Chapter Text
Galadriel stood in front of a full-length mirror in her bedroom. This was it. Her last minutes spent in this room as a maiden. Well, not really a maiden, of course, firstly because of her previous marriage, but more so because of this past day. When both she and Elrond called in sick, Gil-galad worriedly showed up at her door asking whether he could help with anything and if they wanted to postpone the wedding. He also remarked that she looked very flushed and that she might have a fever that should be taken care of. Moreover, he expressed his concern about not finding Elrond in his apartments, to which she was quick to answer that he already went to see the healers. In reality, Elrond was in her bedroom, more specifically in her bed, and he was complaining to her a few minutes before that he was going to die. However, his state of unwell had little to do with being sick and a lot to do with very little sleep and almost constant lovemaking the previous night and that morning after he saw her home but had a hard time leaving her. She did her best to reassure Gil-galad that everything was in order and they would be ready to go through with the celebrations. When he finally left, she rushed back to her bedroom, and ignoring her friend’s - not particularly convincing - pleas for a break, she took off her dressing robe. She was pleased to remember that this was enough for Elrond to forget about getting some rest. They were in the middle of making love on her dressing table when someone knocked on her door again. She was tempted to disregard it, but Elrond - who was the more level-headed of them - reminded her that not answering might result in getting her door forcefully opened by whoever was outside and being discovered in this very compromising situation. It was not easy to persuade the healer on her doorstep that her blushed face, racing heart, and elevated blood pressure were not from a dangerous malady. It didn’t help either that she had to come up with a lie about the strange, chuckle-like noises that were coming from her bedroom. She ended up telling the healer that her sink broke and the water was dripping, and that’s what was making those strange sounds. Although the healer was less than reassured, she left. Galadriel returned to her bedroom to get sweet revenge on Elrond. She had been teasing his rock-hard member with her mouth and her hands for several minutes, only to hear another knock from the entrance. She threatened Elrond with a mouth gag if he as much as made a sound and stomped to her door. A pipe fitter was standing there, jovially inquiring about the broken tap. Galadriel closed her eyes, counted to ten, then sweetly informed the craftsman that she had already fixed the tap and slammed the door in his face and locked it. Elrond needed all his charm to prove to her that letting him live and love her was a much better option than murdering him in the middle of her own bedroom. Even so, she made sure that he did his penance for his troublemaking and only let him off the hook when he told her that he really wouldn’t be able to stand on his two feet the next day if she demanded any more sex.
Her fond musings were interrupted by the vivacious voice of Disa, who had just stepped into the room.
“Sweet fruits of Yavanna! You look gorgeous, dear!”
“Thank you.” - smiled Galadriel, and she extended both her hands towards the dwarf queen. She held them and looked at her more thoroughly. Galadriel chose a silk velvet rose gold fabric in a muted shade as her wedding dress. It had a beautifully embellished low bateau neckline with small gems, and the gathered material was hanging luxuriously over her chest and was draped again at her waist, accentuating her slim figure. It had long, tight-fitted sleeves, which were similarly decorated as her neckline. The skirt was gathered as well and hung perfectly on her hips and ended up in a small train. The weather turned colder again, and yesterday the temperature was only a few degrees above freezing, so her long winter coat was on the armchair, waiting to be put on.
“Are you ready?” - asked Disa.
“As ready as I can be.” - answered Galadriel and turned back to the mirror.
“You are always radiant, but today there is a special glow around you.” - added the dwarf, standing next to her.
“Is there?” - she said and bit her lip a little to try to hide her smile. She had a very good idea about what was causing that special glow.
“Well, it had always been there when I saw you and Elrond together, but I can say that it’s even stronger now.”
She was bursting with the need to tell someone, and Disa was becoming her closest female friend, so she took the leap.
“Hmm… it might have to do with our indisposition yesterday.”
“Oh, I hope it was not too serious, these… wait a second…” - Disa narrowed her eyes and took a suspicious glance at her. Galadriel let out a chuckle and averted her gaze but felt the familiar heat of slight embarrassment coloring her cheeks.
“Awww, dearie. I take it it was a… pleasant experience?” - inquired the queen with an affectionately amused expression.
“Oh, Disa… I never thought I would be loved and… pleasured like that.” - she glanced back at her only from the corner of her eyes, but her face was beaming.
“I wouldn’t have expected anything else from that kind and generous darling.” - the dwarf inclined her head and winked at Galadriel.
“I am so immensely happy, Disa. And still…” - here she lowered her eyes and nervously wrung her hands.
“What is wrong, dear?”
“I can’t help it. Deep down in my heart there is a constant fear that I will lose him as well, the same way I lost Celeborn.”
“I wish I could say that it won’t happen, but nothing in life is guaranteed. It is natural to be worried for our loved ones. We worry about our parents, grandparents, siblings, and friends, and if Eru blesses you with children, you will worry about them from the first moment you know that you carry them under your heart. But you can’t let that fear consume you and prevent you from actually living the life you were supposed to. After all, would you rather spend all your days in anguish rather than let yourself enjoy the happy moments, one day at a time?”
She didn’t even realize that tears were rolling down her face until she saw Disa’s golden eyes brimming with them too. She hugged her tightly.
“Aulë’s beard! What is going on here with all the weeping? I thought there was a wedding today, not a funeral!” - shouted Durin as he burst into the room.
“Durin, did anyone ever tell you that you have a special talent for barging in on people while they are having a moment?” - grunted Disa.
“Yes. You do. Multiple times. On a daily basis.” - countered his husband, and the interaction made Galadriel laugh. She hoped that after long years of marriage, she would still have the same playful bickering with her soon-to-be husband as these two did.
“Anyway, I’m outta here; I was just looking for Elrond.”
“He is in his apartments as far as I know.” - mentioned Galadriel.
“All right, I’ll fetch him. We will meet you at the ceremony.”
———
Elrond had the worst case of sore muscles of his entire life. Even running a third of the way from Tyrn Gorthad to Lindon did not leave him with such an awful case of muscle strain as making love to the most ravenous elleth in Middle-earth for twelve hours. He knew that his walk was stiff and ungainly, despite trying to keep his pace slow and measured. Nienna have mercy on him; even lifting his arm to comb his hair was an ordeal, so after one attempt he desisted and told himself that Galadriel would not object to his messy hair and he didn’t care about the opinions of others. He was in the midst of the arduous task of putting on his doublet without getting a back cramp when Durin casually strolled in and scared the living daylight out of him.
“Ready for the big event?”
“I think so.” - said Elrond and smoothed the front of his doublet, checking if all the clasps and buttons were in place. He ran his hand through his hair and resisted the urge to wince in pain when he raised his arm.
“You look different. I can’t put my finger on it.” - huffed the dwarf and grabbed Elrond’s coat from the table and offered it to him.
“Hmm… maybe it’s the hair?”
“No. No, there is something else. There is a different glint in your eyes. And the way you carry yourself, there is a certain…”
Here he stopped, his eyes widened, and he froze with his mouth hanging open. Elrond turned towards him and raised a graceful eyebrow while a smug smile settled upon his face.
“Nooo! Noooohohoooo. You did it! You smooth-tongued seducer!” - roared Durin and pointed his finger at him.
“Yes, well, apparently I am very smooth-tongued.” - laughed Elrond.
“Show off. How do you even know about these things?” - shrugged Durin and squinted at him.
“Books.” - said the Half-elven nonchalantly, and he took a sip of his tea that he had just fetched from the table.
“You are shitting me.” - glared at him the dwarf king.
“I am not shitting you, whatever that means.” - scrunched his eyebrows the groom, mildly amused.
“How many times?”
“Durin!” - he coughed after - upon hearing the question - a gulp of his tea went the wrong direction.
“I can see that you are full of yourself; don’t even deny it. You are dying to brag about your stamina.”
“A gentleman does not talk about these things.”
“Yeah, well, you are an elf, and I am a dwarf, so I don’t see any gentlemen here.”
“We lost count after ten. That’s when I started to get a little… winded.” - said the Half-elven and hid his smile behind the rim of his mug.
“Your memories have to be murky again. I’m pretty sure it took you more than an equivalent of ten rounds of romping to get winded when we were engaged in the Sigin-tarâg.”
“I’m telling you, those ten rounds were by far more strenuous and exhausting than splitting rocks with you.” - said Elrond and he was sure that a dreamy look formed on his face. He would take that delightful exercise every single day of his remaining life.
“Pfff, I would like to see that!” - blurted out Durin, but as soon as the words left his mouth, his expression turned horrified. “No, I mean, I definitely do not want to see it! I would not, I mean, I’m not some sort of freak who would… ah, never mind.”
Elrond - who just took an absent sip of his tea again - burst into laughter, and this caused another coughing fit, so his dwarf friend ended up hitting his back - or rather his waist, given their height difference - a few times before the elf indicated with his hand that he was actually better off without the help. It took another minute and a good laugh mixed with more clearing of his throat for the situation to settle down. The dwarf king was still frazzled and was standing next to the table, looking like he was hesitating about saying something. Eventually he spilled the beans.
“So listen, I wanted to give you these. I know you might have some fashioned for you already, but I would be glad if you took them.”
He was holding two rings on his palm. They were simple, elegant designs. The larger of them was a hammered gold circlet; the smaller one had a frosted surface. The morning light gleamed brightly on their eternal curvature. Elrond’s heart filled with gratitude as he took them and studied them more closely.
“You honor me, old friend. We will cherish them until either our incarnate bodies or the foundations of Arda cease to exist.” - he bowed his head and tried to keep the tears from his eyes.
“I could have done something much better if I had had the time, but I didn’t have my own tools. And of course the gold from Kazad-dûm would have been far superior, but I had no idea I would need such a thing when we set out from there-”
“Please, Durin, stop apologizing. They are flawless. And even if they weren’t, it’s a gift from you, therefore, they would be perfect for me and Galadriel. Besides… we know it very well that beauty and perfection of any objects made by the hand of man, elf, dwarf, or Maia does not always equal goodness. However, when it comes to you, mellon, I have no doubt about the purity of these bands.”
At this point Durin’s sniffing was a conspicuous sign of badly suppressed tears. Elrond bent down a little bit and gave him a slightly awkward half-hug that Durin readily reciprocated. As they drew apart, the dwarf straightened his back and shook his head a little, trying to put on a composed countenance.
“All right, so are we ready to go then? Give those rings back to me before you lose them; I will take care of them until it’s time to present them. Well… you might need to nudge me a bit, because my Elvish is a bit rusty, so I’m not sure I will be able to follow the curlicued bits during the ceremony.”
“No worries, friend, I will be paying attention.” - winked Elrond and, with his arm, indicated towards the entrance.
———
The meadow looked very different from the way it did a few months ago. At night it snowed, and the ground and the bare twigs of bushes and trees were now covered with a blanket of white. The small stream was frozen; the area where it disappeared into the rocks formed an icefall. It was cold, below freezing, but the sun immersed the hidden nook in a warm light. One area was cleared a bit, and a wedding arch was erected. The wooden beam was covered with fir, pine, and ivy and was decorated with pine cones, holly, mistletoe, and dried anemone flowers. Each crimson, blush and white one of them was meticulously handmade from the flower shells. A small path leading to the arch was lined with several dozen crimson and white candles, which were charming, even in their unlit state. A small group of people was gathered close to the arch. Elven weddings were larger affairs; however, neither Galadriel nor Elrond had their close family members around; therefore, they decided to conduct a more intimate ceremony. They didn’t want to curtail the folk of Imladris of some merriment, though, so a feast was scheduled for that evening. But now only Glorfindel and Círdan, Durin and Disa, Vorohil, Camnir, and Arondir were standing next to Gil-galad. By virtue of authority, Gil-galad was given the role of conducting the celebration. Elrond and Durin got to the mead shortly before the scheduled start of the service, and now everyone was waiting for Galadriel to make her entrance from behind the curtain of ivy that was hanging at the concealed entrance. Elrond was nervous. He didn’t even really know why. He meant to make her happy, content, excited, fulfilled, and simply whole. The way she made him feel like. Menacing times were coming, and they needed each other now more than ever. As he was contemplating the future, the ivy parted and Galadriel appeared. Elrond could have sworn that even the sun shone directly at her as she serenely started walking towards him. She was gorgeous. She wore a long fur coat above the rose gold dress that was only visible around her ankles and feet. The coat was made of long strips of white rabbit fur, and it was all stitched together and then mounded onto a very slender, corset-style base. Narrow strips of crimson-dyed fur were alternating with the slightly wider white ones. The contouring of it helped to define the shape, and the wide shoulders and the crimson-colored leather panels on her sides emphasized her small waist. Her hair was unbound, a flowing silver-gold river on her shoulders and back. He was mesmerized. As she got closer, he saw that the crisp weather painted a slight blush on her cheeks, which made her even more endearing to him. She gave him a bright smile, and in that moment all uncertainty and nervousness left him, because her orbs were filled with the same love he carried in his heart towards her. They clasped both their hands together, Nenya and Vilya humming a solemn tune that only they could hear, then turned towards Gil-galad. The High King lifted his hands, and his eyes took in all that were present.
“Hail all that gathered together to celebrate the union of these two servants of the One who is above all thrones forever. He is All-Powerful, and loves all his creations and rejoices in the love that grows between them.”
He looked at them kindly and in his beautiful baritone he started singing a hymn that was both exalted and joyous.
Ilyë cuinë kelvar Ardanóressë lindar aistalyo
Nás i taura i ilyë
Aistainë melyë sanwelyo ar hannameldo
Á alyë sé ar i Valar
All living creatures of Arda sing his praise
He is the mightiest of all
We are blessed through his will and his grace
Rejoice in him and the Valar
———
The last notes of the melody died down. Galadriel thought back to all that had happened in these past several months, and as she locked gazes with Gil-galad, they both knew that they had gone far. They were not the rebellious commander and the strict ruler any more. She tried to convey all her gratitude in that look, and Gil-galad’s eyes reflected an understanding of sorts.
“I ask you to say your vows by which you bind yourself to the other.” - declared the King. Both Galadriel and Elrond shifted a bit so they could face each other. He was so very handsome. His hair was all over the place, which reminded her of their endless lovemaking the previous day, when she ran her hands through his locks over and over again. He was wearing a fitted knee-length grey coat that was lined with grey fur on its front closure and its lapels. His bluish-grey eyes were sparkling as if the light of his father’s star would be shining through them. The sharp angle of his jaw was so inviting that she had to restrain herself from placing a kiss there.
Gil-galad addressed Elrond first, whose eyes bore to hers, and said:
”Merin verya i elessë sina, melilya ar varya lyë tenna i metta Ardanen ar epë tá.” I wish to marry this elleth to cherish and protect her until the end of Arda and beyond.
She squeezed his hands a bit stronger. The divine force of Nenya and Vilya was wrapping unbreakable bonds between them. Galadriel closed her eyes for a brief second and thought of Celeborn and let out a silent, final farewell to him. Gin hannon, Celeborn. Ú-bedin le aphado.
When she opened them again, she saw that Gil-galad turned towards her.
”Merin verya i ellon sina, melilya ar varya lyë tenna i metta Ardanen ar epë tá.” I wish to marry this ellon to cherish and protect him until the end of Arda and beyond.
“I ask all of you to repeat these blessings after me.” - stated the High King.
Nai melmelya siluva calima ve i eleni Vardo * May your love shine as bright as the stars of Varda
Nai melmelya nauva taura ve Manwë * May your love be as mighty as Manwë
Nai Vairë websë lëa cuilëlya quanta alassëo * May Vairë weave a tapestry of your life full of happiness
Nai ilyë lúmë tyaritalyë erya ve Námo * May you always judge each other as justly as Námo
As Galadriel was reciting the sacred invocations, she saw that all present were fighting to keep their tears at bay. Círdan looked at them with his usual jovial smile, a wise elf who had seen so many bonds being forged before but who could still revel in the happiness of each one of those holy unions.
Nai i nárolya nauva moica ve Estë * May your bond be as gentle as Estë
Camnir had a very solemn expression on his face. It was evident that he was profoundly moved by the ceremony and echoed the blessings with an almost childlike wonder.
Nai melmelya ar irmilya tyarë mi Irmo * May your love and desire be guided by Irmo
Nai melmelya tuia i yávi vanyë ve i yondor Yavannëo * May your love bring forth fruits as beautiful as the creations of Yavanna
Nai caritalyë náro nuruva ve i yondor Aulëo * May you forge a bond as unbreakable as the creations of Aulë
Durin and Disa were holding each other’s hands, and the former’s face was one of a proud brother while the latter wore a motherly smile.
Nai melmelya liruva vinya ve Vána * May your love remain as youthful as Vána
Galadriel felt for Arondir, because no matter how bravely he tried to put on a joyful face, he couldn’t hide the deep sadness in his eyes. A few days ago he confided in her about his love who was lost in the Southlands. Galadriel prayed to Eru that he would find peace someday.
Nai i nárolya nauva voronda ve Oromë * May your bond be as persistent as Oromë
Vorohil bore an unusually self-satisfied grin, so much so that Galadriel made a mental note about asking him later what brought it on.
Nai melmelya nauva órava ve Nienna * May your love be as compassionate as Nienna
Nai caritalyë varyar Eldaron ar Edain ve Ulmo * May you act as guardians of the Elves and the Edain, similar to Ulmo
Nai i nárolya nauva tára ve Tulkas * May your bond be as strong as Tulkas
Glorfindel’s bright eyes were shining with the light of Valinor, his mighty form an emissary of the Valar itself. Still, he was their friend and their kin, and Galadriel could never be grateful enough for the role he played in making this union possible.
Nai coalyë nauva quanta alassëo ar lilmelë ve coa Nessa * May your home be full of mirth and dancing as the home of Nessa
Gil-galad reached the final verse and gave both of them a sincere nod, but his voice carried an unusual lightness and friendly warmth that was devoid of his regal tone. In that very moment he was here as their friend, not as their sovereign.
“Sí i venno ar i vessë coapari cionyar yassë yatyar tanwë meldamorion.“
There was a brief pause. Elrond cleared his throat a bit. Silence. He coughed a bit again and twitched his head to the side, in the direction of Durin. Galadriel let out a small giggle. This - and a tug of his arm from Disa - brought the dwarf out of his reverie, and he stepped forward.
“Do you understand a single word from the ceremony?” - whispered the Half-elven to his pal as he reached for the rings.
“You know, a phrase here and there.” - shrugged Durin and flashed a grin - “No worries; we got the important parts.” - he added and winked. Elrond raised both of his eyebrows in amusement and smiled back, then resumed his place next to Galadriel. She took the larger ring from his palm and did not remiss sending a grateful nod to Durin and Disa. She then took her husband’s right hand and slid the ring to the index finger. How perfect it was, the hand of a healer, a poet, and a lover. Its warmth was incomparable, its touch light, yet its strength indomitable. He took her right hand and slipped her ring on, then gave a soft kiss to her knuckles. It was impossibly hard to break off from his kind-as-summer orbs, but she knew that the faster they finished, the more time they would have to cherish each other’s bodies before the evening feast.
“Now, we know that we could never even come close to taking the place of your parents, but allow us to give you the gifts of a mother and a father in their absence.” - said Gil-galad. The pang of pain that went through Galadriel at the mention of her parents, far away in Valinor, was instantly replaced by a surge of warmth in her chest when Disa stepped forward with a stunning jewel on a chain. It was a green gem in a silver eagle-shaped encasing. As Galadriel looked through it, she saw everything that was withered as young once more; the trees were in full bloom, flowers covering the ground instead of the bare, snow-covered soil. She looked at Disa with a thousand questions in her eyes.
“This gem was not made by dwarven hands, my dear, except for the chain upon which it hangs. Our warriors found it in a hidden vault at the destroyed workshop of Celebrimbor when they fought with the orc army in Ost-in-Edhil. Celebrimbor himself gave them the directions to the safe and to give the contents of it to you before he went to confront the Dark Lord one last time. It was in a case that said Elessar on it. He must have wanted you to have it.” - she gave her a bittersweet smile and hung the jewel on her neck. She touched it, and as she did, Nenya sent a visage of a striking beauty, her hair dark, her eyes grey, exactly like Elrond’s. She was standing next to a man, brown-haired, bearded, regal, with a crown on his head. Then the vision was gone as fast as it came on. Elrond was looking at her, concerned. She just smiled and shook her head a bit.
“Do not worry melethrilen nîn, I will tell you later.”
Now Círdan walked up to them and turned to Elrond. He was holding a brooch in his hand, a blue jewel set in silver, that formed the shape of Vingilot, his father’s sky-ship.
“Your father gave this to me long ago. He asked me to safekeep it and give it to you upon your wedding.” - he told him, pinned the brooch on his coat, and gave him a tight hug. Galadriel could hear him whisper to Elrond’s ear - “He would be very proud of you.”
When they broke apart and Círdan stepped back, she drew her husband close and held him tight, touching her forehead to his, wiping away the tears that found their way to his cheeks. They stayed in this embrace until they found their composure again and turned back to the others.
Nai omentië enëtiyo uva martya ilyë i antimë Eru Ilúvatáro * May the union of these two bear all the blessings of Eru Ilúvatar
As soon as the High King uttered the closing prayer, their friends erupted into cheers and came up to them.
“Where is the kiss?!” - shouted Durin and the others laughed. Galadriel blushed a bit while holding Elrond in a half-hug. She didn’t have a lot of time to get embarrassed, though, because her husband dramatically grabbed her waist and bent her backwards, then placed a bold and deep kiss on her lips. They laughed as they came up for air, and Galadriel hid her face in Elrond’s chest.
“Well, that was much more passionate than the first one I saw.” - blurted out Vorohil, then as if he just realized that he said it out loud, he put his hand in front of his mouth, a guilty look in his eyes.
“So it was you!” - cried out the newlyweds, their subsequent complaints drowned by the roaring laughter coming from the entire group.
“I mean… who else could it have been?” - tugged Vorohil at his collar, the usual sign of his uneasiness, then joined the general merriment as they made their way back towards the settlement.
———
The wedding feast was a sweeping success. Every living soul who was in Imladris was in attendance. The assembly hall was decorated with evergreens, holly, and mistletoe; candles were lit as long as the eyes could see, the tables were overflowing with food and drinks, and the floor was packed with dancing couples. The notes of jolly music and spirited conversation filled the air. Earlier in the evening, Gil-galad addressed the inhabitants of the settlement and issued a decree where he officially named Elrond the Lord of Imladris and Galadriel the Lady of Imladris. Durin also said a couple of words and thanked them for their hospitality and friendship.
Since Galadriel was swept away by another elf for a dance, Elrond made his way towards his friends, who were sitting at one of the long tables and were engrossed in conversation.
“I’m telling you, the small-swords are the best. Very effective! They are compact, so they are an ideal weapon for close combat, especially in tight formations or confined spaces. The short blade allows me to make quick, precise thrusts and slashes. It’s a definitive advantage in chaotic combat situations. Also, when attacked, I can block the blow with either sword and attack with the other. This gives me a great range of possibilities to overcome my opponent.” - said Vorohil excitedly. Arondir, Glorfindel, and Durin were listening closely and were quick to share their own opinion.
“Yeah, but a second sword is never as good at blocking things as a shield.” - remarked Glorfindel.
“Plus, you can only generate so much power with a short sword. Against well-armored opponents, they are not the best weapon. You need to be pretty suicidal to try to attack an armored opponent with short swords!” - added Durin - “I myself would never part with my war axe. Fast and very effective against enemies in armor. Combined with a shield, I close in and smack the wretched orc on the head!”
“My bow and arrows are my faithful companions. They allow me to fight the enemy without engaging in close-range combat as long as it is possible.” - said Arondir and drank a bit of ale.
“So Elrond, what do you say? Which one would you prefer?” - they asked him when they saw him standing there and listening in.
“To be honest with you, I would prefer not having to use either one if possible.” - answered the Half-elven earnestly. Maybe he was a politician at heart after all. He would rather avoid a fight and negotiate if there was even a narrow possibility of settling things peacefully. Alas, he recognized that such a move would not be an option in the upcoming war. He was worried that his other skill as a healer was going to be put to use as well.
“Come on, you are no fun.” - Durin waved his hand at him. The Half-elven just shrugged and smiled, grabbing a goblet of wine from a tray. Vorohil excused himself from their company when a pretty blonde elleth passed their table. Elrond saw him asking her for a dance, and then the two of them disappeared amidst the colorful crowd on the dance floor. The rest of the group went back to debating the effect of different alloys on the blade sharpness of swords in puzzling detail.
On the other side of the table, Camnir was listening keenly to Círdan, who was talking from firsthand experience about West Beleriand and the Falas, the Isle of Balar, and the River Sirion, all of this in a fashion that was infinitely more exciting than any geography book description would ever be. Disa and Gil-galad were bonding over the proper preparation of a bacon-wrapped venison tenderloin, and Elrond was wondering how on Arda they had arrived at this topic and how it was possible that the High King’s interest in culinary endeavors was news to him after knowing him for more than a thousand years. He looked back to the dance floor, where Galadriel was now engaged in a line dance with about twenty other elves. She was so beautiful and carefree as she twirled, jumped, and swayed, not a bother in the world in that moment. It was a welcome sight to see her like this after so much suffering. As he stood there in the middle of the assembly hall, Elrond’s whole being was filled with a quiet serenity. No matter the inevitable sorrow of war that was about to come, they would always have this, the memory of a warm embrace of true friendship.
———
Galadriel was so caught up in dance after dance that it took her some time to notice that her husband was not in the hall anymore. Nenya gave her a small nudge to go towards the side entrance, so she followed her lead. There was an expansive raised terrace there that continued into a semi-landscaped area that was covered with snow now. Her eyes needed a moment to get accustomed to the dim light after the brightness of the room, but soon she noticed the standing form of the Lord of Imladris next to the rail that lined the terrace. He was looking at the western sky. Even in the darkness, the gem on his coat seemed to shine from within with the light of the evening star. Galadriel slowly approached him and hugged him from behind. He gave a deep sigh and bent his head backwards.
“And I thought you would want to have a dance with your new wife, Lord Elrond.” - she said flirtatiously. He covered her hands with his own, then entwined their fingers.
“Now fair and marvellous was that vessel made, and it was filled with a wavering flame, pure and bright; and Eärendil the Mariner sat at the helm, glistening with dust of elven-gems, and the Silmaril was bound upon his brow. Far he journeyed in that ship, even into the starless voids; but most often was he seen at morning or at evening, glimmering in sunrise or sunset, as he came back to Valinor from voyages beyond the confines of the world.” - he cited in his soft voice that she loved much.
“Gil-Estel, the Star of High Hope.” - she whispered and looked at the bright star above, traversing the sky in an eternal cycle. “Círdan is right. He must be very proud of you, melethron nîn. I am so sorry that you had to go through so much suffering in your life. My parents are far away, but at least I know that they are well. Even Finrod is. And I hope to see them and talk to them one day if we sail to Valinor. But it is different for you… I can’t imagine how hard it must be.”
“Come here; you are freezing.” - said Elrond and drew her to his front and wrapped her in his own coat and cape. The warmth of his body enveloped her, his scent like sea mist and old parchments in this steely night, and she smiled as she thought back and remembered the scent of athelas, that she now knew was him. The dearest thing to her fëa.
“I do talk to him sometimes. Sounds ludicrous, I know. But deep down I hope he hears me. And my mother… Every now and then, small birds come to me, and I swear to you, they keep on singing sweet little melodies that sound just like my mother’s lullaby used to. I hope you do not think of me as an insane person.” - he told her and looked down with a half-smile on his lips.
“Why would I? The ways of Eru are unfathomable. But now you have me till the end of all time. I will not forsake you, I promise.” - she vowed.
“I know that, melethril nîn.”
He caressed her back and moved his hands to her neck, playing with the soft hairs there. She stood on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. Then one kiss became two, two became six, and they were out of breath and had to come up for air.
“Do you think they would miss us in there?” - asked Elrond, his hardness pressing to her groin.
“I don’t think so… but even if they do, I don’t care.” - she answered with a smile - “Let’s go, Lord Elrond. I show you how to open a chemise properly.”
As they set off to sneak away from the festivities, they heard the rustling of a bush, and their keen eyes spotted a couple concealed halfway behind a statue in an unambiguous embrace. They looked at each other, his familiar bearing, the clothes he wore, and the red hair leaving no doubt about the identity of the ellon. A mischievous smile spread across their faces as they said, almost in unison:
“It would be too good of an opportunity to just let it go.”