Supper over, elves, dwarves and men mingled while servants moved tables to the edge of the dancing area. The young ones found each other out and started making plans for the morrow.
"Don't forget, Thorin is still healing," Bain cautioned when a climb up the stairs to the hidden dwarven door was mentioned as a possible outing.
"How about we ride up the mountain," Thorin Stonehelm suggested. "I haven't been up there yet and am told the views shouldn't be missed."
Elessar vocally agreed he wanted to ride. "I have a horse, but it's too tall for most of you. What can we ride?"
"I'll ask Father if we can use rams," Thorin stated excitedly. He missed the adventures that Bain, Elessar and Gimli were having.
"If he's anything like mine, he'll say youngsters shouldn't be wasting valuable animals," Gimli grumbled.
"Don't worry, I'll get us rides," Thorin affirmed and hobbled off to find Dáin. He spotted him talking to King Bard and stood waiting for an entrance.
"Father," his voice caused both elders to look at him. He focused on his father, hoping his nervousness didn't reflect in his tone. "I've made plans for tomorrow with Gimli, Bain an Elessar ta ride up on the mountain. We need mounts; my leg ya know." He emphasized by slapping his injured thigh. "Could we borrow ah few rams?"
Dáin glanced at Bard, who smirked back and he returned attention to his son. "Ye want ta ruin valuable animals for boyish foolishness?" His gruff tone almost caused Thorin to say "Never mind."
Thorin stiffened his spine. "We will be careful with the rams. I haven't been ta the high meadows yet an neither has Gimli or any of us."
"Has the boys asked their father's for permission?" Dáin winked at Bard.
"Um, they are planning ta. No sense until I have rounded up rides."
"I don't want the human lads on the backs of rams." Dáin vetoed the idea. "We have ponies ye boys can take. If the others get permission, I'll let ye have ponies ta ride. Be sure an pack ah lunch."
"I'll have the cooks prepare one first thing in the morning," Thorin replied and limped back to his cohorts.
Dáin chuckled. "I assume they will come back hungry, tired an dirty."
"Aye," Bard quietly agreed. "I'm glad to see Bain making friends among the dwarves. Elessar may be younger than he is, but the lad is already a better swordsman. It pays to be raised by elves." They stopped talking when Bain ran up.
"Father, I heard we have rides up the mountain. Can I go with them?"
"Yes, but remember to listen to Thorin and Gimli. They are older than you. And don't forget to keep an eye on Elessar. After all, he is three years your junior."
"Thanks, Da and I will." Just as swiftly as Thorin did, Bain rushed away.
Elessar looked for anyone who could give permission among his family when Thorin rushed back with news they had ponies. He spotted his mother first and ran to her. "Mother, we are planning a ride up the mountain tomorrow. Can I go?"
Gilraen looked at her rapidly growing son. "And who is we?"
He rapidly told her.
"Well, I'm going on a tour of the mountain with Elrond in the morning. I don't know…," she trailed off, uncertain if giving permission was something Elrond would be opposed to. Her worry was picked up by a passing elf….Figwit.
Figwit glanced over and saw mother and son in what appeared to be a serious discussion; one that troubled the mother. He quickly took action. 'Lord Erestor, a moment please.'
The silent reply came back immediately. 'Yes, Figwit.'
'Lady Gilraen appears to be having some sort of issue in dealing with Elessar. She is near the bonfire.'
'I'll handle it,' Erestor replied.
Figwit stood guard until he saw Erestor sveltely walk to the humans and then went about his assigned task.
Erestor indeed saw Lady Gilraen looking perplexed and quickly invaded their space. "My lady, may I be of service?"
Startled, Gilraen looked up at the dark haired elf. "Erestor, how did you know I needed assistance?"
He bowed his head at her. "Has there ever been a time the elves didn't know your needs?"
She smiled at that and replied, "Never," and quickly filled him in.
Erestor quickly contacted Elrond. 'Elrond, Elessar is planning another adventure with Thorin Stonehelm, Gimli and Bain tomorrow. They plan on riding ponies up the mountain. Should he go?'
Elrond was talking with Thráin and Balin. "Forgive me a moment. My advisor is contacting me." He went silent and the dwarves watched him with interest. 'He may go.'
Erestor looked down at Elessar. "You may ride one of the ponies, but remember, you mustn't get into trouble and don't let the other boys talk you into doing wrong. You will answer for your actions."
Elessar rolled his eyes. "All right, Erestor. Talk about taking the fun out of a day," he grumbled and ran off.
"I've said that same thing to the twins and not once have they listened to my sage advice," Erestor confided to Gilraen with a smile filled with fond memories. "I would be disappointed if one so young took my advice."
Gilraen took his offered arm and they walked to a table of dwarven dams so she could visit. "Thank you for making the decision. Anymore, I feel out of my league in dealing with him."
"You don't have to make any harder decision than what color his next tunic is," Erestor assured her. He felt her implied consent for the elves to take over and guide the boy to his future. As Erestor left her, he had a moment where he hoped an orc would kill the boy on the morrow and quickly felt remorse for his morbid thoughts. If only the boy didn't destroy his life by taking their Arwen Undómiel from them.
Gimli butted into his father's conversation of telling Lord Fárin of the White Mountain about leaving Lake-town. "Father, permission ta go with Stonehelm an the two human boys up the mountain tomorrow."
Glóin paused long enough to glare at his son. "Ye want ta hang out with those two imbeciles that aren't smart enough ta not hang off ah wall?"
Gimli thought fast. "They aren't so bad….for humans."
"Have fun," Glóin's tone reversed his faux objection and gave permission; turning back to the old dwarf he winked and continued his story.
Talking ceased when Galadriel's voice rang out over the assembled group. "Thorin Oakenshield, come before me."
Everyone except the youngsters gathered around, curious what the witch wanted of him.
Thorin pushed through the crowd until his short stature stood proudly before her tall form. "I take it you want the tome?"
Everyone was silent; most not following the conversation and murmurs of "what book?" floated about.
"Yes, Prince Thorin. You have a book that once was prized property of the elves. Tell me how you came to own it."
Looking into her eyes, he divulged all. "I was dining with Lord Dóvad and his family when a conversation with the lass, Lióni, brought confession of an elven book and certain hairstyle she was sporting. She brought the book forth and showed me the page. I saw instantly the Cirth was Sindar. I read part of the passage I understood and knew enough of the language to know I was reading of Lady Celebrían's wedding. I turned the page and the words jumped out at me in the form of a divination. That's when I suspected I was holding a tome of magic." He braved a look at Thranduil and with all eyes on him, continued. "The next elf was called Ríllas and it said she was wedding King Thranduil that day."
Thorin's words had many older elves revisiting that perfect day.
Elrond's eyes widened and he perceived the lost book might finally have been found. "Thorin," he called. Many eyes turned to Elrond while he looked intently at the dwarf. "And why would the dwarves have a book with images of my wife?"
Thorin noted Elrond had the same inflections when the lord asked Gandalf why they were on the Great East Road that evening back at Rivendell. Only this time, Elrond was looking directly at him and he cautiously responded. "How it came into our possession has been lost from knowledge. However, when I turned the page and looked at a picture of Lady Ríllas, the figure danced before my eyes. I surmised I might be dealing with elven magic and figured Thranduil would pay dearly for the book."
All eyes shifted to Thranduil, who had moved to the edge of elves, now ringing the shorter dwarves.
"What would you want in exchange for that book?" Thranduil mockingly asked.
"All bounties on the Company lifted for one, and no more will you threaten or imprison dwarves traveling through your lands," Thorin loudly answered and stared challengingly up into Thranduil's eyes.
"It is I that am requesting the book," Galadriel insisted. All heads whipped in her direction. "I can and will speak for Thranduil and agree to your requests, Prince Thorin; for they are not unreasonable demands. King Thranduil will never from this moment hence harass your dwarves, as long as they are not committing any crimes. He will no longer threaten or endanger the liberty of the Company."
Thorin braved a look in Thranduil's direction and the king nodded he agreed, eyes on the witch alone.
Thorin nodded that he agreed to the terms with a single nod of his head. He pulled the tome from his vest pocket that Galadriel already seen and presented it to her. "I'm sure this tome has much more meaning to elves than dwarves. Just so you know, I had our scribes copy it for our library."
"That is acceptable, Thorin Oakenshield. Your copy does not carry the magic of the Valar as this one does." She took it and abruptly the book was snagged from her hand by Thranduil.
He looked at the title and his eyes widened in shock and he glared at Galadriel. "You knew this was here?"
"It arrived with the caravan from Jötunheim," she answered tolerantly.
"This must be the book Thorin had in his possession I was told about." Thranduil put the pieces together. He flipped it open with interest and memories flooded back to him and he quickly turned to the back and the last entry. There she was in the gown she wore on their wedding day. His eyes watered in memories and grief of all he lost.
Legolas marveled that anything could melt his father's heart of stone.
"Galadriel," Thranduil spoke quietly.
"Yes, mellon-nín?"
He handed her the book. "Do you have the power to bring her to life?"
"Yes," she whispered directly to him and her free hand squeezed his in comfort. She turned back to Thorin. "A long time ago this book resided in palaces of the ruling elves. It contains the weddings of all deemed worthy in Middle Earth. It is a magical book, endowed with powers from the Valar, and only a Maia or one gifted with their powers can bring life to these pages. If everyone will clear this area, I will give a demonstration, but am going to extract a change in policy towards female dwarves for my gift of allowing dwarves a glimpse into our world.
Thráin looked at her in surprise when he realized she was addressing him. "What?" he demanded from his place beside Elrond.
Galadriel looked over the dwarves, who were clustered together and spoke in a strong voice. "I request a change in dwarven policy. No more are females of your race to hide their beautiful faces behind beards of the dwarrow."
Thorin and Thráin locked gazes. "We managed to walk the length and breadth of this land with our females faces uncovered when fleeing Erebor," Thorin reminded his father.
Thráin let his mind wander over all he could remember about why they hid their females in public. Tradition, he decided was the best answer and they were as comely as elven and human ladies and didn't carry the misshaped faces Manwë cursed the seven original males with for Aulë's daring to create beings to worship him. The curse wasn't passed on to the females Manwë created as companions for them when he allowed them to waken and the females weren't given bodies and hearts of stone; for Manwë created the perfection Aulë only dreamed.
Everyone waited patiently waiting for the king to make his decision.
"Lady Galadriel, you have a deal, but when they travel these lands, due to their fare faces, they must be covered with beards," Thráin accepted formally and added his counteroffer.
"A reasonable compromise, King Thráin. I'm aware dwarven females don't cover their faces when other races are absent from your halls."
He turned to all the females in his group. "I hereby order you to bare your cheeks." He could see the older dams glaring, but Lióni and the younger lasses were more than willing to shed the bulky facial hair.
"I'm not telling you dams again," Thráin commanded and slowly the elder displayed their cheeks. "Tomorrow, I'll provide a written decree all beards banned in and near our halls, and send ravens throughout our realms." He turned back to the elves. "You see why we don't want them displayed. They don't carry the curse of Manwë."
"You have beautiful ladies," Arwen agreed and moved closer to get a better look at the females and assured them they looked so much prettier without jeweled beards.
When the dams realized men and elves hardly paid them any attention, they relaxed somewhat.
"I never thought I'd live to see this day," Aneht moaned.
"I'm sure the lords from other realms won't share your radical views on dams." Dis told her father when they started mingling again and moving out of the way to clear an area that Galadriel decreed.
"Now, daughter, we are entering a new age for dwarves and I think radical change will do us good. Why next, we might even have warrior dams." Thráin laughed and winked at Lióni, standing beside Thorin.
"It came to my attention that you were forced to flee with just the clothes on your backs," Elrond commiserated to Thráin. "When the group you sent over High Pass reached my lands, I invited them to stay and when they left, were laden with cloaks and blankets. Our cobblers repaired shoes and my armory supplied weapons. I sent warriors and my sons all the way to Ered Luin with them and not one night did they go hungry. I was disappointed that not one Durin was in the company though and to learn later that your group didn't fare so well."
Thráin listened respectfully to Elrond. "Father wouldn't allow any Durin an easy path. After sending the oldest and worst injured to the Iron Hills; the rest traveled south away from dragon fire until the south end of Long Lake. There we drew three lots sans any Durin's name. Five thousand went east and five thousand went west and the rest south with us. Lord Yose's father Lord Yotam, was their leader as I recall. Bring me your expenses and I'll make good," Thráin vowed.
Elrond's lips quirked upwards. "When we next meet, I'll do just that."
"I've been set up," Thráin complained, but joined in the laughter.
With only the bonfire for light and all other torches moved away, Galadriel commanded the night. She looked through the book and then laid it open on a table. In a clear voice she began the narrative.
"In the year 145 of the Third Age, Lady Ríllas wed King Thranduil on the fifth of July. Behold their day. The Valar will allow for the language to be heard in the tongue you are most comfortable with. Elves will hear it in Sindar, men in Westron and dwarves in Khuzdul." Galadriel stopped her speech and turned to the book and laid a hand sporting a beautiful ring of white diamonds. Suddenly flashes of light flew off the pages into the center of the open space. In a magical moment like in a play, the Havens came to life.
As if from the view of an eagle floating over the grounds, radiant sunshine graced the palace of Círdan from the air. Summer was at its zenith and flowers lined walkways displaying all the colors of the rainbow; from ankle high elanor and niphredil to arbors, trellises, fences and the walls of the palace covered in hundreds of shades of color. Lawns were manicured and sported an even green, both in sun and shade. Fountains poured forth with offerings of clear water. One large fountain, blown from blue glass and fashioned in the form of a fish offered ruby wine pouring from its mouth. Elves wandered the bucolic setting, dipping flutes in the wine fountains as they strolled.
The scene morphed steadily into an inner chamber. The lords who also graced tonight's supper were inside with Thranduil and he was only wearing a black pair of pants and his knee high boots of polished leather. To the dwarves surprise, Thranduil in the vision started talking and the voice rang clear and loud. "I have servants to assist me in dressing." He was looking at a row of tunics. Just as his hand reached for a garish red and orange, he was slapped in the face with a medium blue tunic.
"We dismissed your servants," the cheerful voice of Glorfindel replied. "Wear that one."
"Well?" Thranduil looked at Lord's Círdan, Elrond, Celeborn, Amroth and Erestor and added sarcastically. "Does Glorfindel's choice meet with your approval?"
"We are in your chambers my soon to be great nephew-in-law," Círdan spoke for the group, "to make sure your wife is the loveliest elf here today and all eyes on her and not the clown she is wedding. You don't need to be competing."
"Besides, that shade of blue matches your eyes," Erestor added, "and you also want your beloved's eyes only on you this momentous day. You want her gazing into your eyes all day."
"She does that now," Thranduil boasted.
"Put it on," Celeborn ordered in a tone that had Thranduil moving.
He quickly donned the garment and everyone could see it was the wisest choice of all displayed. Thranduil looked at his black armor. "Tell me, Celeborn, whatever possessed you to wear such armor on your wedding day? Did you know wedding Galadriel would be an eternity spent battling of wills?"
All eyes turned to Celeborn. Without a smile, he stated, "I wasn't sure her brother's, cousins and uncle wasn't planning a kinslaying."
"I know for a fact you wanted to impress her," Círdan laughingly replied.
"And Thranduil needs desperately to impress Ríllas," Glorfindel quipped as he looked through Thranduil's clothes. "Tell me, Thranduil, are you related to Ríllas? You know it is a requirement for all royalty to be somewhat related to the one they wed."
"We are breaking that tradition," Thranduil proudly stated. "I traced our lines clear back to Cuiviénen and not even a step-cousin showed up." While he talked he was preening in front of a full length mirror. "I think I'll wear the silver girdle with its long tail."
Glorfindel found it and held it up. "I think you should wear the orange sash." For effect, he also held that one high.
"Círdan said tone it down," Thranduil replied to Glorfindel.
"I will allow for one splash of color," the mariner conceded.
Glorfindel wadded it up and tossed the orange sash across the room. Everyone watched it unfurl and Thranduil snagged an end before it hit the floor. He wrapped and tied it with a pin in the shape of a silver sword. "This is the only sword I'm wearing today."
There was an exaggerated gasp from the lords and then they grinned. "I would never had shown up to my wedding without Hadhafang," Elrond jested. "Like Celeborn, I wasn't sure if the father of the bride wasn't into kinslaying." He threw a grin at his father-in-law.
"I kept her from you as long as I dared," Celeborn sniped back. "I wasn't going to harm you, but you didn't know that."
Elrond grinned at the memory he knew they both shared. "Your stand in talk in place of my adar convinced me otherwise."
"Told you, Erestor, that we should have been there for that private talk," Glorfindel complained.
"I had a similar talk with Thranduil," Círdan informed them and everyone saw Thranduil wince.
"My ears are still hurting from your butchering of the language," Thranduil complained. He reached for a sleeveless black robe that was open down the front and fell in pleats to the floor in the back. It rested over his shoulders leaving the long sleeved blue of his tunic exposed. Again he preened before the mirror.
Celeborn walked up behind him and placed a silver diadem with black gems on his head. "This was your father's. He left it at Lothlórien with Amdír long before the war. It graced his brow when he wed your mother."
Thranduil stopped smirking and looked lost for a moment and everyone could see his expression reflected in the mirror. In a quiet voice, he uttered, "I would give anything for him to be here today."
Celeborn's hands rested on his shoulders. "I had the same sentiment on my wedding day. And I'm sure Elrond did also and Amroth here will, if ever he works up courage to ask Nimrodel to be his wife."
Amroth smiled at everyone. "I asked her and she said she'd think about it."
"Bad sign," Círdan replied to Amroth. "My boy," he addressed Thranduil, "for once you look like an ellon about to wed the love of his life and not an overbearing kingling."
Everyone laughed and even Thranduil smiled. "I'm ready." He flipped the lid of an alabaster box open and pulled out a beautiful gold band.
"I looked in that box," Glorfindel complained.
Thranduil smirked at him. "I know and that's why I slipped it in after you departed my rooms last night. I knew you were trying to pilfer Ríllas' wedding band." He slipped it into a pocket of his tunic.
The scene switched to another chamber where the bride was already dressed. Her gown was shimmering white with a low bodice. Around her neck was a string of double pearls.
Galadriel handed her a girdle of bright orange.
Ríllas frowned. "I don't think it matches this dress. I want the sea green sash."
Galadriel gave her a mysterious smile. "This one will match Thranduil's clothes."
"Don't tell me, Celeborn told you what my intended is wearing and you don't want me to clash too badly. You know that's why I chose a white gown. It will go with any color scheme Thranduil can think up."
Celebrían laughed softly. "You have the same fears Elrond had on our wedding day. Only it was he who was concerned I wouldn't like his attire." She cocked her head, listening to only a voice she could hear. "Please excuse me. Lindis assures me the boys are done with their baths and I need to help dress them, or they will wear comfortable clothes instead of what I laid out." She hurried from the chamber.
Ríllas looked back into her mirror.
Galadriel silently handed her a sleeveless robe of pale orange. "Thranduil likes orange. In fact, he has exquisite tastes in colors. I wish Celeborn were more open to anything other than Sindar grey and white with black as his third choice." She opened a box on the table before the mirror and extracted the same diadem Thranduil was wearing. "This belonged to Lady Athadreil, Thranduil's mother. She wore it for the first time on her wedding day to King Oropher. I will tell you that Thranduil is wearing the mate to it." She set the silver circlet on the maiden's head.
Ríllas once again looked at her reflection. Pearls graced each lobe and makeup applied to perfection. Her hair was in swirls, held in place with pearl clips.
The scene switched again and the wedding party was assembled before a large trellis with sprays of orange trumpet vine. Thranduil and Ríllas stood before each other and Círdan performed the ceremony. Behind Thranduil was Celeborn and Galadriel; he wearing a white tunic and black pants tucked in knee high black boots and she a gown of pale yellow. Behind Ríllas stood Elrond and Celebrían; him in a tan tunic and black pants and boots and she wearing a pale yellow gown, same color as her mother. Elladan and Elrohir stood to each side of their parents and were endearing dressed identically like their father.
Círdan led the prayers and all except Celeborn uttered their parts with long practiced precision. "Ríllas, take Thranduil's right hand and remove his ring."
She complied and withdrew from a hidden pocket in the folds of her gown a gold band. She repeated the words Círdan led her in. "I, this day, wed Thranduil, son of Oropher, son of Landuil."
"Thranduil, take Ríllas' right hand and remove the betrothal ring."
Thranduil slid the ring off and handed it with a smirk to Glorfindel, who was standing at the foot of the raised platform. He pulled the golden ring from a pocket. "I, this day, wed Ríllas, daughter of Eluud, son of Ramsë." He pushed the ring gently in place.
Holding right hands and without prompting, both Thranduil and Ríllas recited together, "By the will of Eru Ilúvatar and grace and wisdom of Elbereth, I pledge my love and body and fëa to join together as husband and wife until the end of time. Before our family and friends, we are now joining into one fëa."
"Take both hands," Círdan instructed.
There was a space of silence where the audience only saw Celeborn, Galadriel, Elrond and Celebrían place hands over the couple's entwined hands. Thranduil suddenly nodded his head and all hands released.
Círdan was first to congratulate them. "May you be together in flesh until the end of time." He hugged and kissed Ríllas and then hugged Thranduil.
That stared a chain reaction led next by Galadriel and Celebrían and the scene for several minutes displayed the newly wedded couple working through the crowd and to a banquet table piled high with meats and salads. Small talk flowed with music in the background. After deserts, everyone took to the dancing area in the light of the torches and it faded when Thranduil led his bride to a carriage to return to her house.
Galadriel accepted earsplitting applause and whistles from the dwarven males and closed the book. Thorin stepped before her. "Lady, it would honor me to return what is obviously yours. And," he glanced at Thranduil, "I got a glimpse of the only female in all Middle Earth dense enough to wed you."
Thranduil was still composing himself and almost missed the slight. He recovered fast. "I rescued your intended and it seems she was trying to run away before arriving. If she follows through with the farce of a dwarven wedding, her judgement is questionable."
Lióni stepped out and addressed both of them with fire in her eyes. "Thorin, that was a despicable thing to say. And I assure you, King Thranduil, I wasn't scared of you or your band of thugs when you came upon me." She lifted her head and defied him to laugh.
Instead, Thranduil walked in slow circle around her.
"What are you looking at?" she snapped.
"I'm trying to figure why Mandos sent my wife back as a dwarf." He turned to Thorin. "Marry this one. A year with her sharp tongue and you'll be begging for your hundred year sentence in my dungeon."
"It's been commuted, my dear king," Thráin called out to laughter from all sides.
"I suggest we change the topic and dance." Círdan's raised voice was heard clearly over the rumble of conversations. "I've instructed our musicians to play songs of the dwarves and men first."
Thorin looked at his father and sister and they signed he should dance with Lióni. He offered a hand to her and led the way to the dancing area.
Lióni was glad for darkness to hide her blush and growing desire to be pressed against the hard muscles of her intended. His large, warm hand engulfed hers and she wanted to feel them touching other areas.