 |
||||
|
|
||||
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| It is a great pity my grandmother could not be here to see this: I owe her so much. But no matter: she will hear of my wedding before much time has passed. So many friends and loved ones here: Legolas stands between my twin brothers, beaming; my father watches from the front with a calm smile; Faramir and Eowyn clasp hands and whisper; the four hobbits stand as tall as they can. And at the end, oh my heart, at the end... One small stretch of aisle: then I will have all I ever wanted. How long have I yearned for this moment? How long have I waited for it to come? Many ages of tears and toil... Closer, closer... one measured step at a time... within the hour, I shall be... I reach the halflings, guests of honor seated at the front. My gaze falls on Frodo in particular. He cannot stand well without the aid of his manservant Sam, yet upright he remains. His bandaged hand clutches the back of his chair. I smile at him, at all of them, gratefully: the part they have placed, they have all ensured for me... Gandalf stands beside my father, his face serene and his eyes alight. I stop before them, and embrace the wizard. "Undomiel," he murmurs proudly. If he could but imagine what happiness is to be mine... I take his chin in my hand and kiss him upon either cheek. Lastly, finally, I turn to my father. He gathers me up in his arms. "Your mother would be so pleased," he declares quietly. And then, there before me, the moment racing closer... Aragorn has never looked so beautiful. The crown and stars of Numenor flash on his breast: he has grown to fill his destiny, as I have mine. I take his hand and gaze into his face. "Mellon," he whispers breathlessly. My lips part into a smile. He gestures for the Bearer without looking away. Reverently, he picks the simple gold band from the pillow and holds it just above my waiting finger. I begin to tremble with anticipation. My eyes fall to our hands. "Melleth..." I whisper back. The work of a moment; it curls about my finger, gleaming. The work of a moment, on the banks of the Bruinen, to trade the One with a false Ring of my own. I was not idle in Lorien: an Elf-witch has much to teach her granddaughter. What a pity she cannot see me now, to know the full extent of what I have accomplished. Aragorn's voice interrupts my silent victory. "Arwen?" he repeats. "What is it?" Of its own accord, my hand has risen to eye-level: I stand pouring over the Ring, wide-eyed. The hall seems to have gone silent. I smile, and caress his cheek. "It is the darkness that lets the Evenstar shine." He furrows his brow, puzzled. I laugh softly. "You will see," I tell him, bringing our lips closer for a kiss. "I will show you.
|