Aragorn's and Arwen's wedding was both elegant and overtly extravagant. If Minas Tirith was crowded on Aragorn's coronation, it was flooded by people during their wedding. Varilerin reckoned almost all Elves attended, wishing to celebrate the marriage of the Evenstar of their people after thousands of years being unclaimed. The streets were decorated with flowers and banners of Gondor, songs played throughout the day, and at night a grand feast which lasted till sunrise the next day.
It was one of the many joyous occasions after the coronation. The first, of course, was Varilerin's and Legolas's announcement of their betrothal to the rest of the world. Apparently, Legolas had conversed with Glorfindel earlier that day to seek his blessings for her hand, and his return to Mirkwood was to seek blessing from Thranduil and craft Varilerin's necklace. Legolas told her that, despite his hostile nature towards her in the past, he had agreed to the betrothal almost immediately. When Thranduil met her after Legolas' proposal, he regarded her respectfully, and even praised her for her deeds in the Fellowship. She was relieved that her future father-in-law would at least treat her kindly.
Varilerin's betrothal to Legolas was blessed, but it caused the former to be showered with so many gifts and congratulations during Aragorn's wedding, when all her comrades and old friends also gathered. By the end of the day, she swore that she was more exhausted than the bride and the groom, and decided for the several days she would isolate herself in the Houses of Healing.
After the wedding, Faramir and Eowyn auspiciously announced their betrothal, having earned the blessings from both Gondor and Rohan. Faramir now resided in Ithilien, having declared its prince by Aragorn and tasked to restore the land lost to Sauron's previous allies. His new position solidified his claim for Eowyn's hand, though Eowyn told Varilerin that Eomer had not even considered Faramir's position when he asked for her hand. They wedded not long after, their ceremonies and celebrations held in both Rohan and Gondor. Thereafter, Eowyn moved to Ithilien, where she decided to become a healer. Her battle with the Witch King had disabled her arm from wielding the sword again, but she chose to follow's Varilerin's words—that there was glory in every effort which help people.
There were small moments and events of bliss which speckled their lives afterwards. Eomer showed subtle attractions to Prince Imrahil's daughter, Lohiriel, prompting Aragorn to once again act as a matchmaker for his friends—he was encouraged by his success with Legolas and Varilerin. The Hobbits returned to their hometown as heroes. Gimli and his people began their quest to drive out Orcs of Moria. Thranduil managed to extinguish all the spiders in Mirkwood, renaming it Erys Lasgalen, and awakened its trees once more. Ruindoldir was one of his greatest warriors, his skill efficiently eradicating the creatures while often Thranduil merely needed to watch. When Legolas and Varilerin visited Eryn Lasgalen, they were speechless at the sight of emerald leaves and flowers blooming everywhere they could see. "This, will be where your wedding is held, and where you live," Thranduil declared proudly to the couple. "Do not worry about the details, for I shall arrange the affair myself. You two have done enough for all of us by eliminating Sauron."
Thranduil tried his best to veil his excitement for his son's wedding, but Ruindoldir told the couple that he spent everyday arranging for the wedding and smiling to himself as he thought about how grand it would be.
Varilerin and Legolas' wedding would be held in two years time, allowing the two to settle matters on their own. Legolas embarked with Gimli to fulfil his promise to visit the Glittering Caves, as well as the restored Fangorn forest. Varilerin stayed with Aragorn for several months, accompanying him in several skirmishes to the land of Haradrims and Easterlings, hoping to find peace with them. Ruindoldir was with her as well, as he decided that his deed with the Elves was done, and it was time for him to repent the sins he had done to Men. Their quest, however, was met with much hostility, and so several battles were waged against the traitorous Men. With the aid of his allies and his own wisdom, Aragorn triumphed every single battle. It took not long for both tribes to surrender to Aragorn, and a strict treaty was signed among the leaders, promising peace or risk one last devastating blow from Gondor. But the battles had reduced their numbers significantly that Varilerin was convinced they would not be able to take arms for decades.
When all battles had been fought, Varilerin and Ruindoldir decided to travel back to Imladris, the place where they had grown. It was autumn, the leaves golden brown and reflecting the soft sunlight of the season. "It hasn't changed that much," remarked Ruindoldir as they slowly rode on the Elven road.
"Imladris might be one of the few places untouched by Sauron's influence," Varilerin said. "Partly because Elrond's refusal to involve himself with the outside world."
"That, has changed," Ruindoldir added with a smile. Varilerin nodded, listening to the serenity of the forest. The valley was quiet, its inhabitants readying themselves for winter while the trees shed their leaves abundantly to create a golden forest floor. In the past, rangers would lurk the canopies, watching visitors warily with their hands always holding their bows. But after the War, many of them retreated back to the Undying Lands, leaving Imladris largely empty except for servants who waited for Elrond's departer to the West. Elrond himself was staying in Lorien with Lady Galadriel.
When they arrived before the village gate, only a single guard greeted them. Ruindoldir looked up and swallowed the village in its entirety. "Look at that... The buildings still hold."
"And they still welcome strangers from distant lands," Varilerin told him, sensing how he terribly missed his old life.
"Yet, our people are leaving," Ruindoldir remarked as he unmounted his horse. "And eventually these buildings too will be forgotten, covered in leaves and vines, until the forests claim them."
Varilerin cocked her head, before she leapt of Elen. "Or someone might find a better use for them. Men, perhaps, whose villages have been destroyed in the war. They could look upon these buildings and decide them as their new homes."
Ruindoldir smiled, nodding in agreement. "Anyone that I knew who still lingers here?"
"That would be me," someone said. They turned around to see Lindir gliding down the set of stairs. Lindir blinked incredulously when he saw the two visitors. "I didn't recognise you two at first."
Lindir had been told about Ruindoldir, no doubt, for he was almost not surprised. "Welcome home."
"Why haven't you left?" Varilerin asked, as he led Ruindoldir and Varilerin to their rooms. Ruindoldir's eyes wandered around constantly, inspecting any difference in the nooks and crannies, chairs and furniture.
"Sense of attachment, mostly," Lindir answered. "As long as someone stays here, I will remain as well. That will be my duty until all my kin leaves."
"I admire your loyalty, Lindir," Ruindoldir said. Their visit was mostly out of no purpose. They simply wished to reacquaint themselves with their home, relive some memories, before they depart for their separate journeys. Varilerin introduced Ruindoldir to the changes which Elrond had made to the village—a couple of new buildings, hundreds of new books added to the library, or the revamped smithies where Anduril was reforged. Ruindoldir remembered the memories they had in the older places, the hallways, and the Halls of Fire. Sauron's influence over him had suppressed much of his memories, and so it took him some time to regain them back. It took them several days to properly explore all the new nuances, taking their time and chatting as much as they could. The fast-paced reformation of Middle Earth had spared them little time to fully befriend each other again. They laughed, ate, and watched the stars for days. For a moment, they felt young again, although Ellain's gaping absence always haunted their joy.
Varilerin ended her tour at the garden housing statues of heroes of Middle Earth. The Shards of Narsil were no longer there on the pedestal, replaced by an inscription of the quest the Fellowship had taken. She ended their tour here because of the statue glaring at Ruindoldir the moment they entered the garden.
Ruindoldir stepped closer to the statue depicting him and Ellain. "Lord Elrond made this after the incident," Varilerin explained reluctantly. "He wishes people to remember you two as heroes who saved his daughter."
Ruindoldir lifted his head and traced Ellain's statue. Elven craftsmanship had created what was an exact copy of Ellain, except for her marbled skin and eerie sheen, which at first glance was an artistic perfection until Ruindoldir came along. His eyes sang of grief, though he did not say it.
"I am glad, that we have been remembered," he whispered simply. "Now I remember clearly how she looks like, thanks to this. I think now I remember everything." His eyes lit up and he turned to Varilerin. "Which reminds me, we haven't visited that place."
"What place?" Varilerin asked, before she caught his hint. They left the village and began ploughing their way through the forest, which by this time had been overflown with shed leaves. They took several twists and turns, the sun always providing them the path, before they stopped in front of a silver tree. It wasn't like the White Tree of Gondor—this one was more than a thousand years old, with thick winding branches creeping to its barren leaves. In this clearing, the forest was the quietest, as if it knew to pay respect to its visitors and the soul which resided there.
"It still stays strong," Ruindoldir scoffed. "Even when evil corrupted the land, killed the trees, it withstood it all."
Varilerin touched the bark, smooth compared to the rough oaks or elms which overcrowded Imladris. This was where she, Ellain, and Ruindoldir always gathered, feasted, and played. In this clearing, the world was just the three of them, and everything was alright.
That had changed.
She looked at Ruindoldir, questioning his intention to visit this place. When he had asked her to travel to Rivendell with her, she had been wary. The shadows which trailed his steps had never left during the skirmishes to reclaim the lost lands, nor had it disappeared when they traversed through the mountains to Imladris. But these past few days, the shadows were all but a memory, which made her even worried.
"I feel at peace here," Ruindoldir declared, closing his eyes. He breathed in and smiled. Varilerin couldn't say anything. She knew why he had come to Rivendell, why he had asked to come to this place after days of stay instead of the first.
Ruindoldir opened his eyes and turned to Varilerin. "Why are you crying, my friend?"
She only realised she was doing so when he mentioned it. But she did not bother to brush the tears away. "Because I know this is where we part," Varilerin answered. "And I cannot change anything."
"You do not have to," Ruindoldir said as he stepped closer to her. "I have relived my life these past few months, finally finding peace from all those deeds I committed. I have finally remembered everything I have forgotten, and known you once again. But all stories must come to an end, whether by our choice or by fate. I was given a choice."
Varilerin knew this was inevitable. She had tried to prepare herself mentally for this, but like all deaths, she could not bear it. Ruindoldir used his fingers to wipe off some of the tears, but it only created more. "Do not grieve, Varilerin. You have done what you can, and I am grateful for it. These past few months have truly restored me back to who I am, and erased Vrasari from existence. For once, thank yourself for being a good friend to me."
"I still cannot bear it," Varilerin choked out. "I am scared, scared of seeing your soul fleet away. I dread the shadows which will claim you. I dread that you will be lost in the dark."
"I will not," Ruindoldir whispered to her, leaning closer. "I have Ellain guiding me. She will be my light. Your prayers will be my boat to the Undying Lands. There I will reunite with our old friends, and I will find only peace. You do not have to fear."
Ruindoldir smiled at her, the sincerest and brightest smile he had given to her. There was no regret, no grieve on his face. Sun basked him with ethereal light, tinging his skin with golden and silver.
You are happy to leave.
The air shifted. The birds flocked around the clearing, yet they did not fly. Jackals and deer stalked them both. "It is time," Ruindoldir said. Varilerin nodded, squeezing his hand one last time. But she did not wish to let them go, in the end. She trembled, still afraid of how death would claim him. "Close your eyes. If you are afraid to see, then brave yourself to feel."
Varilerin obeyed, forcing her eyes to close. The forest grew still. Not even an insect was heard. Her heart paced, wondering in all directions in search of a sign. Then suddenly the wind blew, but it was not a harsh gust. Rather, it caressed her like a flower, its flow bringing a song into the clearing. The birds sang, the grasses swayed. The entire forest was serenading.
She felt his hands squeezing her last time, before the wind blew him away like a flower.
And then she held her breath, because even if she did not open her eyes, she could see. Ruindoldir embraced her in the blinded darkness, his figure a mere shape of soft light. But his embrace was warm, and he whispered to her gently.
"Until we meet again, my friend. Thank you."
She waited for the birds to settle, for the forest to quieten again. When she opened her eyes, Ruindoldir was gone. The silver tree, almost barren from the season, was restored to its lush form, with soft emerald leaves sprouting from the branches. Varilerin gasped, and once again cried. But her tears were that of gratitude, of relief, for she felt it the last second before his passing. He felt every thought he had for her, for her friends, and for Ellain. With his passing, the grief which had piled up in her heart was lifted.
Because Ruindoldir was finally free, taken by the winds, back to where he belonged
oOo
He felt himself falling. The darkness consuming him was not terrifying, nor was it a blessing. He listened to his heartbeat, still strong, as it rose and fell in his non-existent physical form. It felt like such a long time, too long, and so he spent it with remembering Varilerin's face as he slipped away from her grasp.
She would be happy. She would live long and happy.
And then he felt his feet touching the ground. It was of soft grass and dewy soil. The air was crisp and humid. He smelled the warmth of sun baking the ground. "Finally," someone said in front of him. He slowly opened his eyes. He was in a vast grassland speckled with white and yellow flowers. He swallowed the view first, breathing the fresh air. Then he turned to the person who had spoken the words.
She was exactly as he remembered her.
"Hello, Ruindoldir."
oOo
The last time he had visited Mirkwood, it was a forest nothing short of misery and gloom. The trees had been wilting, the shadows lurked by spiders of the North. There had been no Elven road in sight, all covered by the corpses of animals and soldiers feasted by Sauron's armies. But now, everything he could see was lush green trees, many of which bore flowers of all colours and shapes. Sunlight softly lit up the forest, tinging the grasses gold and silver. Giant spiders lurking on the trees were replaced by treehouses where guards and rangers perched, their eyes watchful as the Gandalf and the other guests streamed into Thranduil's realm.
Gandalf hummed with appraisal. Beside him, the Hobbits, old Bilbo included, oohed and aahed at the marvellous sight. To them, Erys Lasgalen held a different kind of beauty than Imladris—where the latter offered protection and peace, Erys Lasgalen simply offered grandeur and exuberant beauty. Thranduil has exceeded himself in recovering his kingdom, Gandalf thought. Perhaps he was motivated by his son's marriage... Not out of his character, but certainly unexpected.
As they passed the gates to the kingdom, they were greeted with more awe. Like Lorien, the settlements and buildings of Erys Lasgalen were built around the tall trees which grew in the forest, though much more constructions were built on the forest ground, the tree houses made from golden wood rather than silver ones. Lights from jewels shone around the tree barks, which were decorated too with white flowers and green vines. "Thranduil is quite poetic, I should say," Gandalf said as he observed the decorations.
Bilbo's mouth was agape. "My look, at that," he whispered under his breath. "I have been to many forests before and truly I have never seen one like this."
Frodo smiled, his hand supporting Bilbo in addition to his walking stick. The old Hobbit had lost the ability to remember clearly, and thus his lack of knowledge that this was the same Mirkwood he had visited, but he still remembered most of his journey to Erebor. Pippin and Merry shuffled close by, wriggling every now and then due to the restrictions of their suits.
"It's going to be very strange to see Varilerin marrying," Pippin said. "Her wearing a dress and smiling all day long and the like."
"How can you be so sure that she won't just frown at her guests as she usually does?" Sam argued.
"Isn't that what the bride and the groom should do? Like the way you and Rosie kept grinning during your wedding?" Frodo argued back.
Merry looked around, glancing at the Elves who calmly escorted their guests to the hall. "I think Elves are too calm to be cheery all day long, my lads."
Pippin nudged Merry's hip. "Say, now that Varilerin, the lone wolf is married, should we join her too? Find a wife, I mean."
Merry furrowed his brows. "You think a lady will want to marry a person like you, Pip?"
Pippin responded by fully punching Merry's arm, earning him another slap in the back. "Stay quiet, will you? We are guests this time," scolded Sam. "At this rate Varilerin will surely scowl at you two for the rest of the banquet."
Gandalf and Frodo chuckled as Merry and Pippin ignored Sam and continued to quarrel. "We won't see her until the feast, hopefully, so you better end your quarrels by then."
The quarrel was about to break into a fight when Aragorn declared his presence. It had been quite some time since they had last seen Aragorn. Pippin and Merry immediately forgot their grievances and turned excitedly to greet him. "It's nice to see you all again, healthy and well," Aragorn began. He was not wearing his crown nor his armour, instead coming to this celebration as Varilerin's and Legolas' friend rather than a king. Instead, he donned a black tunic embroidered with silver threads, though his sword remained rested on his hips. "I thought that you couldn't made it. I have spent most of my day with Legolas and Gimli and I have grown quite tired of them bickering, I should say."
"You came alone?" Frodo asked.
"Arwen is with me," Aragorn said, gesturing to the crowd. "Faramir is here as well, along with Eowyn, though she and Arwen has left to help Varilerin make the final preparations. None has seen her, if you wish to know, not even Legolas himself."
"Such secrecy!" Bilbo remarked. "What has she in store for us?"
"Her wearing a dress," chirped Merry. "I am not joking when I say I am actually excited."
Aragorn laughed, missing the Hobbits' witty jokes. Faramir approached them as well. He was wearing a deep brown tunic with dark breeches. "This turns out to be quite the party," he remarked to them, noticing Eomer pushing his way through the guests to reach them. "And here I thought Varilerin had few friends, from what she told me. Perhaps we have been wrong all along."
"She didn't realise it but she made quite a handful of friends, and allies," Aragorn explained. "She never expected anyone to befriend her, but her kindness was in itself enough to lure people to follow her and respect her. Anyway.... Most of the guests are her own kin, so we shouldn't be surprised."
Eomer finally joined them, dressed casually as his friends, as if they had had an unspoken agreement. They were ushered by the Elves to the hall, where they encountered Celeborn and Elrond speaking with Thranduil and Glorfindel. The Elven King was dressed regally with his maroon cloak and silver robes, which contrasted the finely-sewn silver tunic adorning Glorfindel. Gandalf and the Hobbits greeted the Elven Lords, who stopped their conversations and welcomed them warmly.
"I hope you have found my people to be hospitable so far," Thranduil said. His voice was regal like his appearance, carrying with it a slight intimidation for the Hobbits.
"They have outworked themselves, I am afraid," Gandalf said. "May I know where is Lady Galadriel? I have not seen her."
"She is with Varilerin," Celeborn explained. He turned to the Hobbits, who he reckoned did not understand why so many women were helping her prepare. "You see, our tradition requires the mother of the bride to give her blessings to the new couple. Unfortunately, Varilerin is placed under special circumstances, and therefore Lady Galadriel kindly offers herself to do this honour."
"She has been watching Varilerin from afar since she was a child," Celeborn added. "It is not wrong to bless someone you care like your daughter, and so she saw it fitting."
Glorfindel folded his arms and sighed. "If I were a woman I would have blessed her, though," he muttered out loud.
"If you were a woman then I suppose the world had been forsaken," Thranduil said. "I would rather bleed my eyes out than see you prancing in front of me."
"I take that as a compliment, my friend," remarked Glorfindel. Beside him, Elrond shook his head, whispering something under his breath.
"You have outdone yourself, King Thranduil," Bilbo added after a while. "I have never thought you as a man of decorations."
Thranduil, much to their surprise, smiled genuinely. "I suppose it is fitting for my son to have the best wedding. My future daughter-in-law deserves it as well. Decades ago, she might have offended me, but in truth her offence towards me was necessary. She has changed and so have I. As long as she can offer Legolas happiness, I shall have no qualms in their union."
If Thranduil had struck the Hobbits as a strict, merciless king of the Woodland Realm before, that perspective was changed by his simple words.
There was a commotion coming from the crowds as Legolas arrived in the hall. It took him quite some time to swim across the sea of people, who congratulated him with many words and praises, before he appeared to Thranduil and his friends. He was wearing a silver robe akin to that of Thranduil, but instead of red, silver-green accentuated his outfit. A silver circlet crowned his head, and once again their friends were reminded that he was a prince and not a simple ranger.
"Ah, here comes the groom. Now what are you doing here instead of preparing yourself for the greatest moment in your life?" Gandalf teased.
Legolas straightened his robe and sighed. "Do not talk to me as if I haven't prepared for that moment for days, months even. But I am still plagued with worry, an undeserved worry, that is."
"Funny how my son acts like a cornered mice," Thranduil chided plainly. Legolas blinked, folding his arms.
"Did you not feel nervous when you wedded my mother?" Legolas asked.
Thranduil opened his mouth, but Glorfindel once again jumped in. "Oh, he was. He was terribly fearful, in fact. He would have trembled in front of everyone if it weren't for Aurinel distracting everyone from—"
Thranduil slapped Glorfindel's arm calmly. "I have told you many times, son, that you have received my blessings. You shouldn't worry no more."
"We can give you more," Aragorn added. "If that is what you wish. It will be fine, Legolas. It is only a wedding and you should be happy instead of frightened."
"Varilerin will be happy with you, I am sure of it," Frodo offered. "I have never seen her so happy around people, even Gandalf. She smiles brighter than the stars when she is next to you. You deserve her as she deserves you." The Hobbits nodded in unison, with Merry whispering 'wise words from a wise Hobbit' and Pippin agreeing.
Thranduil cleared his throat. "I believe your friends have made it clear, Legolas, that your worry is baseless. Are you ready with the ring? I hope you haven't lost it in your chaotic worries."
Legolas raised a brow, unnerved by his father's excessive sarcasm. He whisked out the said ring, which was simpler than what nobles often wore. It was silver, unadorned by any gem, made of gold with a band of silver running along its edges.
"Quite bland, don't you think?" Bilbo observed.
"We are not fond of rings, thus we do not need a fancy one," Legolas said as he hid the ring back. "She would perhaps not wear it anyway." It made sense. For Varilerin and Legolas, whose lives were defined by how well they fought, jewellery was more of an obstacle rather than help, particularly if worn on their hands. The necklace was an exception, though, for they could safely hid it beneath their garments.
"Speaking of jewelleries, I should be handing one to Varilerin," Glorfindel said suddenly. "Where is Varilerin, may I ask?"
The rest of them stared at him in suspicions. "Ask one of the guards and he will lead you to her," Legolas answered. "And please knock on the door before you enter."
"You sound like your father," Glorfindel remarked lastly before he thanked the ellon and rushed away. As instructed, the guards directed him to Varilerin's room, in front of which Eowyn stood defensively.
"May I know what is your purpose here, my lord?" Eowyn politely asked, though Glorfindel sensed irritation hidden in her voice.
"I am Glorfindel, Varilerin's guardian," he began. "I am here to give her something she should receive before the ceremony."
"Let him in, Eowyn," Varilerin said from inside the room. "If he is being truthful and not a trickster, that is."
Eowyn glanced at Glorfindel one last time before she opened the door.
It took Glorfindel a few seconds that despite her fondness of dressing in pants and travelling in dirt and dust, Varilerin was still one of the most graceful elleths he had never known. Standing beside Lady Galadriel was a woman dressed in long, trailing dress a silver sheen. The dress was simple as befitting her image, but Glorfindel noticed fine embroideries of flowers and feathers on the fabric. The dress was reserved, showing little of her neck except for Legolas' necklace and with long sleeves which fell to the ground—he couldn't imagine her wearing anything more revealing than this. Her dark hair cascaded down her dress, braided simply and sprinkled with small flowers. It was like the night draping the stars.
Varilerin eyed Glorfindel and frowned. "Master, may I know why you are here?" she asked, unfazed by the fact that he was staring. It took Glorfindel several moments to finally remember and he fumbled with his robes.
"I intend to give you something," he stammered, taking out a small bundle of cloth. "A wedding gift, for you. I cannot think of anything else to give."
Varilerin glanced at him as she unfolded the gift. It was a silver circlet, shaped into a wreath of feathers flowing to the gem at the centre. She stared at it for a long time, before lifting her head with wide eyes.
"I do not deserve this. This is only worn by Lords and Ladies, nobles and royalties. You know well I am not one of them."
Glorfindel shrugged. "Don't you remember that I see you as my own daughter? You might as well be a Lady of the House of the Golden Flower, of Gondolin. And you are marrying a prince, mind you. At least you should look the part."
"I have never looked the part," Varilerin interrupted.
"Then perhaps it is time to do so," advised Lady Galadriel. "Take it, child. See it as a favour for Lord Glorfindel."
Varilerin hesitated, looking at the circlet. A circlet was a symbol of power, of authority, something which she often feared. In the end, she nodded, not because she was brave enough, but because she found Glorfindel's sincerity too true to be ignored. Glorfindel carefully placed the circlet upon her head, and he stepped back. He smiled like a fool at how pretty it looked on her hair.
"Legolas is going to lose his breath when he sees you," Eowyn teased from the doorway.
Varilerin blushed and whispered a small 'thank you'. "Alright, Lord Glorfindel. I think it is time for you to re-join the guests. You may admire her more once the feast started."
"Thank you," Glorfindel said dumbly before he bowed to the women. "Don't be late, my dear. The last time I saw him, Legolas was quite nervous."
Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. He quirked another grin before prancing to the hall, satisfied. His friends would question him when he returned, grinning like a madman, but he ignored them.
And then the time arrived.
oOo
The night smothered the last bits of sun just as the guests seated themselves in the great hall. Large rectangular tables were lined along the hall, brimming with wine and food generously stocked by Thranduil's cellars and kitchens. The guests managed to fill up every single seat, leaving only vacant spaces for Legolas and Varilerin, as well as the presiding Elves. On one end of the hall was a large tree illuminated by white gems, where the ceremony would take place. Legolas sat beside Thranduil, quiet as they waited for Varilerin, while the guests chattered to their hearts content.
"Calm down, son," Thranduil suggested with a smirk. Arwen and Eowyn slowly entered the room, smiling at Legolas, signifying Varilerin's arrival. "There she is."
Legolas and Thranduil promptly stood up. Legolas held his breath as Varilerin finally entered the room, in her silver wedding dress, lighting up the room with her unspeakable radiance. The crowd went mute, even the Dwarfs not finding words to utter. Varilerin gracefully walked across the hall with Galadriel guiding her hand. She lifted her eyes to look at Legolas, who for the first time felt embarrassed when he looked at her.
When she was before him, Legolas extended his hand. She took it, him feeling the calluses and scratches on her palm, hidden by the extravagant sleeves covering her arms. Confidence returned to Legolas once more, for he was reminded that despite the gleaming dress she was wearing, she was still the humble ranger whom he had fallen in love with. That beneath her apparent beauty, exuded to many of the Elves who had not known her, lay foundations of hard work and perseverance.
Varilerin too, breathed heavily, reminded that these were the hands which had held her when she needed warmth and protection above all. He smiled and so did she, squeezing his hand as they faced the tree.
Gandalf presided the ceremony, on the account that he was perhaps the oldest being Varilerin had known. Thranduil and Galadriel stood next to them, ready to give their blessings. The hall was encapsulated in awed silence, especially the Hobbits, who had never seen Elven marriage before.
"Here you both stand before the Valar and all of us to unite in the bond of eternal love," the Wizard began. "And for such bond to remain firm forever you shall receive your blessings."
Legolas offered his hand to his father, who took it and nodded at his son. "I, as your father, have seen you grow from an innocent child to a strong man, a man who is face the darkness of grief and loss and emerge victorious. Therefore, I see you fit to live and protect this elleth, to lead your lives and protect out realm in the future. Now I, with our Father Manwe and all these people as witnesses, bless your marriage so that you may live a loving life together."
The audience murmured as Thranduil spoke not in the Common Tongue, but in the language of his people. His voice was deep, noble, certainly unexpected for those who had regarded him as an intimidating king. Several of the Elves translated for the guests, but even without their help they understood what Thranduil had said.
Galadriel then took Varilerin's hand, eyeing her softly. "I have watched you journey with many shadows and fight against many enemies. I might not have been your mother or your guardian, but I know how courageous you are in life, how selfless you are. Those toils have born their fruit. I, with Mother Varda and all these people as witnesses, bless your marriage so that you may live a blissful life together."
"We, with Eru Iluvatar as our witness, bless your marriage," Thranduil and Galadriel said in unison.
Gandalf nodded. "With the blessings spoken, the rings shall now be exchanged," he announced.
Legolas took out his ring and Varilerin took hers out. Hers was as plain as one could imagine—gold, with leaves carved on the surface. Legolas fitted the ring to Varilerin's right finger. "With this, I hope that you remember, that you deserve everything. You deserve my love, happiness, and peace. I see in you a strong and passionate elleth, one who always reminds me that the world is still beautiful however flawed it is."
Varilerin listened to his words carefully, cherishing them, storing them among the pleasant memories she had had. Small tears formed on her eyes. She had never cried in front of the masses before, but for once she would make an exception.
"You have been my light in the dark," she whispered. "The beat to my song. Warmth of my world, when everything else is cold and harsh and cruel." She carefully slid the ring to his finger, and smiled at him girlishly. "Thank you for being there when I thought I was alone."
Legolas lifted his hands to touch her cheek. "I will always be there for you, forever," he whispered as Gandalf announced the officiation of their marriage to the audience. As Gandalf finished, Legolas swiftly pulled her close and kissed her fully. Varilerin immediately returned the kiss and wrapped her arms behind his neck. She had not realised it, but she had longed to fully feel his touch, let his warmth encapsulate her. Not a single speck of embarrassment was felt. In that moment, the world was just the two of them.
Varilerin pulled herself away with a smile still plastered on her face. Her face was red when she realised that the Hobbits were whistling at them. Legolas laughed at the sight and gave her one small kiss on the forehead. Intertwining their fingers, they turned to properly face the hysteric crowd, not as friends no longer, but as husband and wife. Legolas led her down to greet their friends, who showered them with congratulations and jokes for their marriage.
As they neared the gates of the hall, Varilerin's attention veered from her friends to the open door.
Two figures stood there, seemingly smiling.
She blinked, and they were gone.
"Varilerin?" Legolas asked. "What did you see?"
Varilerin smiled discreetly. "It is nothing," she said. Legolas did not prod further, for after a long time with her, he understood what she had meant.
oOo
Being the subject of a feast felt different than simply being its guest, because all conversations were directed to her and Legolas and as benevolent newlyweds, they were obliged to participate in them all. Typically, Varilerin would not be able to endure ten minutes under such social demands, but with Legolas by her side, she found the conversations more meaningful and enjoyable. Moreover, the guests were her friends, old and new, which was a stark difference to the strangers she met in usual parties. Food was scrumptious and appetizing enough that Varilerin indulged herself in simply too much of them—although not excessively enough to cause her to faint in the middle of the feast, as displayed by Merry and several of the Dwarves. The wine was particularly delicious, she noted, for they were prepared directly from Thranduil's renowned cellars.
Every now and then, Varilerin would glance at Legolas, and marvelled at how attractive and handsome he was. She observed his nose, his startlingly blue eyes, his strong jaw. Then he would notice her staring and she tried to pretend to do something else.
At some point in the feast, Merry and Pippin were drunk enough to offer them a dance performance, which ended up in them crashing one of the tables and the servants dragging them to their chambers. By this time, most of the guests had either grown exhausted from the party, or simply too full from the feast to be able to strike intelligent conversations. Aragorn and his company retired earlier, for they would embark first thing in the morning to return to Gondor.
At last, Varilerin and Legolas was left with an empty hall. Only Thranduil—who was uncharacteristically restrained in his drinking—Galadriel and Elrond were still conversing. Glorfindel himself had fallen victim to the spirits and Celeborn led him back to his room. "I suggest you two retire," Thranduil told the two. "I will ensure that none of the guests bother you unless you wish to be bothered."
Thranduil gave Legolas a stern yet sly glance. "And we shall leave as well," Thranduil added. "Leave you two to your own devices."
Legolas pursed his lips, understanding his father's implication. "Can we take a walk, for a moment?" Varilerin suddenly said. "Morning is coming soon and I would like to see the stars one last time before the sun claim them. Just for tonight."
She appeared tired but still spirited. "Farewell," Legolas said, without asking anymore questions. He had learnt, for the past few months of their betrothal, that Varilerin did things people could not understand at times. She saw often saw and felt what others couldn't, as if unseen forces were whispering her instructions. He had learnt to follow them, and found that most of her undescribed actions were with hidden purpose.
They walked, quietly, though they still spoke to one another. The kingdom was peacefully silent and most of its inhabitants asleep, which provided them the much-needed privacy after long hours of feasting. Legolas led her to one of the tallest watchtowers, where guards stood to view the forests beyond the borders of the kingdom. There, they could view the stars clearly, sprinkling the sky which would soon transform from darkness to light.
Varilerin and Legolas stood silently, watching the sky slowly change. She glanced at him and couldn't help but wonder how she had come this far. Her early life was stained with murders and deaths, of people constantly trying to protect her at the cost of their life. The fear of losing someone had controlled her for hundreds of years. She had tried to protect people only to see them die, to blame her incompetent self. She feared attachment and friendship because darkness would always claim her. That darkness had blinded her from all the good things which had happened to her and those around her. She only realised this when the Fellowship entered her life, when she found purpose once more to protect Aragorn and destroy Sauron, when Legolas was there. Even if her fears would not leave her, at the very least she had someone by her side.
She squeezed Legolas' hand. He looked at her gently. "Legolas.... We have walked on a difficult path, haven't we?"
Legolas pulled her close, his hand brushing her back. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "We have indeed. You have."
Varilerin nodded, suddenly feeling tired. She held her gaze on one of the stars, the brightest of them all. It was then that she saw something else, heard something other than her and Legolas' subtle breaths.
The sky was replaced by walls decorated with old paintings. An unknown grand hall stretched as far as her eye could take her, a soft light suffusing from above. She heard laughter coming from behind her and she turned around. A small elleth slipped past her. She had ebony hair and pure blue eyes. She ran to an ellon with hair the colour of sunlight, its braids reminding her of none other someone. The elleth shouted something at the ellon, of a name so close yet distant. The ellon lifted her and shared her laughter—his laughter was of Legolas'.
Another shadow drifted past her. She saw herself gliding, a young ellon slightly older than the small elleth holding her hand. His hair was gold and his eyes a stark silver. The ellon too, tackled Legolas, demanding an embrace. Legolas opened his arms to Varilerin, who took his hand and kissed him gently.
They walked away, towards the light, hugged by warmth and closeness Varilerin had never seen. And then she saw herself looking over her shoulder. Those silver eyes still bore the scars of the past, but they were still happy.
"Varilerin?" Legolas asked. "What did you see?"
Varilerin smiled. "A pleasant sight," she answered.
She wrapped her arms around him, watching the darkness dip beyond the horizon and the sun creeping to the sky.
She did not know what was waiting for her in the future, if she could see them still. But she did not care. To live was to cherish the present and not worry about the future.
And to cherish the present was to believe for the better days to come.
A/N: I kind of cried internally when writing Ruindoldir's passing. I hope you did too.
One last chapter before the end of Varilerin's journey.