I, Erestor, am again writing the account of why the first royal wedding of the Third Age was stalled for a hundred years.
Our sojourn in Caras Galadhon lasted but a fleeting month. Each and every day, Elrond and Celebrían were inseparable from dawn to late in the night. They walked every path in the city; I know being their prominent chaperone. Once again I relived the awful war through Elrond's eyes as he spoke of our losses and victories to Celebrían. No word was spoken of announcing a formal betrothal with exchange of rings before we took Gil-gal's remains to the sea. On the eve of our departure, Celeborn summoned us to his private chambers, wishing word with Elrond. Entering, Elrond, Glorfindel and myself found our hosts and Círdan waiting with Celebrían. It was there we learned the Lord of the Galadhrim forbade such a union at this time.
"Your fëa is laden with sorrow, Elrond," Celeborn wisely stated; eyes not without compassion and tone softer than I remember coming from one who is accustom to issuing stern commands. "Marriage and sorrow cannot exist at the same time. It is the decree of Círdan, Galadriel and myself that you postpone marriage for a hundred years."
We all felt Elrond's stunned shock, for he was under the impression that along with the necklace made of the starlight gems of Lasgalen he wore as a promise, a silver ring would soon grace his finger and I felt Celebrían's astonishment mingle with his making it impossible to know from whence it came.
"It is a myth that elves are doomed to wait that long," Elrond shouted, although without righteous conviction. The lore master was quite aware the stories of those doomed a long wait, and Celeborn's own eighty year tortuous interval. "Why?" Elrond pleaded to Galadriel, hoping for an ally, but his heart wrenching cry was an indictment against us all.
Before Galadriel could answer, Círdan spoke softly and only he had the power to stay any rash action Elrond might take. "Because, my elfling, your fëa is battered from war and requires a space of time to heal. Marriage is a season for frivolity and joy, of songs and poetry. When you wed the Valar's choice, you should be thinking of nothing but love and her beauty. Your darkest thoughts should be how much wine will be required to satisfy Glorfindel and Thranduil."
Elrond, ever the intellectual, absorbed in silence the wisdom of his elders. It brought back the contrast of his nature and Elros'. When Círdan attempted to show Elros the brief path he was determined to make his, the young twin rebelled loudly and stormed from the palace and into history.
"I see with clarity when not personally attached," Elrond admitted his lack of rationality. Taking a few deep breaths, he looked at Glorfindel and I. "Are you two in agreement with the lords and lady?"
Glorfindel nodded without hesitation and I followed suit, one heartbeat behind our golden warrior. We expected a fight, but Elrond just hung his head in defeat, a sign of just how much he needed to mend his broken fëa.
Celebrían, who was standing between her parents, glided silently to stand before her intended and slipped his hands into hers. "I want our wedding to be full of love and contentment, meleth-nín. You need this time. What's another hundred years after our long delay? For you, I'll wait forever."
Tears filled his eyes and he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. "I don't deserve you, meleth-nín. I expect long letters of declared love and all minutiae of your daily life, no matter how mundane. We will court through those letters like we did these past millennia."
"And I expect equally long letters of how Imladris is blossoming under your care. I darest not see you until the time of our betrothal, for I'll not be tempted to disobey my parents and join with your fëa."
"Nor I you. For if my eyes alight on your beauty, I will plunge a dagger into the heart of your adar and wed you on the spot."
We all looked in amusement at Celeborn.
"I may forget to bring my daughter to you in a hundred years, Elrond," Celeborn dryly replied.
"You get her for another century, so are the winner of her heart for now," Elrond snapped. His eyes automatically shifted again to Celebrían; for if she were in his sight, we ceased to exist. "Come, the night beckons and my adar is flying low, so as to watch over us." He smirked around the room. "You old elves can take the night off and I will bid farewell to my intended in private."
Celeborn snorted. "For that, I will be your chaperone."
We all stated our intent to chaperone and Elrond groaned, but there was a smile on his lips. He wanted us with them this final night to witness their devotion.
We stayed a respectful distance as the lovers strolled arm in arm around massive Mallorn roots into the deep wood away from nearby talans. In the shadows of a large tree, he pulled her against him and let his lips blend with hers. We all got comfortable, except Celeborn, who was playing with his knife.
Galadriel, leaning against Celeborn's side opened her mind, seeking to enjoy the warm night with her husband and rejoice her soul mate was home. Suddenly, her body stiffened and all of us came to attention.
'What is it?' Celeborn spoke in her mind, hand tightening on the handle of the knife in his free hand.
'Elrond and Celebrían are as we were in Mithrim. Let him know he is going too far.'
Elrond and Celebrían jumped apart when Celeborn's knife embedded into the tree inches from his head.
"A hundred year wait is impossible if you link fëas now," Celeborn advised from his spot on another root. "I am the voice of experience and am sure Glorfindel doesn't want to sit up all night guarding my daughter's door as he did her naneth's."
Glorfindel glowed in delight. "Elrond, I didn't think you harbored such deviant thoughts. You must tell me the details. However, Celeborn is correct and it gets tiresome trying to outwit a longing fëa."
We wandered again in the warm night at random until before Galadriel's mirror. To be fair, she hadn't once visited since Celeborn returned. Now, we waited to see if our path to the sea was met with resistance.
She gazed intently and it didn't divulge its secrets for long. When she spoke, it was with the authority of the Valar. "It is by decree the Second Age of Middle Earth shall end with this year. Our new year will become Third Age year One. You two may wed in TA 99," Galadriel decreed with finality.
"I'll hold you to that," Elrond replied.
We were already astride our horses when Galadriel imparted one last bit of wisdom. "Elrond, those who died did so upon the edict of the Valar; their lives here were completed and required no more this side of the undying lands. We will see them again after Mandos releases them, so think of their deaths as a long parting. Middle Earth is changing. Kingdoms of men will rise and fall in this Third Age. Your time is now, Elrond. Go and heal, iôn-nín. At the appropriate time, we will bring your bride to Imladris."
The journey to the sea was a sad and long; filled with songs of those departing to Aman and their eternity of waiting for loved ones to join them when Mandos released their souls..
We could feel Elrond's sorrow and none could offer comfort, not even when he laid Gil-galad to rest in a tomb of hewn granite with his likeness and battles carved on all sides. The inscription was simple:
Artanáro, Rodnor
Ereinion Gil-galad
Last Ñoldor High King to rule all elves in Middle Earth
Born in the First Age of this world, 450 and the Second Age ended with his death, 3441
He walked Middle Earth for Three Thousand Five Hundred and Seventy Eight Years; too young to die
Slain before the Black Gate of Mordor in the War of the Last Alliance
Elrond cried at the tomb when it came time to leave for Imladris in the spring. We spent the winter with Círdan, having parted with half our warrior on the western slopes of the Misty Mountains where they returned to Imladris. Before we left the Havens, Elrond greeted all who made the journey from Imladris and told them he personally oversaw their boats made ready. We rode hard and fast to Imladris and began transforming the community from one that housed over three hundred thousand soldiers to a community perfect for a bride. I suspect Galadriel saw in her mirror just how long it would take; for we were still working on the transformation when they rode into Imladris a hundred years later.
"Since I am lore master, I will write the history of my betrothal," Elrond snipped at us one evening. We were jesting with him that he was among a rare handful forced to wait a hundred years for his bride. "The records will state, Celebrían and I wed and give the year, but never that Celeborn forced a long wait upon us."
"I'm sure it will never be mentioned," I acerbically agreed and smirked at Glorfindel.
Eighty years had already passed and Elrond's longing for Celebrían grew apace. Letters flowed like wine between the two kingdoms; carried mostly by the Great Eagles. Every week one would land and deliver a leather pouch of correspondence and take another back. More than once, I suggested borrowing the Palantíri, but Elrond vetoed my idea.
"I need to see my love's declarations in writing to read many times before filing it for binding," he would reply. "Did you refill my parchment drawer?" he asked me multiple times throughout the years. "I'm binding every letter into a book, so when our great, great grandelflings ask us about our love, we can let them read for themselves.
"If they are anything like you, Elrond, the end of the world will happen before you get progeny that far in the future," I kidded right back.
We made Imladris ready for our guests and a great horn sounded one spring afternoon. Glorfindel led the large procession down the steep track and across the bridge. He personally rode to Lothlórien to escort the bridal party here. Elrond sent the gregarious elf with instructions to not allow Celeborn any more stalling tactics. They were supposed to arrive in the year TA 90, but Celeborn sent a letter stating he couldn't get away due to Amroth's burgeoning leadership trials.
Elrond returned missives reminding Celeborn that Amroth was invited to the wedding and not left unsupervised in Lothlórien and thus letters exchanged for several years until Elrond's patience dried up.
"Amroth and Celeborn have deprived me a betrothal period of several years before I must jump into a wedding," Elrond groused. "I wanted a space of at least two years betrothed to Celebrían, living in close quarters, so we learn and adjust to all our faults and foibles before spending an eternity together."
"I'm sure Celeborn will give you all the years you wish," I jokingly replied.
At long last the wait was as if it never happened when he looked upon his love. I noticed Celebrían made an angelic vision, wearing a bright gown of white starlight with glass beads that caught sun's rays and she looked like a Maia coming to claim her kingdom. Her diadem was of like gems and blinded one trying to look in her face. Elrond's eyes were on her alone as he roughly pulled her off her horse and into his arms and we gave them privacy by turning our attention to the lord and lady. Of Celeborn and Galadriel, Elrond paid no attention and thus it fell upon me to welcome them with the traditional Sindar greeting.
Galadriel looked amused and Celeborn ready to leave.
Elrond finally broke the kiss. "I have special rooms prepared for you and your parents," he spoke first.
"Not the ones we always reside?" she asked.
"No, I've remodeled my quarters and you get entirely new suites. Erestor knows the duties of running Imladris falls on his broad shoulders until we are wed and thus I am at your disposal and I will guide any tour you take or path you wander."
"As much as we would love a tour, Elrond, a bath is first on my list," Celeborn spoke loudly and laughter rang out among the warriors.
He finally was forced to acknowledge the other lord. "The offer is only for Celebrían. You can find your own way around." He turned back to his beloved. "Why did you bring him?"
"He said something about his rights as adar and it didn't seem fair to leave him."
"He left King Amroth in charge. I'm sure within a month, Amroth will send a rider begging him to return," Elrond lightly quipped and with an arm around Celebrían's shoulders, greeted the lord and lady. "The sun shines brightly upon our meeting today. It is the brightest of my life until the day your daughter becomes my wife. Welcome to Imladris."
"You are such a liar, Elrond," Celeborn responded with a scowl.
"I was speaking with your lady," Elrond countered. "You, I wish would drop into the Bruinen and wash away."
"Don't say that to my adar," Celebrían complained and pulled away from her intended. "He was the one that made sure everything was perfect for the trip and that I wanted for nothing."
"In that case, welcome to my home," Elrond's ersatz warmth dripping with every word.
"Adar, apologize for keeping Elrond from me," Celebrían demanded with a stance and tone equal to her parents and it was clear to see whose child she was.
"Yes, Celeborn, you dragged your feet for years," Galadriel added. She knew Elrond was righteous in his indignation.
Celeborn looked around and his warriors were all gone and only the advisors for both realms remained and he dropped his pretense of objecting to Elrond as a future son-in-law that he maintained on the trip. "I wasn't exaggerating about Amroth, Elrond. He is the most hopeless king I've had the misfortune to witness. I finally packed up and left. Glorfindel will tell you, he followed us to the gate, pleading not to be left in charge."
Glorfindel nodded. "Celeborn speaks truth, Elrond. Amroth made a great prince, but is scared to rule for fear of making a mistake. He doesn't make a move Celeborn doesn't approve."
Elrond cut Celeborn some slack and withdrew his arm from Celebrían's shoulders and gripped Celeborn's arm in the fashion of warriors. "I'm just glad you are finally here. The wait was longer than all of the Second Age."
Celeborn's eyes softened. "I know just how you feel. Mine was made worse by my own actions and I tried to spare you and Celebrían any bonding of fëas."
"For sparing me that suffering, I am thankful." Elrond smiled at him for the first time and pulled him in for a hug and turned to do the same to Galadriel. "Come, I'll show you to your rooms and let you alone to bathe."
Dressing for supper that night, Galadriel offered her opinion on Elrond. "His fëa is at peace now. We were wise to make him wait and heal. Did you see how young and carefree he is around our daughter?"
"Cdfoolmmmee," Celeborn mumbled unintelligibly and tied his grey robes.
"I've never seen him so outgoing. I always thought Elrond as being the more subdued of the twins; the serous one, while Elros laughed and joked all the time. Now it's like we have Elros courting our daughter."
"Maybe he just needed the right elleth to unlock his heart of stone." Celeborn waited for her to finish her makeup. They descended the stairs to Elrond's dining hall and greeted all who joined them while waiting for Elrond to escort their daughter. The hall was packed and Celeborn looked for Elrond's seneschals, hoping the courting couple wasn't left alone. He almost left to seek them when Elrond entered and Celeborn sighed in relief when he spotted Glorfindel and I one step behind the couple.
Loud applause and songs of welcome greeted their entrance and continued while we were seated. I mark this occasion for it was the first time Elrond placed Celebrían at his right hand and Glorfindel, with the light of the trees of Aman glowing within, took his new seat to Elrond's left. After everyone found seats and the noise reduced to normal levels, Elrond rose. "My friends make ready a feast. For in one week, Celebrían and I will exchange betrothal rings." He sat with a grin when new songs burst forth and clapping resumed for a short space. We knew from the quality of verse, they were written and rehearsed in private many decades in the making, waiting for her to arrive.
Galadriel asked Elrond for permission to take over as mistress of the house until the wedding. Not well versed with such requests, Elrond graciously acquiesced and within a fortnight was cursing his stupidity. At first, Galadriel organized the betrothal festivities with perfect precision, but then her next demand had Elrond fuming.
"Elrond, walk with me," Galadriel commanded one fair morning just as the sun graced our valley with its warm presence.
Elrond leaned over and kissed Celebrían and stood from the breakfast table. "I will humor your naneth, but don't stray far. I have plans for today that don't include your parents."
Celebrían graced him with a special smile. "You will find me in the kitchens overseeing parts of the feast preparations."
Elrond frowned. "You don't have to do that, or anything except look beautiful for me."
"If I'm to be mistress of this house, Elrond Peredhel, they must expect me to insert myself anyplace I desire." Her tone subtlety changed and Elrond glanced at Celeborn, for she used his tone and inflections.
"Of course, meleth-nín," he quickly acquiesced while Glorfindel and I laughed at him. "This is as much your home as mine." He saw Galadriel waiting patiently and joined her.
Thráin marked his place and rubbed his one eye. He let his mind wander back to his courtship with Lis. He was extremely nervous the first times they walked under the careful eyes of the dams. After gifting her with his handmade necklace, he made sure each stroll ended with another gift in her hands; some expensive like the necklace and other times a small token that made her smile and quickly kiss him in thanks. He made a mental note to tell Thorin to shower Lióni with gifts. 'Thorin, I know ye are ah good lad, but dense as the fog that rises in early morning off the River Running where lasses are concerned. Maybe I can glean ah small bit of wisdom from the elves when yer mouth overrides yer common sense.' He returned to his reading after pouring a fresh cup of tea.
"What do I do now?"
Dis joined her brother in his chambers and never witnessed such a lost look on his face. They returned to the family warren; leaving the lords with eligible lasses to find their way to wherever they needed to be. "In two hours; just before lunch is served, you will present your intended on the balcony."
"I know that," Thorin snapped irritably. "What I need to know is how do I court the lass?" Without waiting for a reply, he began a rant while pacing his sitting room. "I don't know at my age if I can thaw for a lass. What if she hates me or refuses my offer now that she knows she is my One. You see she didn't have a choice in a room full of competitors to speak her mind. What if her eye is taken with a younger dwarf like Fili? I'm old enough to be her father; what am I thinking." He ended with a fist slamming into the fireplace mantel and he stared down into dying embers waiting for night to be stoked into a cheery fire.
Dis calmly let him steam. When he paused, she adroitly continued as if he hadn't vented. "Escort her to lunch today and remember to complement her on her gown and hair. Ask if she has any questions, and whatever you do Thorin, listen to her. Don't tune her out until you are wed."
Thorin raised his eyes to her and they both laughed and he relaxed. "When do I officially start courting her?"
Dis paused, considering. "Not until after your duties with helping father in trade negotiations expire. I shouldn't think the elves will be here long and then you will be free of duties until after the wedding. Just because you are crown prince, don't think you are immune from blossoming love. It will come if nourished."
"And that dear sister, is why we dwarrow rely on dams. If left to us, our race would die out."
"It is almost time to gather. You need to dress in the tunic I laid out."
Thorin looked down. "I put this on clean this morning and know I didn't spill on it while dining with father."
"Your title requires a change of clothing each time you are seen in public with Lióni," she spelled it out.
"I'll never remember all the rules." He felt tension rising.
"You don't have to remember anything. Just come to me and I will have everything ready or an answer to your questions. If I'm not available, father can help or one of the other dams."
"Courting is hard work," he muttered and disappeared into his bedchamber. On the bed was a black tunic with all the trappings, including a different diadem of gem studded gold. "Bet I use every stick of regalia father owns before I am wed," he uttered aloud and stripped, quickly donning everything on the bed and looked in the mirror. The gilded buckle holding a polished black belt gleamed in the gas light back at him; the Durin crest showing prominently. He brushed his hair and beard and tied black braces inlaid with gold on each wrist. His last addition was a black wolf pelt over his shoulders and clasped at the throat with a gold pin and he smirked. It was a dragon.
Lióni was still in shock and barely remembered the walk back to her chambers on her father's arm. Her mother and grandmother joined the Durin dams for congratulations and planning. Soon those venerable dams of the house bustled in glowing with pride.
"Lady Dis told us she was relieved we won and was hurried away by guards before we could talk with her," Lári gushed the moment the door closed.
"The older Durin dams wouldn't let us go without congratulating us and offering words of advice. We are to stand in their group during the announcement," Risári added with satisfaction. "I long dreamed of a day when my bloodlines would mingle with those of a Durin and to think it is happening in my lifetime. I remember as a young lass listening to my grandmother state they were only one step away from joining when she was a lass, but King Náin II's son, Dáin I, married the only higher ranking lass. And now my own granddaughter is doing the joining. Nár an Kár would be so proud. Nár had a hand in raising both Thráin and Thorin and felt a paternal pride in both of them."
Lióni's disbelief at being the chosen One and the hundreds of thoughts competing for attention drove the chattering of the dams into background noise. Finally she noticed silence and forced herself to focus on the present. Everyone was looking at her. "What?" she asked.
"Haven't you been paying attention?" Lári inquired and the natural difficulty between them was in her tone; that of forced patience with a daughter not cut from the same mold as other lasses.
"He chose me," Lióni softly spoke and they had to strain to catch the words that floated away.
Lári softened and hugged her. "Yes, he did. Ballads of this day will be sung from here to the end of the dwarves. Never has so many come together with hopes of being queen, and my daughter, in time, you will be ranking queen under the mountain."
"Listen to the stories and pay special attention when Queen Ziari's name is mentioned," Risári instructed. "She was matriarch and queen mother when I lived here. She held such power, a flick of her finger had servants bowing before her. You will hold that power one day. But remember, Queen Ziari ruled wisely and fairly. She was wife and mother to king's and grandmother and great grandmother to those in waiting in her day. You are young and will live to see your great grandsons born to the throne."
"Maybe I should have a first kiss before planning my grandchildren," Lióni stated, again overwhelmed, while everyone burst out laughing.
"I'm spreading that one ta Thráin," Dóvad laughingly retorted and then remembered. "We need ta tell Tóvad before he hears it second hand."
"You go, Dóvad," Lári ordered. "We have to get our daughter ready to face all of Erebor and many elves as well. We don't need you underfoot."
The smile that wouldn't leave his face remained all the way to the Halls of Healing. He burst through the door to find his son resting comfortably on pillows, a book in his hands. "Well, my boy, I got ye ah future wife. She's ah bit headstrong, but her family is relocating ta Jötunheim an her father will be one of yer advisors."
"Don't ye mean yer advisor," Tóvad threw back, closing the book and setting it on his lap.
"No, I'm sure I didn't misspeak." Dóvad had fun with his son. "I have another position by order of the king, or will have after today. I'm ta be an advisor ta King Thráin an live here in Erebor."
Tóvad snorted in disbelief. "Now I know ye are pulling my leg. Ye don't go from ah dungeon ta advisor. Who did Thorin really choose?"
Dóvad's toothy grin made it hard to speak. "He chose yer sister."
"Now I know ye are flat out lying ta my face. Lióni told me yesterday there's no way ah half Blacklock would be chosen."
"Yer sister is young an has much ta learn. An her education just started today."
Óin hurried into the room and seeing Dóvad, placed his trumpet in an ear. "I would have checked on ye earlier, but as yer father can attest, I had Durin business first off this morning. I'll be taking over yer healing."
"The other healers are doing fine," Tóvad protested. He liked the young healer tending him and they were becoming friends. "Ye don't have ta tend me."
"If Thráin found out I wasn't personally tending his daughter-in-laws brother, I will be asked ta leave the mountain, and I for one, like it here," Óin replied and pulled the blanket off the broken leg, fingers pinching bare toes and looking at circulation.
"Lióni really did get chosen?" He looked at his father, disbelief written all over his handsome face.
Dóvad raised his voice to Óin. "I've been banned from our chambers while the dams get my daughter ready for the unveiling."
Óin grinned and turned back to his work.