomer, will you stay with your sister tomorrow? She could use some help with Annî." He shook his head. "I…even though the Healers think this babe is not coming soon, I do. I want her to take it easy."

He nodded. "Of course."

No matter what conversation was had after that; Legolas had been right. The night was tainted by the last incident with both the tavern woman and the fight.