Title: Midsummer's Eve
Author: meoinya
Synopsis: A simple bit of fluff called a wedding…
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Yes. Return of the King
Pairing: Aragorn / Arwen.
Disclaimer: I'm not Tolkien. I don't own these characters. (darn!) I make no money. Done for fun.
Additional Info: Movie-verse. I'm sure we'll see some of the wedding when the film is released in 2003. This is my version. Yes, Yes, I realize they were wed on ‘Midsummer’s Day’ but this sounded better….
Archive: If you like, just tell me where.
"You're nervous."
"I am not." Aragorn paced, occasionally glancing out the tall window at the decorated grounds below. Everything was beautiful. Everything was perfect. Everything was ready. Except him.
"Yes you are." Elladan grinned at his brother. " The sooner you admit it, the better off you will be."
Aragorn stopped and regarded his brother with a defeated look.
The Elf chuckled.
"I wasn't this nervous at my coronation." Aragorn resumed his pacing.
"You weren't marrying my sister and a woman you've loved for the better part of your adult life then either." Elladan struggled to wipe the amused look off his face but failed miserably. Seeing his normally strong and resolute brother so anxious was much more fun that he could ever have hoped.
Before Aragorn could frame a retort, the doors opened and in strode Elrohir and Faramir, both sporting wide grins.
"He's not dressed!" Faramir gaped at Elladan before shooting Aragorn, and his lack of formal attire, a shocked stare.
"Yes I am." Aragorn glanced down at his state of dress and continued his pacing.
Elrohir stifled a chuckle after exchanging an amused glance with his brother.
Faramir was aghast. "The ceremony begins in less than ten minutes and you barely have your pants on!"
When the recently appointed Lord of Ithilien received no response from the King, he stopped and regarded the man with a curious stare. "You're nervous." It wasn't a question.
"If you would all kindly stop reminding me, perhaps I would be able to shake this feeling!" Aragorn glanced at each of them briefly before continuing to pace the length of his dressing chamber. Even the deep, calming, meditative breathing techniques he'd learned as a child were not working.
This comment sent all three men into fits of laughter until Aragorn stopped and pinned Faramir to the wall with an icy glare. "Remember this day when you wed Eowyn in two weeks time."
The retort wiped the smile off Faramir's face with an effectiveness for which the twins had give their brother his due credit.
The Lord of Ithilien gulped.
One down, two very annoying brothers to go.
Perhaps Aragorn could rid himself of his nervousness by thinking of ways to get back at them.
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"You look radiant."
Arwen took one final glance in the mirror before turning toward her grandmother. Her smile permeated her entire being and she all but glowed with happiness.
The Elven Queen of Lorien took her granddaughter's hands and squeezed them gently. "I wish your mother could be here to see this."
The light in Arwen's eyes momentarily flickered with remorse but was quickly masked by the knowledge that Celebrian would be happy that her daughter had found such joy. Regardless it was in the arms of a mortal man.
"I will miss her." Arwen said sadly. "But I know she would be happy for me."
Galadriel nodded.
"And you will bring to her a tale of these events, and my love, when you sail over the Sea." Arwen said, knowing full well that her grandmother's intention was to leave Middle-Earth. The call of the Sea had become so very great since the destruction of the Ring.
"Not a detail will be left out." Galadriel said, brushing the back of her hand lovingly against her granddaughter's cheek
They stood in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts about the Sea until Galadriel's sharp intake of breath drew Arwen out of her momentary reverie. "It is nearly time."
Arwen's eyes lit with an anticipation that Galadriel had never before seen in the young one's eyes. In all her long years of life, the Queen of Lorien had no doubt it was a joy she would never see again
The door opened slowly and Eowyn poked her head in, wide smile alighting her attractive features. "Are you ready?"
"I've been ready for a very long time," Arwen said as she smoothed her dress and followed Eowyn and her grandmother out the door and down the corridor that would take her to the man she loved more than anything in Middle-Earth.
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"They can't start without you." Elrohir grinned at Faramir as he worked to get Aragorn dressed as quickly as possible.
Aragorn stood in the middle of the room as Faramir settled layer upon layer of colorfully embroidered clothing around his King.
"Would you stop being so uncooperative!" Faramir grumbled as Aragorn shrugged his shoulders.
"You're suffocating me." Aragorn complained, eyes narrowing at the mess Faramir was beginning to make with the clothing. It had been neatly pressed.
"You are going to be late for your own wedding if you don't let me help you with this!" Faramir exclaimed with an exasperated sigh.
"You are fumbling with it as badly as I," Aragorn stopped fussing and simply stood there while Faramir attempted to quickly fasten the ornate buttons.
Faramir grumbled in defeat as Elrohir rested a hand on his shoulder - a quiet elven way to inform him to get out of the way.
"I'm fumbling because I'm in a hurry," Faramir held up the long, silken cloak and waited for Elrohir to finish. "You were fumbling out of - nervousness." Faramir dragged out the last word in such a way that the twins had to stifle another chuckle.
"The teasing I am being forced to endure will be nothing in comparison to what you shall go through on the day of your wedding," Aragorn seethed and shrugged as Faramir stepped behind him to drape the cloak across his shoulders. Elrohir fastened the clasp at his brother's neck and stepped away.
"You clean up nicely, Estel." Elladan said with a wide smile.
"Indeed," Elrohir stepped beside his brother and gave Aragorn a once-over to make sure not a hair was out of place. "A far cry from the look of a Ranger we thought you'd adopted for life."
Faramir grinned but wiped the look off his face quickly when Aragorn turned to look at him. He wasn't going to give the King any more reason to make his own wedding day a living nightmare.
Aragron took a deep, anxious breath. "All right. Let's go. I'm not getting any less nervous, and I have a wedding to attend!"
"Before you dishonor my sister by delaying her wedding and we have to hold back our father from slitting your throat?" Elrohir quipped as he opened the door and led the men down the corridor toward the great hall.
Their laughter echoed off the walls and Aragorn merely muttered. "Something like that."
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The great hall was a picture come to life out of a child’s fairy tale. The traditions and designs of both the Gondorian people and the elves were intertwined so thoroughly that you could not tell where one ended and the other began.
Guards lined the entrance, dressed in their finest, watching carefully the people as they arrived and chatted excitedly about the décor and their expectations for how the wedding would be performed. It was plainly clear, from the moment of Aragorn’s crowning – when Gandalf had placed the winged crown of Gondor upon the King’s brow, that his rule would be one steeped deeply in tradition – but not always Gondorian tradition.
A bell sounded.
Once, Twice, Three times. Silence fell over the crowd as the people looked expectantly toward where the King would enter.
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Aragorn paced.
They’d stopped at the entrance to the hall, waiting for the right time to signal the royal guards to open the large doors. But the right time would be when Aragorn was no longer pacing like a caged animal and instead standing still bearing the regal posture of the King he had become.
“Would you stop already!” Faramir nearly took Aragorn by the shoulders and shook him. “You’re going to wear a hole into the floor!”
“Keep it up, Faramir.” Aragorn stopped pacing long enough to raise a hand in warning. “Your wedding is in two very short weeks…” The King trailed off, the threat more than sufficient to shut up the Lord of Ithilien.
Faramir gulped and muttered a quick, “Not a chance. We’re eloping!”
At this Aragorn laughed, the tension and nervousness leaving his shoulders if only for a brief instant. “Over my dead body.”
Elladan and Elrohir rolled their eyes at the exchange but hid their wide grins by turning away from the two men.
Faramir snorted and nodded quickly to the two guards who stood poised to open the large double doors. There was no time like the present since it looked like Aragorn was not going to stop his pacing unless he was tied to some un-moveable object. And it would most definitely drive any thought of teasing from the King's mind regarding Faramir's own wedding.
The twins clasped their brother’s shoulder in a last attempt to relax him and noticed the exceedingly nervous man draw a visibly deep breath. “When you see her, your nervousness will fade. We will cease to exist and there will only be you – binding yourselves to one another.”
"You've waited a long time for this, Estel." Elrohir's voice was a small comfort. "This day belongs to you - and to my sister."
Elladan moved in front of Aragorn as the doors opened amidst the sound of royal trumpets announcing his arrival.
A memory flashed in Aragorn's mind as he watched the trumpets raised in his honor, sounding his arrival with their clear, poignant ring. The conversation with Boromir that night in Lorien soared to the forefront of his thoughts and a momentary pain flickered in Aragorn's heart for his fallen friend.
The people rose in waves on either side of him, drawing Aragorn's attention from the past. Many bowed or nodded in respect as he passed. They watched in silence as Elladan, followed by Aragorn, Faramir and then Elrohir walked slowly toward the dais.
Eowyn and Galadriel waited at the front of the Hall, resplendent in their silken gowns. As always, the elven queen lit the room with a beauty refined by a millennia of existence. Eowyn, unused to such exquisite finery - even Theoden did not have silks so beautiful, held herself with an royal countenance that fit the shield-maiden of Rohan well.
Once they reached the dais, Aragorn took a deep breath, smiled nervously at the women to his left, and turned to face his guests. His three witnesses moved to his right, immediately crossing their wrists behind their backs. Three silk-covered cushions rested behind the three men atop a table that ran lengthwise at an angle behind the King.
Aragorn's gaze passed over the dignitaries, the respected rulers of the kingdom’s allied with Gondor. Eomer smiled at his sister and nodded respectfully to the King from his seat near the front of the hall. Elven emissaries from across Middle-Earth were in attendance as well as those who had not yet formed such strong alliances with the Reunited Kingdom.
They’d all been invited to witness the King’s marriage; A gesture of trust amidst many insecurities formed by the end of the War of the Ring. Representatives from the Corsair’s as well as the Haradhrim watched in silence, searching for any sign of vulnerability in the recently crowned King.
They found none and nodded respectfully as his gaze fell over their party. A flicker out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned his eyes from the men.
Flutes began to play. Only Elven instruments could create such an emotional melody. The sound floated atop the very air, surrounding and penetrating the hearts of every single person in the room.
When Arwen appeared in the center of the aisle, her arm tucked into her father's, gasps echoed down the hall. There were no words, elven or common, with which to describe her beauty. Aragorn’s eyes widened and soon there was nothing but Arwen, walking slowly towards him. The surroundings were forgotten. His nervousness vanished. There was only the vision of her beauty that filled his mind.
When they neared the dias, they stopped – and waited. Aragorn walked slowly down the three steps– and fell to his knees before Elrond.
The crowd gasped – this was part of the wedding ceremony no one had expected. Even Elrond stared down at Aragorn with a quickly-masked look of surprise.
"A King does not kneel before another." Elrond said quickly.
"This King kneels before you in thanks and gratitude for the precious gift you are willing to place in my hands and in my protection, today," Aragorn said reverently a hint of nervousness in his voice.
The pride in Elrond's heart soared at such respect and he held out a steady hand to lift Aragorn to his feet. "I give you the Elves most precious star, Aragorn Elessar, my daughter, Arwen Undomiel." He released Arwen's arm and placed her hand in Aragorn's - his permission for their marriage granted.
Elrond stepped away and Aragorn's vision was filled solely with Arwen. They stood, hand in hand, for several moments, simply drinking in the sight of one another. Then Aragorn led her up the dais and stopped before the smiling form of Gandalf the White.
The guests took their seats as Elrond took his place beside Galadriel.
"We stand here today to bear witness to the marriage of Aragorn Elessar, King of the Reunited Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor and Arwen Undomiel, Evenstar of the Elves." Gandalf began, his booming voice carrying easily down the great hall.
"I have been asked to officiate this marriage with the minister of Gondor." Beside Gandalf stood another man, wizened with age, who smiled kindly at the couple. “This bonding ceremony will be a mingling of Elven and Gondorian tradition and as such may contain customs that are not familiar.” Gandalf exchanged a thoughtful smile with Aragorn and Arwen, “But rest assured, they are familiar to those who stand before you today.”
Gandalf’s words faded into the back of Aragorn’s mind as he stared into Arwen's lovely face. She had never seemed more beautiful. Resplendent in an emerald gown covered with so much lace and carefully hand-crafted embroidery, that he feared to even touch it. Her smile lit up the already beautiful and decadent room and her eyes were pools of liquid obsidian that he wanted to fall into and never return.
She couldn't take her eyes off him. Elegant silk and velvets, trimmed in gold filigree embroidery, adorned his well-built frame. He stood still and straight, every bit the High King of the West, and he was staring at her with a look that made her knees weak.
Arwen smiled, her lips pursing in a pout of impatience. The formalities of such a union would ensure they were standing before these people for a very long time. To pass the time, she would simply have to suffer with casting longing looks in the direction of her betrothed.
Gandalf could see the impatience in the stolen glances that the couple exchanged. He could see them becoming wary of the Minister's unnecessary pomp and interjected at a particularly uninteresting moment.
"Now, in a traditionally elvish fashion, mixed with a bit of Gondorian tradition, Aragorn will present his betrothed with three gifts." Gandalf motioned to Elladan to begin the more interesting portion of the ceremony.
Elrond and Galadriel exchanged a quick, bewildered look. There were to be two gifts exchanged; One of Gondor and one of the Elves, melding the two races. The Elves could only wait and wonder what the third gift to be presented to Arwen would be. If Elrond knew anything about his foster-son, he knew that the two gifts would pale in comparison to the third.
Elladan carefully lifted the silken cushion and walked gracefully toward the King. Taking Gandalf's place at the head of the hall, Elladan extended his hands toward Aragorn.
The King smiled and removed the gold circlet from its resting place. The thin crown had not been worn in generations and as Aragorn raised it over Arwen's head, the crowd watched in anticipation.
"With this crown, I give to you the kingdom of Gondor, to rule beside me as my Queen, for as long as we both shall live." Aragorn gently placed the tiara atop elegantly coifed hair and secured it with the attached pin. With a tremble of barely restrained desire, He trailed the back of his hands down her cheeks as he lowered them from her head.
He turned to Faramir, who replaced Elladan and extended his hands. Slowly, Aragorn removed the pendant from the cushion and fastened it around Arwen's neck.
"This belonged to my mother. Given to her by my father on her wedding day. It is my desire to give it to you as a symbol of my undying love and devotion." As he finished, his fingers trailed feather light paths down her neck until they reached the ornate, gem-encrusted pendant.
Elrond smiled knowingly. He should have remembered. He'd given that pendant to Aragorn on the day he'd revealed the boy's true heritage. It should never have been a question of to whom he would give such a precious gift.
Finally came Elrohir, bearing the third and final gift. Slowly, Aragorn removed the small filigree-etched band made of the purist mithril, turning it over in his finger before reaching for Arwen's hand. He lifted her fingers to his lips and pressed a kiss to each one before sliding the ring onto her finger.
"With this ring, I bind you irrevocably to me as my wife, my lover and my Queen." The passion and adoration in his eyes nearly broke her and she stifled a sob. When he paused, and then added, for her ears only, "I love you, Arwen. With all of my heart and soul," She lost the struggle, and single tear dripped from her eye.
But his words did not end there. Instead, he held her hands to his chest, his voice dipping to an intimate whisper. Only those in the first few rows of the hall could hear his voice. And many of those could not understand what he said; for he spoke to her now in the ancient language of the elves.
As he spoke, his eyes burned with a love and adoration previously unseen by many who witnessed the ceremony. Even Elrond and Galadriel, who had seen many a High Elf wed, were moved to near tears by the words of this mortal man.
“You are my life. My breath. My heart. Forever will I love you in this world and beyond.” One hand moved to cup her cheek and at the small movement, the guests could see the tears that fell unheeded down her cheeks.
Eomer noticed this and whispered to Imrahil, “Whatever he is saying, it’s bringing her to tears.”
“And it’s not so easy to make an elf cry.” Imrahil responded quietly, imagining the words of love being uttered from his King’s lips.
“I have so little to
give you compared to what you have utterly lost for me. I give you all that I
am, all that I ever will be in hopes that it will be enough.”
“It is,” Arwen whispered and pressed a kiss into the palm of his hand. “It is.”
Even Gandalf’s eyes were moist when they finished and Aragorn nodded to the Istari to continue the ceremony.
“Lady Arwen will present to her betrothed gifts in the same manner.”
Galadriel stepped forward and held out a soft silken cushion. Atop it rested a circlet of mithril. When Arwen reached to remove it, the Elven Queen covered her granddaughters trembling hand with her own. After a reassuring squeeze, Arwen lifted the circlet and turned to Aragorn – who immediately dropped to his knees.
The crowd once again gasped at such a gesture. A King would never kneel before another, even as an equal. Twice today he had placed himself subservient to his betrothed.
Arwen stood unmoving for several long seconds before reaching to brush away a stray strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes. When she settled the circlet atop his head, she said, “With this crown, I give to you my heart, to rule over its every beat. I have no kingdom to offer you. I have but my heart and my undying love.”
Small, soft fingers trailed down whiskered cheeks as her luminescent eyes implored him to stand. Taking his hands, she lifted him to his feet and then turned to take the filigreed band from the cushion that Eowyn offered.
Taking his hand, Arwen pressed a kiss to the elegantly carved mithril ring before sliding it onto his finger. “With this ring I bind you to me for the rest of your days. Just as its circle is never-ending so shall be our love.” She lifted his hand and pressed a lingering kiss to the band upon his finger.
“I love you with all of my heart and soul, Aragorn Elessar Telcontar, Elftone, Estel. It matters not to me what name you use as long as I may call you husband.” She lowered her head in a gesture to honor her King.
He slipped a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to his. “Always.” He whispered.
As Gandalf stepped forward to proclaim them married, their eyes flickered with such deep affection that it was difficult to look upon them.
“It is my great honor to proclaim Aragorn Elessar and Arwen Undomiel husband and wife. Honoring the customs and traditions of the Elven and Gondorian people.”
The couple glanced momentarily at Gandalf and the Minister, to smile and nod before turning their complete attention to one another.
Aragorn placed her hands against his chest, over his heart and she smiled at the strong beat she felt beneath the fabric of his tunic. His own hands curled around her cheeks and drew her lips to his for a gentle kiss. Slowly, like a burning ember, the flame of passion grew until his mouth enveloped hers so completely that the audience was left wondering how either of them could draw breath.
The crowd was on their feet before the royal couple parted. The thunderous applause drew them out of their embrace quicker then either would have liked. But Aragorn smiled against her lips and whispered promises of more to come before they reluctantly separated.
With an additional quick kiss, they bowed each to Gandalf and the Minister, before turning to face their guests.
TBC